You’d sat at that restaurant so many times, the waiters already knew your order before you spoke. But today, someone new caught your eye—a young man at the table to your left. His smile was unassuming but sweet, the kind that lingered for a moment too long. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, looking smart, handsome, almost like the echo of your college sweetheart you never quite forgot.

Over the next few weeks, he kept showing up—same time, same place, often glancing in your direction when he thought you weren’t looking. Slowly, he became just as much a part of the restaurant’s routine as the clinking of cutlery and hum of conversation. You couldn’t deny the curiosity building inside you each time you caught that half-smile of his.

Finally, today, you stood up before your nerves could change your mind. Walking over to his table, you leaned just enough to catch his attention and said softly, “I see you here as much as I see myself—maybe we should stop pretending we’re strangers?”

His smile widened, warm and inviting, as if he’d been waiting for you to say it all along.