Where we almost met

In the middle of a restless night traffic jam, she notices him for the first time - a quiet motorbike rider who appears ordinary at a glance, until a brief moment when he lifts his helmet visor and their eyes meet. It lasts only seconds, but it's enough to stay in her mind long after he disappears into the flow of cars.
She doesn't see him again for days.
Then weeks.
At first, she tells herself it meant nothing. Just a stranger. Just a passing moment. But something about the timing, the feeling, and the way he vanished so cleanly refuses to leave her thoughts.
Without fully understanding why, she starts adjusting her routine - leaving at certain hours, choosing familiar routes, paying attention to traffic patterns she never cared about before. Not because she is actively searching, but because part of her expects him to reappear.
And sometimes, he almost does.
A bike that looks like his. A familiar posture ahead in traffic. A presence that feels just close enough to make her doubt herself, only for distance or timing to pull them apart again.
Each near-encounter deepens the same question between them:
Was it just coincidence... or are they always one moment away from finally meeting properly?