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Part - 3
The café smelled richer than usual that Saturday morning, the kind of roasted warmth that clung to Evelyn’s senses as she arranged pastries in the glass case. She told herself she wasn’t looking for him, but when the bell chimed, her pulse betrayed her.
Daniel Rhodes stepped in—his sketchbook under one arm, a familiar calmness in his stride. But today, there was something different. Hanging from his hand was a small leather pouch, its shape curved, as if holding something round and delicate.
“Morning,” Evelyn said, her smile breaking free before she could stop it.
“Morning,” Daniel replied, setting the pouch carefully on the counter. “Same cappuccino, please.”
“Of course,” she said, glancing at the pouch. “And what’s in there? Don’t tell me another antique. Are you building a museum here in my café?”
Daniel chuckled, unfastening the pouch. “Not quite a museum. More like… a family archive.”
From the pouch, he drew out a gleaming brass pocket watch. The chain glimmered, the casing worn smooth from years of touch. When he opened it, the ticking was soft, steady, and somehow soothing.
Evelyn’s breath caught. “It’s beautiful.”
The Pocket Watch
Daniel turned the watch in his hand. “This one’s the piece I treasure most. My grandfather gave it to my father, and my father passed it down to me. It doesn’t just tell time. It tells stories.”
Evelyn leaned closer, drawn in. “What kind of stories?”
Daniel’s eyes softened. “Every scratch, every dent—it’s from a journey, a moment. My grandfather carried it on long voyages. My father kept it during his first years in Boston. And me… I’ve carried it in every city I’ve worked in. Whenever I feel… lost, I open it, and I remember that the moments we have are limited. We either waste them… or we spend them with the people who matter.”
The weight of his words settled between them, heavier than the brass watch itself.
A Confession Brewing
As Evelyn slid his cappuccino across the counter, her hand brushed his briefly. A jolt of awareness passed through her. She quickly pulled back, but Daniel noticed.
“You always rush when things get close,” he said quietly, almost teasing but not unkind.
Her heart skipped. “I don’t.”
“You do,” he said, smiling. “It’s alright. Most people are afraid of closeness. Of what it means.”
Evelyn looked at the pocket watch again, avoiding his gaze. “And what does it mean to you?”
Daniel didn’t hesitate. “It means not letting time slip away without saying what you feel.”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “And… do you?”
For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Instead, he closed the pocket watch with a soft click. “Maybe I’m still learning how.”
Maya’s Sharp Eye
As if the tension weren’t enough, Maya appeared, tray in hand. “Evie, are you seriously going to melt into a puddle in front of him again? Customers are waiting.”
“Maya,” Evelyn hissed, glaring.
Daniel chuckled. “I like her honesty.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Evelyn muttered, cheeks burning.
Maya smirked knowingly and walked away, leaving them in silence again.
Sharing Moments
Later that afternoon, Evelyn brought her tea to Daniel’s table during her break. The pocket watch lay open beside his sketchbook, its steady tick-tick a gentle background to their conversation.
“You ever feel like…” Evelyn began, hesitant, “no matter what you do, you’re running out of time?”
Daniel looked up, his expression thoughtful. “Every day. That’s why I draw. Why I carry these old things. They remind me to hold on to what matters.”
“And what matters to you?” she asked softly.
His eyes met hers, and for once, his answer wasn’t guarded. “Connections. The people who make me forget I’m counting minutes.”
Her breath caught again. She wanted to say something—something real, something about how his presence had already shifted her days. But the words stuck in her throat.
Instead, she reached out and touched the pocket watch gently. “It’s warm.”
Daniel smiled. “Because it’s been carried. Because it’s lived.”
The Edge of Distance
As evening approached, Daniel closed his sketchbook, slipping the watch back into its pouch. Evelyn, wiping down the counter, noticed a distant look in his eyes.
“You seem… somewhere else,” she said carefully.
He hesitated. “I got a call this morning. A firm in Chicago wants me for a project. It would mean moving there for months. Maybe longer.”
Her chest tightened. “Oh.”
“It’s a good opportunity,” he continued, though his tone was conflicted. “But…” His eyes flicked to her, then away. “It would mean leaving things here unfinished.”
Evelyn forced a smile. “Well, architects are supposed to build, right? Can’t fault you for following your path.”
But inside, her heart sank. For weeks, she had told herself this was just a friendly connection, harmless. But now the thought of him leaving felt unbearable.
A Walk in the Night
When closing time came, Daniel lingered again. Evelyn walked beside him under the streetlamps, the city quieter than usual.
“You know,” she said, trying to sound light, “first a compass, then an hourglass, now a pocket watch. At this rate, you’ll be bringing in an entire antique shop.”
Daniel smiled faintly. “Maybe I just want to share them with someone who actually listens.”
She met his gaze, and the unspoken words hung between them. She was listening. She had been, every single day.
They paused at the corner where they always parted. Daniel pulled out the pocket watch, flipping it open. The ticking filled the quiet night.
“I don’t know how much time I have here,” he said softly. “But I know this—I’d rather spend it here, with you, than anywhere else.”
Evelyn’s heart raced. She wanted to speak, to confess, to beg him not to leave. But fear held her tongue.
So instead, she whispered, “Goodnight, Daniel.”
“Goodnight, Evelyn.”
As he walked away, the faint ticking of the pocket watch seemed to echo in her chest, each beat reminding her of the moments slipping through her fingers—moments she wasn’t sure she could afford to waste any longer.
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