The rain was relentless, drumming on the tin roof of the café and pooling in the cracks of the sidewalk outside. You sat by the window, stirring your untouched tea, your fingers shaking slightly. Your phone sat face down on the table, its screen black, its weight immeasurable.

You had texted Jay, your ex, an hour ago."Can we talk? Please come through." The message remained unread.

You felt like one of them—falling, aimless, unsure where you would land. Jay had been your anchor, your steadying force, until you'd pushed too hard, asked for too much. Or maybe you hadn’t asked enough. You werent sure anymore.

The door jingled as someone walked in, shaking off the rain like a dog coming out of water. You looked up, your heart leaping for a moment, only to fall when you saw a stranger in a navy coat and scarf. You looked away, embarrassed by her hope. Minutes passed. The café began to fill with the muted hum of conversation and the comforting clatter of dishes. Still, your phone remained silent. A soft voice broke your spiral of thoughts. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” You blinked, looking up to find the stranger in the navy coat standing before you. His scarf was loosely draped over his shoulders now, and his hair was damp, curling slightly at the edges.

“Uh, no,” you said slowly. “Thanks,” he said, sliding into the chair across from you. You stared at him, unsure why he had chosen to sit there when other tables were empty. He didn’t pull out his phone or open a laptop like most people did. Instead, he just sat, his hands resting on the table, as if waiting for something.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked after a beat. You hesitated, then nodded. “I think so.” “You think?” Your lips twitched into a sad smile. “I’m not sure if they’ll show up.”

The man nodded, as if he understood. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Waiting.”

You didn’t reply, but something in his tone made her chest ache. “I’m Heeseung, by the way,” he said, offering his hand.