That night, Mira's mind refused to rest.
Even after turning off the lights and lying in bed, her thoughts kept moving in circles.
The café.
The rooftop.
The promises to forget.
The strange pattern they had discovered.
And the final sentence he had written.
"Maybe this isn't the first time our story started."
Mira turned to the other side of the bed.
"Don't think too much," she whispered to herself.
But that had never been easy for her.
Eventually, exhaustion slowly pulled her into sleep.
And that's when the dream began.
At first, everything was blurry.
Just shadows and distant sounds.
Like a memory hidden behind fog.
Then the scene slowly became clearer.
Mira was standing somewhere unfamiliar.
Not her room.
Not the office.
Not the rooftop.
It looked like a small street café.
But it didn't look like Café Aurora.
The furniture was different.
The lights were softer.
And the streets outside looked quieter.
Almost like another city.
Mira looked down at herself.
She was wearing clothes she didn't recognize.
A long white dress.
Something she would never normally wear.
"Where am I?" she whispered.
Then she noticed someone sitting at a table near the window.
Her heart skipped immediately.
It was him.
But something felt different.
He wasn't wearing modern clothes either.
Instead, he wore a simple black coat.
Something that looked almost old-fashioned.
Mira slowly walked closer.
Her footsteps silent.
Yet he somehow noticed her.
He looked up.
And smiled.
But the strange part was—
He didn't look surprised.
"You're late," he said calmly.
Mira froze.
Late?
Her voice came out quietly.
"Late for what?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"Did you forget again?"
A strange chill ran through her body.
"What do you mean… again?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked outside the window.
Like he had already expected this moment.
"You always forget," he said softly.
Mira felt a strange sadness hearing those words.
"Forget what?"
He finally looked at her again.
His expression calm but tired.
"Our story."
The words echoed through the café.
Mira's heart began beating faster.
"This… doesn't make sense," she whispered.
He gave a small smile.
"That's what you always say."
Her chest tightened.
"Who are you?" she asked.
For the first time, his expression changed slightly.
Not anger.
Not surprise.
Just quiet disappointment.
"You asked that last time too."
Last time?
Mira shook her head.
"This is just a dream."
He stood up slowly.
Walking closer to her.
The strange thing was—
The closer he came, the stronger the feeling in her chest became.
The same feeling she had on the rooftop.
"Maybe," he said.
"But sometimes dreams remember things people try to forget."
Mira's breathing became uneven.
"What are you talking about?"
He stopped in front of her.
Looking directly into her eyes.
"Every time we meet… something separates us."
The words felt painfully familiar.
"Different places," he continued.
"Different times."
Mira's heart raced.
"But somehow," he added quietly,
"we always find each other again."
The café suddenly felt colder.
"Why?" Mira whispered.
He looked at her carefully.
"That's the part we've never figured out."
The silence between them grew heavy.
Then he said something that made Mira's heart stop.
"You always leave first."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"Why would I do that?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he said something that made the dream feel painfully real.
"Because every time you start remembering… you get scared."
Mira's chest tightened.
Then he added the final sentence.
"And then you ask me to forget you."
The café suddenly began fading.
The lights dimming.
The walls dissolving into darkness.
"Wait!" Mira said quickly.
But the dream was already breaking apart.
She tried to ask one more question.
The most important one.
"Who are we to each other?"
The last thing she heard before waking up was his answer.
"We're the story that never finishes."
Mira woke up suddenly.
Her heart beating wildly.
Her room was dark.
Her phone showed 3:12 AM.
For a moment, she just sat there.
Trying to calm her breathing.
"It was just a dream," she whispered.
But something about it felt too real.
Too detailed.
Too emotional.
Then her phone buzzed.
A message.
From him.
Mira's heart skipped.
Because the message said only one sentence.
"Did you dream about me too?"
Her entire body went cold.
Because she had never told him about the dream.