THE PULL OF FATE

Some moments in life feel like echoes of something greater, as if they are preordained, rippling through time before we even realize their significance.

Meeting Ethan was one of those moments. I should have walked away. I should have dismissed the encounter as nothing more than an accident, an awkward collision on a busy street.

But something about him lingered in my mind long after I left the café that night.

Days passed, yet my thoughts continued to drift back to the way he had looked at me like he was reading between the lines of an unwritten story.

It was unsettling and electrifying all at once. I told myself it was just curiosity, nothing more.

After all, I barely knew him. And yet, I found myself wandering past the same coffee shop at the same time each evening, as if the universe might align once more and place him in my path.

Then, one evening, it did.

I had just ordered my usual black coffee, no sugar, when I felt a presence beside me. The scent of warm spice and cedar drifted into my space, sending a shiver down my spine.

I turned my head, and there he was, standing casually with his hands in his pockets, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

"Did you ever get around to replacing that coffee?" he asked, his voice smooth with amusement.

I exhaled a laugh, shaking my head. "No, I suppose I owe you one."

He leaned against the counter, tilting his head slightly. "Then let's call this a fresh start."

And just like that, I knew-whether by fate or by sheer coincidence.

Ethan Carter was about to become a part of my story.