The days after Jacob's return to his city moved in a blur—meetings, presentations, and boardroom discussions all clamored for his attention. Yet, beneath the buzz of corporate routine, his thoughts drifted to a quiet park bench, a soft smile, and the warm comfort of black coffee shared with someone who felt like home.
Even amid the noise, Diana remained a calm echo in his mind.
One evening, Jacob sat in his apartment, his suit jacket discarded and sleeves rolled up. The city lights flickered outside his window, reflecting in the glass of whiskey he barely touched. His phone vibrated.
Diana: "What's your favorite book?"
He blinked, slightly amused by the sudden question.
Jacob: "Why?"
Diana: "I'm building a reading corner in the gallery. Thought I'd stock it with things people might actually enjoy reading. You seem like someone who reads deep stuff in secret."
Jacob chuckled to himself.
Jacob: "'The Alchemist' by Paulo Coelho. Don't judge me."
Diana: "That book makes people feel like their heart is important. I'd never judge that."
Jacob sat back, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Meanwhile, Diana was rearranging a stack of donated books in the new reading corner of her gallery. Claire walked in, holding a tray of sandwiches.
Claire: "You're smiling again. Let me guess… Jacob?"
Diana: "He likes 'The Alchemist.' I kind of love that."
Claire: "Girl, you're gone."
Diana: (softly) "I know."
Later that week, Diana sent Jacob a photo. It was of a corner in the gallery: a vintage armchair tucked beside a tall bookshelf. On the small wooden table beside it sat a single book—The Alchemist.
Diana: "For the serious readers."
Jacob: "Looks perfect. But it's missing something."
Diana: "What?"
Jacob: "Me, sitting there, drinking black coffee and debating with you over whether destiny is real."
Diana stared at the message, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Finally, she replied:
Diana: "I'll reserve the seat."
Two weeks later, Jacob returned. He stepped into the gallery unannounced, wearing that familiar tailored coat and holding two coffees. Diana, standing near the far end of the room, looked up and froze.
Jacob: "I believe you have a seat saved for me."
Diana: (laughing as she walked toward him) "Took you long enough."
They sat in the reading corner, sipping coffee in comfortable silence.
Jacob: "I missed this place. Missed you."
Diana: (smiling softly) "You came back. That's what matters."
He leaned forward, his voice quieter now.
Jacob: "Can I ask you something?"
Diana: "Of course."
Jacob: "Are we still pretending this is all hypothetical?"
She looked at him for a long moment, then reached across the small table and took his hand.
Diana: "No. Not anymore."
A beat of silence passed between them. Then Jacob stood slowly and pulled her gently into a hug.
Jacob: "Good. Because I'd like to keep showing up… for real this time."
Diana: (whispering against his chest) "Then don't stop."
As the soft hum of the gallery filled the space, their quiet embrace stood in beautiful contrast to the silence of unspoken feelings finally answered.
They remained seated in the gallery's quiet reading corner, the bustle of the city muffled by thick walls and tall windows. The faint scent of coffee lingered, blending with the subtle aroma of aged paper from the books lining the shelf beside them.
Diana shifted slightly in her seat, looking at Jacob with a thoughtful expression.
Diana: "You know, it's strange… I've known people for years and never shared moments like this with them."
Jacob: (gently) "And we've only known each other for a handful of weeks."
Diana: "Right. But it feels… anchored. Like we've just picked up something from where it left off a long time ago."
Jacob nodded, watching her as she absently traced the edge of her coffee cup.
Jacob: "I've been asking myself what makes this feel different. Why I keep catching myself waiting for your name to appear on my phone… or wondering how you'd react to a painting or some random quote I read."
Diana: "And?"
Jacob: (smiling faintly) "I haven't figured it out. But I don't mind not knowing, as long as I get to find out alongside you."
Diana didn't respond right away. Instead, she leaned back, her eyes scanning the gallery space they'd curated together through messages and conversations over time. She gestured toward the bookshelf.
Diana: "You remember when you told me 'The Alchemist' was your favorite?"
Jacob: "Hard to forget. You made sure to place it exactly where I'd notice it."
Diana: "It's not just a book. It's a compass. Everyone's chasing their 'Personal Legend.' I've always wondered if mine would ever involve another person... not just art or curating or keeping everyone else's stories alive."
She paused, looking at him.
Diana: "Maybe this—us—is a chapter I never planned for."
Jacob reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Jacob: "Some of the best stories aren't planned."
Later that afternoon, the gallery door creaked open. Claire stepped in, carrying a stack of flyers. She froze when she saw the two of them sitting side by side.
Claire: (grinning) "Wow. So this is what happens when I leave the gallery alone for a few hours?"
Diana: (rolling her eyes playfully) "Don't start."
Jacob stood up, offering a hand to Claire.
Jacob: "Good to see you again."
Claire: "Likewise. You're the guy who brought coffee and calm to my sister's chaotic life."
Diana: "He's still working on the calm part."
Claire: (teasing) "Well, just don't mess it up. Diana hasn't smiled like this in... forever."
Diana blushed, nudging Claire as Jacob chuckled.
Evening began to fall, painting the gallery with soft shadows and golden streaks. Diana locked the main doors, turning the "Closed" sign with a flick of her wrist.
Diana: "You have time for dinner?"
Jacob: "Only if I get to make it up to you for forgetting the umbrella."
Diana: (mock serious) "You better. That umbrella had sentimental value."
Jacob: "I'll bring dessert, too."
She smiled and pulled on her coat.
Diana: "Alright, Mr. Daniels. Let's see if your cooking skills match your charm."
He opened the door for her, tipping an imaginary hat.
Jacob: "Challenge accepted."
As they stepped out into the street, the city welcomed them with a soft breeze and the glow of evening lights. Their steps matched in rhythm, neither too fast nor too slow. Two people walking beside each other—curious, open, no longer hypothetical.