The sun was shining brighter than usual for a February 14th, the kind of day where love felt forced, like the world was making a point. I was just walking down the street, a bouquet of flowers in hand for my mom. I wasn't some heartless guy—she liked them, and I wasn’t about to skip out on making her smile.

Couples passed by, all hand-holding and smiles, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Valentine’s Day, every year, the same thing. It just wasn’t my scene.

I was almost past a bench when I saw her—a girl sitting there, buried in her phone. She didn’t stand out, and I didn’t care much about her. But then, something weird happened. A whoosh filled the air, and a sharp pain hit my chest. I gasped, nearly dropping the flowers as I stumbled back.

And then I saw her.

She had wings. Big, white, glowing wings. I rubbed my eyes, blinked hard—was I imagining things? No. She was standing right there, wearing a shimmering white dress and looking absolutely unreal. She had this otherworldly beauty to her, and everything about her glowed like she wasn’t even real.

I couldn’t look away. My heart pounded as if it were trying to escape my chest. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but it didn’t matter. I had to talk to her. I needed to.

She noticed me staring and froze. Panic flashed across her face. “No, no, no,” she muttered under her breath, stepping back as if she’d just done something horrible.

“Wait, what’s going on?” I asked, my mind spinning.

“You—oh god, you’re not supposed to be falling in love with me,” she said, eyes wide with panic. “You’re supposed to fall in love with her,” she gestured toward the girl on the bench, who was still on her phone, oblivious to all this.

I blinked. “Who? What?”

The angel—because, yeah, that’s what she was—was clearly freaking out. She shook her head, muttering to herself, looking back at the girl on the bench like she was trying to fix some screw-up. “No, you’re not supposed to be... this isn’t supposed to happen..”

I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all.