Fated Encounters

Chapter-3

Angela sat at her desk in the exam hall, the clock ticking steadily in the background. The sound of scribbling pens filled the room, but her mind kept drifting. She was supposed to be focusing on her final exam, but thoughts of Patrick crept into her mind. Despite everything, she couldn’t ignore how much his presence affected her.

Meanwhile, Patrick sat in Angela’s room, restless. He had offered to help her study, but Angela was now in the exam hall, leaving him with nothing to do but wait. His gaze drifted to her desk, where a small notebook lay half-hidden under a stack of papers.

Curiosity got the best of him. He hesitated for a moment, then picked up the notebook and flipped it open. At first, it seemed like ordinary notes—random thoughts, reminders. But as he turned the pages, his breath caught. It wasn’t just a notebook. It was her diary.

He knew he shouldn’t read it, but something in him—a pull, a need to understand her more deeply—pushed him to keep going. As he scanned the words, his heart tightened.

---

Diary Entry:

“I miss them every day—my parents. Even after all this time, the pain doesn’t go away. I feel like I’m floating in this world, alone. Sasha’s great, she’s my best friend, but she’ll never understand this empty space in my heart. It’s like everyone I care about gets taken away, and I’m left behind to figure things out on my own.

I try to be strong, I try not to let it show, but sometimes I just want to disappear. No one really sees me. No one really understands what it’s like to lose everything.”

---

Patrick’s grip tightened on the edge of the notebook. He had never seen this side of Angela—this vulnerable, lonely part of her that she kept hidden so well. She had always seemed strong, independent, even stubborn at times. But reading these words made him realize that, beneath it all, she was just a girl who had lost so much, yet never had the chance to heal.

His chest ached. He could relate to the feeling of loss, but Angela’s loneliness ran deeper than he had ever imagined. She felt alone in a way that even Sasha couldn’t fill.

Patrick flipped to another page, where Angela had written about her parents:

---

Diary Entry:

“I still dream about them sometimes. My mom’s laugh, my dad’s smile—they haunt me in the best way. But it’s also a reminder of what I’ve lost. It’s been years, and yet, sometimes I feel like I’m still that scared little girl, waiting for them to come home.

But they’re never coming back. And I’m stuck, pretending everything’s okay. It’s exhausting.”

---

Patrick closed the diary gently, guilt gnawing at him for invading her privacy. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t realized how much she was carrying, all alone. The way she smiled, the way she kept moving forward—it was all a mask.

He sat back in the chair, his mind racing. Angela was in pain, and she had been hiding it so well that even he hadn’t noticed. Or maybe, he had been too wrapped up in his own world to see it.

For the first time since they had met, Patrick felt something shift inside him. He had always viewed Angela as someone strong, someone who didn’t need saving. But now, he realized she had been holding herself together all this time, barely hanging on.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been wrong about her. Maybe she wasn’t just a part of this mission, an obligation. Maybe, just maybe, she was more than that.

---

By the time Angela finished her exam and returned to her room, Patrick was still sitting there, his expression unreadable. She noticed the diary on the desk, slightly out of place, and her heart dropped.

“Did you…?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Patrick met her gaze, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. But Angela… you’re not alone.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. She had never expected anyone to read those words, especially not Patrick. She felt exposed, vulnerable. But at the same time, there was something in his voice—something that made her believe he understood.

She turned away, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I know,” Patrick said, standing up and walking towards her. “But I’m glad I did. Because now I see you, Angela. I see the real you.”

Angela’s hands trembled as she clasped them together. She had spent so long hiding her pain, hiding how much she missed her parents, and how alone she truly felt. But here was Patrick, standing in front of her, seeing the parts of her she had kept locked away.

“I’m not as strong as you think,” she admitted, her voice shaky.

Patrick reached out and gently touched her arm. “You’re stronger than you know,” he whispered.

Angela looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. For the first time, she felt like someone truly saw her. Not just the girl who was supposed to help him, not just someone who was part of his mission, but the person she really was.

And in that moment, something between them changed.