“Then I guess I’ll be here too.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving a soft warmth swirling in her chest, like the last sunbeam that lingers even after sunset.
Lily exhaled, touching the edge of her sketchbook. Something in her quiet routine had shifted — not loudly, but undeniably.
She wondered if tomorrow would feel different.
She didn’t know yet that it would — in all the best ways.
Chapter 3:
Shared Silences
The next day felt unusually long for Lily.
Work dragged on in that sluggish, heavy way it sometimes did when her mind was half somewhere else. She caught herself glancing at the clock more often than usual, tapping her pencil absentmindedly, doodling tiny clouds in the margins of her notes. Every so often, she wondered if Evan would actually come.
Maybe yesterday had just been a coincidence.
Maybe he had only been passing by.
Maybe she was reading too much into a simple conversation.
But the thought that he might be there made her entire day feel brighter, like her mind had set aside a small, secret hope.
When the workday finally ended, she walked the familiar riverside path with a heartbeat just slightly faster than normal. The breeze was cooler today, carrying hints of pine and distant chimney smoke. Leaves rustled in gentle waves as she approached the curve where the bench sat hidden behind tall reeds.
And then she saw him.
Evan was already there.
He sat in the same spot as yesterday, camera resting on his knee, scanning the river as though the water might reveal some storyonly he could see. His hair ruffled in the wind, and when he glanced up, his face brightened with unmistakable recognition.
“You came,” he said, standing as if greeting an old friend.
Lily felt a flutter in her stomach.“So did you.”
“Well,” he shrugged lightly,“I said I would.”
She smiled — a small one, but it felt bigger inside her chest. She took her seat on the bench, and this time, Evan didn’t hesitate before sitting down beside her, leaving far less space than yesterday.
It wasn’t too close.
It was… intentionally comfortable.
For a few minutes, neither spoke. Lily opened her sketchbook, her pencil gliding in soft strokes as she tried capturing the shape of a drifting leaf. Evan lifted his camera, adjusting the settings and snapping a few quiet shots of the river.
The silence between them felt different today — fuller, warmer, like it had grown a personality of its own.
Evan broke it first.
“What are you drawing today?”
Lily hesitated, then angled her sketchbook slightly so he could peek.“Just the river.”
He leaned in just enough to see — not too much, not too little — and nodded with a thoughtful smile.
“You draw like the river moves. Gentle, but with intention.”
