Some days, she timed her visits deliberately.
She'd begun to notice a pattern—around midday, he might be in the garden. So she shifted her rhythm, ever so slightly, to catch a chance. It wasn't guaranteed. But the possibility of seeing him made her do things she normally wouldn't. She came deliberately. Softly. Hoping her footsteps might align with his.
That day, they nearly collided.
As she arrived, he was leaving. Their timelines brushed—just barely. A passing moment. A glance. But she saw him. And somehow, that was everything.
She stayed in the car a little longer, pretending to debate whether she should take her coat. Too warm, too cold, didn't match—but really, she just couldn't bear the thought of walking past him. Not with her heart beating like that.
Through the window, she watched him move. From the front of her car to his, parked directly ahead—right by the entrance. She watched the way he walked, the quiet in his shoulders, the calm he carried. Memorized it.
She waited for him to sit inside, to finally give her the space to step out unnoticed.
But then—something strange.
His car didn't drive off. Not like it usually did. Most days, the moment he sat down, the driver would pull away. But this time, the car stayed. A passerby walked by and glanced into the window. And for a second, she wondered—what did he see?
She waited. Hoping for movement. For him to go. But nothing happened. Her own driver waited silently, her door still closed, her breath held tight. She couldn't stay there forever. Still, she hesitated.
And then—finally—she gave in. Slipped out of the car, quickly, quietly. Stood there for a moment, exposed as she reached for her bag.
She was right behind his car now. If he wanted to, he could've seen her in the rearview mirror. And that's when it happened. Just as she stood there—finally out in the open—his car pulled away.
As if he'd been waiting. As if he needed to be sure it was her.
A foolish thought, definitely.
But it made her smile.
After all, even wishful thinking had its own kind of magic.