Meant To Miss, Destined To Meet

Chapter 9

Jack’s POV

It’s been two days.

Two whole days since I sent that second message. Two days of checking my phone every hour like I’m expecting a miracle to light up the screen.

Nothing.

No reply. No dot-dot-dot. Not even a message read receipt.

I stared at her name on the screen like it had changed languages. Like it might mean something different now. Like maybe it wasn’t “Gina” anymore—maybe it was just goodbye.

I know she doesn’t owe me anything. That’s the part I keep repeating to myself.

She doesn’t owe me her time.

Her trust.

Her attention.

She barely knows me.

Still, I thought I felt something—connection, recognition… possibility.

Apparently, I was wrong.

I tossed my phone on the couch and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV just for background noise. I wasn’t watching. I couldn’t even tell you what channel it was.

I just needed to drown out the silence.

By midday, I was pacing the office again. Even Quan had stopped teasing me and simply offered me a Red Bull and a quiet “Still nothing?”

“Nope,” I said.

“She’s probably just busy.”

“Yeah.”

Or maybe she read the message and decided not to answer. Maybe I moved too fast. Maybe she didn’t feel what I felt. Or maybe…

“She’s not ready,” I said aloud, more to myself than to Quan.

Quan gave me a look. “Would it be weird to say that’s probably the most self-aware sentence you’ve ever spoken?”

I chuckled, bitter and short. “It still sucks, though.”

By late afternoon, I was back at the café.

My spot. Her spot. Our non-existent spot.

Ben raised an eyebrow the second he saw me walk in.

“No sign of her,” he said before I could even ask.

“I figured,” I muttered.

He handed me a cup of my usual and added quietly, “Don’t lose hope just yet.”

“I’m not,” I lied.

I sat by the window and opened my laptop, pretending to work while watching every customer who walked in. None of them were her.

I don’t know what I thought I was doing. Waiting? Hoping? Torturing myself?

Maybe all three.

Because the truth was—I wasn’t just missing Gina. I was missing what it felt like to want again.

And she made me want. Not just her. But to be softer. Better. More than who I’d become in boardrooms and balance sheets.

The sun dipped low behind the city skyline before I finally stood up to leave.

Still no message. Still no Gina.

But as I pushed the café door open, I told myself one thing:

This wasn’t the end.

Because maybe silence wasn’t rejection.

Maybe it was fear.

Or timing.

Or life just being messy.

But if fate brought her in once… it could happen again.

And this time, I’d be ready.