WHEN OUR EYES MET

It was supposed to be an ordinary evening. Amarachi walked out of the café with her bag slung over her shoulder, humming softly to the rhythm of the rain tapping against the roof. She hated the rain. Not because it was wet and messy, but because it always reminded her of how alone she felt. As she reached for her umbrella, someone bumped into her—hard enough to make her drop it. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” a deep voice said. She looked up and froze. The man standing before her was tall, with rain-soaked hair sticking to his forehead and a white shirt that had turned almost transparent in the drizzle. His eyes—dark, intense, and strangely familiar—held hers like he’d been waiting for this moment. “You okay?” he asked, bending down to pick up her umbrella. “Yes,” she whispered, but her heart was pounding so loudly it almost drowned out the rain. When he handed her the umbrella, their fingers brushed. Just for a second. But that second felt like an eternity, and Amarachi felt something stir deep inside her—a spark she hadn’t felt in years. “Thanks,” she said quickly, taking a step back. He smiled. Slow. Dangerous. The kind of smile that promised trouble. “You’re welcome,” he said, and then, without asking, he walked beside her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Amarachi wanted to tell him to go his way, but her lips refused to move. Something about him… something told her this was just the beginning.