FINDING YOU , LOVING ME

THE PHOTOGRAPH

CHAPTER 4

The Photograph

Mia's POV

The question wouldn't leave my mind.

How long had Ethan Reyes been noticing me?

I tried to forget about it.

I really did.

But every time I saw him in the hallway, I caught myself wondering.

Was it a coincidence that he always seemed to be nearby?

Or was there something I didn't know?

"Mia!"

I nearly dropped my notebook.

Lia appeared beside me, carrying two drinks.

"You're spacing out again."

"I'm thinking."

"About Ethan?"

I sighed.

"Do you ever get tired of saying his name?"

"No."

She handed me a drink.

"Because your face changes every time I do."

"My face does not change."

"It does."

Before I could argue, the bell rang.

We hurried to class.

---

After school, I returned to The Book Nook.

It had become my favorite place to escape.

The familiar smell of books, the warm lights, and the sound of rain tapping against the windows made everything feel peaceful.

I walked toward my usual corner.

Then I stopped.

Someone was already there.

Ethan.

He looked up from his coffee.

"You're late."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Late for what?"

He smiled.

"Nothing."

I sat across from him.

"You keep saying things that don't make sense."

"Maybe you're supposed to figure them out."

I rolled my eyes.

"You're impossible."

He laughed quietly.

For a few minutes, we read in silence.

Then Ethan suddenly reached into his backpack.

"I found something."

He placed an old photograph on the table.

I stared at it.

It was a picture of two children standing outside a bookstore.

A little boy.

And a little girl.

The girl was holding a book.

My breath caught.

I picked up the photograph.

"Where did you get this?"

Ethan didn't answer.

I looked closer.

The little girl looked familiar.

Very familiar.

My eyes widened.

"That's me."

Ethan nodded.

"And that's..."

I looked at the boy.

My heart started beating faster.

I recognized him.

Not because of his face.

Because of the brown hoodie.

The same one Ethan always wore.

I looked at him.

"Ethan..."

He remained quiet.

"You were there?"

He nodded.

"A long time ago."

I stared at the photograph again.

"How?"

"My mom used to work near this bookstore."

I turned the photograph over.

There was something written on the back.

A date.

And beneath it, a sentence.

"For the girl who loves stories—I'll find you again someday."

My hands trembled slightly.

"Who wrote this?"

Ethan looked at me.

"I did."

Everything suddenly became quiet.

"You?"

He nodded.

"But why?"

He took a breath.

"Because you helped me once."

"I don't remember."

"I know."

He looked down.

"You probably wouldn't."

I waited.

"What happened?"

He hesitated.

"I was having a really difficult time back then. I didn't know anyone. You found me sitting outside the bookstore."

I listened carefully.

"You gave me a book."

"What book?"

He smiled faintly.

"I don't remember the title."

I laughed softly.

"Then how do you remember me?"

His eyes met mine.

"Because I remembered the person who gave it to me."

My smile slowly disappeared.

There was something in his voice.

Something sincere.

"You said something that day," he continued.

"What?"

He looked at the photograph.

"You told me that sometimes people get lost, but that doesn't mean they'll stay lost forever."

My chest tightened.

"I said that?"

"Yeah."

He smiled.

"And I believed you."

I didn't know what to say.

The memory was somewhere in my mind.

A rainy afternoon.

A little boy.

A book.

But everything felt blurry.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Ethan said.

"Then how did you find me?"

He looked at me.

"I saw your notebook."

"My notebook?"

"The one with the word LIST on the cover."

I froze.

"You remember that?"

"I remembered the girl with the book."

He smiled.

"Then I saw the notebook."

I looked down.

For the first time, everything started making sense.

The bookstore.

The rain.

The notebook.

Ethan.

Maybe our meetings weren't coincidences after all.

I slowly pushed the photograph back toward him.

"You kept this all these years?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

He looked at me for a long moment.

"Because I promised I'd find you."

My heart skipped.

"And now that you found me?"

His expression softened.

"I don't know."

He picked up the photograph.

"Maybe I'm supposed to find out what happens next."

I smiled nervously.

"That's a strange promise."

"Probably."

He stood and placed the photograph carefully inside his notebook.

Then he looked at me.

"But I'm glad I kept it."

Outside, the rain began falling again.

And as I watched the drops slide down the window, I realized something.

Maybe Ethan wasn't a stranger who had suddenly appeared in my life.

Maybe he was someone my story had been waiting for.

And maybe—

we had met long before either of us knew what love was.