Reading with the same bench two days in a row—
it started to feel like it belonged to you.
Tuesday afternoon arrived with clear skies and a gentle breeze that stirred the leaves above the old oak tree.
When lunch ended, Noah found himself walking toward the familiar bench almost without thinking.
He smiled when he saw that it was empty.
A moment later, Lily appeared from the library with her book tucked under one arm.
“I had a feeling you’d be here.”
“So did I.”
They sat down, opened their books, and let the quiet settle around them.
For several peaceful minutes, neither spoke.
Then Noah reached for his bookmark.
Something unexpected slipped from between the pages.
A tiny handwritten note drifted onto the bench.
He picked it up with a puzzled expression.
In neat handwriting,
