Chapter 1 Her

Chapter 1

Her

People think love begins with something obvious,a glance that lingers too long, a moment that feels different.

Ours didn’t.

It began in silence. In passing. In the kind of ordinary moments you never think twice about, until they become the ones you cannot forget.If I had known how it would end, I would have still met him.

Just maybe not stayed as long.

The first time I notice him, he is not doing anything remarkable.

Just sitting there, a little away from everyone else, like there is an invisible line around him no one crosses.

He does not look lonely.

Just… unavailable.

And somehow, that makes me notice him again.

The café is quiet today. It usually is.

I like that. It gives me space to think, or sometimes, to not think at all. The window seat is where I go without deciding. It feels familiar now, like something I can rely on.

I sit down, place my bag beside me, and let out a slow breath I did not realize I was holding.

My eyes drift across the room without much interest. And then, without trying, they land on him.

Same corner. Same stillness.

It is strange how easy it is to recognize someone you have never spoken to.

I look away first. Not because I have to. Just because it feels like I should.

I tell myself it means nothing. People notice people all the time. It does not mean anything.

Still, the next time I glance up, he is there again. Not moving much. Not looking around.

Just existing in his own space, like the rest of the room does not quite reach him.

There is something about that which feels… steady.

The next day, I come in a little late.

My usual seat is taken.

I hesitate for a second, scanning the room, and then I notice the empty chair in the corner.

His seat.

I do not think too much before walking over and sitting down.

It is just a chair.

A few minutes pass before I feel it.That slight awareness you get when someone is standing nearby.I look up.He is there.Not close. Just enough to make it clear.For a second, neither of us says anything.I realize then.This is his place.I should probably say something.

Apologize. Move. But I don’t.

And he doesn’t ask.

He just looks at the chair, then at me.Our eyes meet for a brief second.There is nothing sharp in his expression No annoyance. No impatience. Just distance.

Then he turns away and walks to another table. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding. That was… nothing.It should feel like nothing.But it doesn’t.The next day, I sit back near the window. And when I look toward the corner, he is there again.Like always.I do not understand why that feels right.

But it does.

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