When fate plays its hand

*****

Just as Miranda took a couple of bites of the roasted potato, she glanced up and saw a familiar figure standing in front of her apartment building

Paul was there, as always. He was committed to his nightly runs, and despite the biting cold, it wasn’t unusual to see him out exercising. But today, he wasn’t dressed in his usual athletic wear

Instead, he was in a tailored cont. His posture was upright, and his expression was slightly serious It felt less like a coincidence and more like he was waiting for her

“Dr. Jefferson,” Miranda greeted him with a smile as she walked closer

Paul returned her smile, but his gaze faltered when it landed on the bouquet of blue roses in her arms

“Went out for some fun?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” Miranda replied. “I picked up my car from the dealership after repairs, and then I went to a

piano concert.”

“Those flowers they’re quite unique,” Paul noted

Miranda’s face lit up. “Dr. Jefferson, take a closer look. Can you see what’s special about them?”

She extended the bouquet toward him he could inspect them better Paul lowered his head, studied the roses briefly, and touched the petals “Cultivated naturally?”

It was classic Paul–his sharp instincts as a former biology prodigy shone through immediately

“Exactly!” Miranda nodded enthusiastically.

“Where did you get them?” Paul asked.

Miranda hesitated for a moment before deciding to tell the truth. “Sam gave them to me.”

Paul’s expression darkened subtly. “Why would he suddenly give you flowers?”

“It was for my birthday…” she explained softly.

“So, he celebrated it with you?” Paul paused briefly, as though piecing something together. “And took you to the piano concert as well?”

“Yeah,” Miranda admitted.

Paul’s lips pressed into a thin, restrained line. His hands at his sides gradually curled into fists. Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

Breaking the tension, Miranda handed him a peeled potato, the beige flesh steaming slightly in the cold. “Dr. Jefferson, would you like one?”

“Sure, thank you.” He accepted it without hesitation.

“Let me take the flowers; it’s probably hard for you to hold both “Now finished with her sweet potato, -Miranda reached out to take the bouquet back and free his hands.

“No need. I’ll hold them,” Paul replied “You already peeled the potato for me.

With that, he managed to balance the bouquet in one hand and eat the sweet potato with the other

As they climbed the stairs together, Paul broke the silence. “Miranda, we’ve known each other for over a year now, haven’t we? I still remember when you first moved in. You’d just gotten out of your last relationship and seemed so weighed down.”

Thinking back to that time, Miranda couldn’t help but reflect. “Yes, I was. Even though I’d already made up my mind to end things and knew it was the best decision for me, the aftermath still hit me harder than I expected.

“But thankfully, it’s all behind me now. I remember you once said that time is the best medicine. There’s no need for self–pity or rushing the process–just leave it to time, and the wounds will eventually heal.”

Paul glanced at her. “And have you healed? Truly moved on?”

“Sorry?” Miranda stopped in her tracks, startled by the question. She turned to face him

Paul repeated, “Have you moved on from your last relationship?”

“Of course!” she replied firmly. The past had drifted away like a distant breeze, and she had unknowingly let it go long ago.

“Then…“Paul hesitated for a moment before continuing “Have you thought about starting a new one?”

The question hung in the air. Paul’s heart felt as though it was clenched tight, and he was holding his breath This wasn’t an offhand remark. He had been carrying this thought for days, searching for the right moment to express it

It stemmed from their recent conversation. When he celebrated Miranda’s birthday by taking her to the factory workshop, she had asked him why he had given her the necklace.

At that time, his mind had gone blank, and he had clumsily answered, “Because it’s your birthday.”

But as he drove home that night, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his response had been too shallow, too lacking. He wanted to answer her properly–to take the chance to reveal what had been weighing on his heart Yes, he liked Miranda. He liked her very much.

He liked her so much that just seeing her made his chest swell with joy. That hearing her voice made his heart race uncontrollably.

So much that even in his dreams, his feelings for her broke free–unbridled, shameless, and utterly irrepressible