Romance

Lena had always believed that some people were meant to meet

by accident. On a rainy afternoon in Lisbon, she stepped

into a small bookstore to escape the storm.

The bell above the door rang softly, and that’s when she saw

him—standing between two tall shelves, holding a book like

it was something fragile. He looked up at the same moment.

"Bad weather?"

he asked with a slight smile.

"Or perfect timing,"

Lena replied without thinking. His name was Mateo, and

he was only in the city for a week. Yet every day after

that, he found reasons to return to the same bookstore.

They talked about books, dreams, and places they wanted

to see but hadn’t yet. The rain eventually

stopped, as it always does. Mateo’s last day came too

quickly. At the train station, Lena didn’t ask him to stay.

She just handed him a small note. Inside it was one line:

"Some stories don’t end where they begin."

Months later, a postcard arrived in her mailbox.

It had no return address, only a simple message:

"I’m still reading our story. Chapter two starts soon."