You Might Be The One (A Fan Fiction) - Luke Hemmings

Chapter 18• A New Beginning

Leyla's POV

The next morning felt strange. The house was quiet, the usual morning chatter replaced by a tense silence. Xiana left early for work without a word, and I didn't try to stop her. My head was a jumble of thoughts, replaying every moment from the day before: the kiss, the confrontation with JJ, and the fragile, hopeful promise on the hill with Luke.

I spent the morning in my room, staring at my reflection. The girl in the mirror was the same, but I felt different. Like a puzzle that had just been given its final, most important piece. I still didn't have the full picture, but I knew where to start putting it together. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I grabbed it, my heart pounding in my chest.

It was from an unsaved number, but I knew it was him.

Hey. I'm at our old spot. If you want to talk.

Our old spot. My heart skipped a beat. I had no idea what he was talking about, but it felt right. Like a forgotten memory just on the tip of my tongue. I quickly changed, grabbed my headphones and a notepad, and headed out.

The spot was a small coffee shop tucked away on a quiet street, its windows decorated with vintage postcards. I saw Luke through the glass, sitting at a corner table with a cup of coffee. He was staring at his hands, a thoughtful expression on his face.

I walked in, and a small bell above the door chimed. He looked up, and a tired but genuine smile spread across his face. I sat down opposite him, my bag on the floor.

"You came," he said, his voice soft.

"You asked me to," I replied, a nervous flutter in my stomach. "I don't know this place, but... it feels like I should."

He smiled, a different kind of smile this time, one that was filled with sadness and joy all at once. "It's where we'd come after school. You'd always get a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows."

I felt a pang in my chest. It was a detail so specific, so personal, that it felt like a ghost of a memory. "Luke," I started, "I'm so sorry. About everything. About not remembering. About the kiss with Robin."

He shook his head. "Don't be. You couldn't have known. The only person I'm mad at is myself. I should've told you sooner. It was just... I was afraid of losing you. Of you hating me for not telling you."

"I could never hate you," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm just starting to understand what you've been living with. I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you. To be so close, but so far away."

He reached for my hand across the table, his fingers intertwining with mine. "We have today," he said, his thumb stroking my hand gently. "We have right now. That's all that matters."

I looked at our hands, his warm, rough fingers wrapped around my smooth ones. It was a new beginning. We were building something new, a new story, brick by brick. And this time, it was going to be real.

~

The bell above the coffee shop door chimed again, but neither of us looked up. Luke's thumb continued to trace small, soothing circles on the back of my hand. The weight of his hand felt familiar in a way that defied my memory, a comfort I hadn't realized I was missing.

"You want to hear a story?" he asked, his voice low. "About us?"

I nodded, unable to form words. I needed this. I needed to fill the blank spaces in my mind with something other than guesswork and the bitterness of a half-truth.

He took a sip of his coffee and smiled, looking out the window as he spoke. "We were ten. Your sister had just gotten a new camera and was driving us crazy, trying to get the perfect photo. We were hiding from her in the attic, surrounded by old boxes, when we found a shoebox filled with your grandmother's letters. She wrote them to your grandfather when he was away. You started reading them out loud, but with your own little flair. You made up voices for them, and every time you got to a particularly cheesy line, you'd make a face and we'd dissolve into giggles. We spent the whole afternoon up there, just reading and laughing, totally lost in their world. It was the first time I realized how much I loved your imagination."