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16

MARIANA

I opened the shop later than usual, dragging my feet on the way in.

The nervous energy was still there, heavy in my chest.

I didn't want to admit it, but I was waiting for him.

Watching the door out of the corner of my eye, pretending to be busy with the books but always listening for the sound of footsteps.

I told myself I was just being careful, that I was watching out for myself.

But deep down, I knew it wasn't just that.

Part of me wanted him to come back, to see what he would say, to see if I could figure him out.

By mid-afternoon, I had convinced myself that maybe he wasn't coming at all.

Maybe he had forgotten or changed his mind.

I tried to focus on the quiet rhythm of the day, but then the bell above the door rang, and I knew.

It was him.

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