The LOVE WE NEVER PLANNED

Amara was already late. She hurried through the café door, clutching her notebook against her chest while trying not to think about the interview she had just missed. It had been raining all morning, and the streets were crowded. Her shoes were damp, her hair was messy, and her phone battery was almost dead. Perfect. She spotted an empty table near the window and immediately walked toward it. “Excuse me.” The voice stopped her. A young man was sitting there, looking at her with mild confusion. “That’s my table.” Amara looked at the number. Then at him. Then back at the number. “Oh.” She had chosen the wrong table. “I’m sorry.” She turned quickly. “Wait.” She looked back. “You can sit here.” “I thought it was yours.” “It is.” “Then why—” “Because you look like you need somewhere to sit.” Amara hesitated. “I’m fine.” He smiled slightly. “Of course you are.” She didn't like his tone. But before she could respond, her stomach growled loudly. His smile widened. Amara closed her eyes. This was officially the worst morning of her life.