Unfinished love story
Unfinished Love Story It began on an ordinary afternoon, the kind that never hints at becoming a memory. She was sitting in a quiet café, It began on an ordinary afternoon, the kind that never hints at becoming a memory. She was sitting in a quiet café, lost in her notebook, and he walked in like a moment out of place. Their eyes met the way small miracles happen—without announcement, without plan. They started talking, first about coffee, then about everything else that mattered and didn’t. There was laughter, long silences that felt safe, and the strange comfort of being understood without trying. He told her about his love for rain; she confessed her fear of goodbyes. They promised not to complicate things. Of course, they did. Love crept in quietly. It lived in the late-night texts, in songs they shared, in the way he looked at her when she wasn’t watching. But life, as always, had other plans. He had to leave—another city, another job, another dream pulling him away. They sai...

Comments