The next few days passed in a blur of noise, deadlines, and the slow hum of the same uncertain thoughts that had been buzzing in Archie's mind since that night at the diner. He tried to push it all down—tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, that there was no reason to fixate on the face of someone who didn't even remember him.
But the feeling kept coming back. That pull. The quiet, undeniable tug in his chest that something was waiting, something unresolved, something important that his brain couldn't quite reach.
And then, one afternoon, after trying and failing to focus on his reading for the third time in an hour, Archie gave up and decided he needed a break. He needed air, space, something familiar to quiet the noise in his head.
He found himself walking toward the park. The one he used to visit before the accident—before things got tangled and forgotten. It was a small, quiet park near the edge of campus, the kind where the trees were old and wide, their roots curling under the grass like they knew secrets. There was a pond with ducks that Archie used to sit by for hours, a small footbridge that creaked when you crossed it, and a little ice cream stand near the far corner that had the creamiest strawberry ice cream he'd ever tasted.
It was a place where things felt simpler. Calmer.
He didn't know why he was drawn there today. Maybe because it was still a memory of before. Or maybe because he was searching for something—someone—that could make the edges of his world feel a little less jagged.
When he reached the ice cream stand, he stood there for a moment, watching the familiar swirl of soft serve being dished into cones. The air was warm and smelled faintly of sugar and grass, and for a moment, everything felt right.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw him.
The guy.
The same face. The same hair. The same feeling.
His heart lurched in his chest. The guy stood a few feet away, staring at the park, his back to Archie. And like some cosmic joke, the guy was holding the same cone—strawberry ice cream, just like what he ordered.
For a moment, time felt like it paused. The rush of the world around them seemed to fade into the background. All that existed was that quiet, electric connection between the two of them. Archie's pulse quickened, the air suddenly thick with something that he couldn't quite place.
The guy, undeniably tall and handsome, wore a relaxed smile as he glanced at Archie. That same unshakable familiarity. But this time, Archie could feel it. The way the guy's gaze lingered a little longer than usual, as if considering something unspoken. Something that hadn't quite been finished.
"You," the guy said, his voice smooth and warm. "I remember you."
Archie's heart skipped. What?
"You were at the diner the other night, right?" The guy stepped closer, just enough to close the distance between them, and Archie could swear he felt his breath hitch. "I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself. But I thought I saw you again..."
Archie blinked, trying to swallow the lump forming in his throat. How? How could he possibly have remembered him? It had been such a fleeting exchange.
"Yeah, I was there," Archie said, trying to play it cool, even though his voice sounded a little unsteady. "I—uh, I didn't know if you'd... recognized me." He half-laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed, but the guy didn't look away.
The guy raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "I don't forget faces easily," he said, voice soft but with an intensity that made Archie's stomach tighten. "Especially not when they look like they belong in some kind of story."
Archie's breath caught in his throat, and he blinked, feeling like his mind had short-circuited. A story? What did that even mean?
Before he could say anything more, the guy gestured to the ice cream stand. "Strawberry, right?" he asked, his gaze flicking to the cone in Archie's hand.
Archie nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah, I—I love strawberry. It's, uh, my favorite."
The guy smiled wider, that easy, almost teasing smile that made Archie's stomach flip. "Good choice," he said, and then something flickered in his eyes. A shift. Something unreadable.
There was a long pause before the guy glanced down at his phone. "Ah," he muttered. "I've gotta take this, but I'll be quick."
Archie watched him, heart pounding in his chest as the guy stepped back slightly, pulling his phone out and glancing at the screen. His posture shifted, becoming more distracted, but the connection they shared was still hanging between them like a live wire.
"I'm sorry," the guy said, pressing the phone to his ear. "It's important. I'll just—" He started to walk away, but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Hey, I'll see you around, yeah?"
Archie stood there, frozen, his heart hammering in his chest. For a moment, he had the wild, ridiculous hope that the guy might ask for his name, might really stay.
But the guy turned back to his phone call, already lost in a conversation about schedules and pickups, and Archie's shoulders slumped. The feeling of almost was like a weight in his chest, heavy and achingly familiar. It was like a dream that had slipped just out of reach.
He couldn't even bring himself to call out. He couldn't do anything but stand there, feeling like an idiot who had been too caught up in what could have been to do anything real.
And just like that, the guy was gone.
Archie didn't know how long he stood there, staring after him, the world around him rushing back into focus. The chatter of people, the rustling of the trees, the distant sound of children's laughter. All of it felt like a million miles away.
He could still taste the strawberry on his tongue, but it was bittersweet now, tinged with regret and unspoken things. Two missed opportunities.
And as he walked away from the ice cream stand, his mind racing, there was one thought that refused to leave him: I should have asked his name.