Two Paths Converge

Rain tapped softly against the café windows, sliding down the glass like a hushed metronome marking time. Evelyn sat with her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee; soaking in the warmth, watching the storm and feeling a pressure building inside her chest. Forty-two years old, recently divorced and uncertain what her next steps might be.

Outside, the world looked soft and blurry - half-formed, like her future.

She didn't notice him at first. The man in the corner, reading a dog-eared novel, the collar of his coat still damp from the rain. As her eyes traced up to his face, their eyes met briefly - just a flicker, but something caught in her, a spark she hadn't felt in years.

The left side of his soft mouth turned up in a hint of a smile.

When he rose to leave, his phone slipped from his pocket and landed near her feet. She bent instinctively to pick it up, their fingers brushing. Electricity. Surprise. Recognition of something nameless. She held the phone out to his outstretched hand.

"Thank you," his deep voice smooth and gentle, mouth turning up in a smile that lit up his eyes. "I am more distracted than I realized."

She smiled back, uncertain. He hesitated as though he wanted to say something more - and in that heartbeat, Evelyn had a choice: To speak... or let him walk away.

Evelyn 1:

"Wait!" she called out just as he was reaching for the door, he paused looking back at her. "Sit for a few minutes? If you can, it's miserable out there.

His eyes shuttered in pleasant resignation. "You just saved me from pretending I like the rain."

They talked for hours, the world outside dissolving into mist. His name was Liam. He was visiting for work, a photographer chasing light, storms and capturing memories. She told him about design, her love of painting and about rebuilding her life. Somehow it was easy. Natural. Like a door she didn't know she'd been standing against had suddenly opened.

By closing time, the storm had broken.

He walked her home, their shoulders and hands occasionally brushing. When they reached her building, she started to turn away. His hand clasped hers and he pulled her into his broad chest. Arms folding easily around her as he looked to her in askance. She tipped her chin up ever so slightly, eyes bright and his mouth lowered to hers.

Evelyn 2:

She smiled politely and said nothing, watching as he silently nodded his thanks and disappeared into the rain.

She told herself it didn't matter - he was just a stranger, after all. That night as thunder rolled outside her window, she wondered what might've happened if she had said something.

Shaking the "what if" off, she pushed the thoughts away. She has had enough disappointment to last two lifetimes.

Days passed, then weeks. Work consumed her once again. She traveled occasionally, designed and met deadlines. Her life became a pattern - safe, and predictable.

The ache of loneliness was something she learned to fold neatly inside herself. Years continued to slide by.

She grew more successful. At times she would sit by the window during a heavy storm, and sense the echo of something she had lost, but uncertain what that could be.

Evelyn 1:

Liam moved back six months later. They rented a small house by the coast, full of light and plants and laughter. He made her coffee every morning; she left sketches of flowers on his photography prints.

Love, she realized, didn't have to be dramatic to be real. Sometimes it was just quiet and constant as the tide that always comes back. They had built a cozy life together, at times predictable but with an occasional adventure.

A few years into this peace, Evelyn began to feel different - tired, queasy. The doctor smiled warmly, his words thrumming in her chest:

"You're pregnant, Congratulations!"

She laughed and then cried, and laughed some more. At forty-six, she thought it was practically impossible. She gave Liam the news, worried what his reaction might be.

Liam grinned ear to ear, lifting her and spinning her around, tears streaming down his own face. "It's a miracle!"

They would soon be a family. Everything felt completely perfect. Evelyn's belly began to grow, and Liam would talk to her swelling abdomen every chance he got.

Soon, Liam came down with a cough - nothing serious, he assured her. The sterile hospital lights told a different story. A diagnosis came that didn't seem real, couldn't be real: advanced, untreatable, terminal - three months at most.

He grew thinner and weaker with each passing week. Evelyn stayed at his bedside, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of sleep. She told him stories about the child they would have - a boy with his shining eyes, a girl with her stubbornness.

One night, he smiled at her as she rubbed her enlarged belly - she had only a few weeks left until their child would be here. His voice hoarse and dry he whispered as he clutched her warm hand in his icy grasp, "Promise me you will still live, even when it hurts."

"I promise," silver lined her eyes as the tears swelled and spilled down her cheeks.

He died before Spring.

The next week, their son was born. She named him Liam Jr. Life was still moving forward, and she could carry both of them into tomorrow.

Evelyn 2:

On another work trip years later, she drove through heavy rain, her mind foggy from exhaustion. A flash of light - tires skidding - and then, darkness consumed her.

When she woke, she was in a hospital bed. The nurse smiled kindly from her side. "You're a lucky one, it could have been so much worse. That storm has been just awful."

Her name was Clara. She stayed by Evelyn's side, chatting easily while changing IV bags, and checking vitals.

"You remind me of my brother," Clara smiled warmly looking off into the distance. "He was a photographer, loved to capture the storms in action."

"Was?"

"Yes, sadly he fell ill and passed away last early Spring. Heart of gold that brother of mine." Lost in memory, she continued looking off in the distance.

Evelyn smiled faintly, "I'm so sorry for your loss." Though, the name Liam caught at the edge of her memory like a whisper.

The accident became a strange turning point for Evelyn. Clara introduced her to a local art group after she was discharged. Among them was Daniel, a widower with kind eyes and a quiet steadiness that made her feel safe again.

They fast became friends, he never pushed her, always happy to listen. Their connection warmed to a spark that was undeniable, and they started to date.

Months later, they fell in love - not like fire, but like the growing sunrise: slow, certain and inevitable.

Evelyn learned to stop running from herself, trusting that Daniel would be the rock she could lean on when needed, as she could be for him as well. She threw herself fervently into painting, often scenes of intense storms and lightening.

Not long after Daniel moved into her place with her, she grew extremely tired, and often felt queasy. The doctor smiled over his spectacles at them both and smiled:

"You're pregnant."

Beyond shocked and overjoyed at this miracle, she and Daniel looked at one another, tears streaming down their faces.

Evelyn 1:

"Liam Jr, come inside the house this instant. It is time to go!"

Little Liam toddled in from the enclosed backyard, filthy from head to toe. "Okay mama!"

As he lifted his leg to step over the threshold of the back door, his toe caught and he launched forward his forehead hitting the tile. Instant tears and wails filled the room.

Evelyn rushed over and scooped him up, assessing the damage. Blood streamed from a cut on his forehead. Holding him to her, dirt and blood smearing over her clothes, she grabbed a clean towel, dampened it with some water to clean the dirt and then held a clean section of the towel to his cut.

"Oh my brave boy, looks like we are going to go see Aunty Clara today instead of going to the museum."

Sitting in the hospital room, Evelyn held Liam on her lap, Clara tended to his forehead quickly and tenderly.

"Oh my goodness, you brave young man, your father would be so proud of you for sitting still." Clara smiled at her nephew and handed him a sucker to distract him.

"I'm glad I got to see you, although better circumstances would have been preferred," Clara looked to Evelyn who smiled in agreement. "I have been going to this art group, and I feel like it would be a great opportunity for you to get back into your painting."

"You think? It feels too soon, what about Liam?" Evelyn's top teeth worried her bottom lip in hesitation.

"I am always happy to help with my cute nephew. Besides, maybe you might meet someone." Clara added slyly.

A couple of months later, Evelyn had become a regular to the art classes diving back into her painting. From the corner of her eye a dark form approached, pulling her attention from the canvas.

"Hi, I'm Daniel."

Evelyn smiled up at the tall man offering his hand and a smile in return.