UNTIL LOVE FOUND US

FERD

eeting moment, the world around us faded-the rain ceased its relentless assault, the night dimmed, and my chaotic thoughts fell silent. All that remained was her face, water dripping from her dark hair, her lips parting in a breathless gasp. But just as quickly, a wave of murky rainwater surged toward her, a force I hadn't perceived in my frustration, drenching her from head to toe. Her gasp morphed into a sharp cry of disbelief, and she stumbled back, wiping furiously at her dripping face. In an instant, the shock was replaced with volcanic anger, her eyes igniting as she turned to confront me. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted, her voice slicing through the storm like a knife. I rolled down the window, still reeling from the near-miss but too stubborn to fully own my part in it. "Maybe don't stand in the middle of the street next time," I snapped, bitterness spilling out before I could stop it. Her glare was scorching, her soaked figure trembling with fury. "And maybe learn how to drive without acting like a complete jerk!" We locked eyes in an electric moment, the rain pouring between us like an unyielding wall. Her gaze wasn't just angry; it was fierce and unflinching as if daring me to look away. Even drenched and furious, there was a strength about her that captivated me, holding my attention captive. But I let my frustration take over. Without another word, I rolled the window up and drove off, leaving her alone in the storm. I didn't apologize; I was too wrapped up in my misery to acknowledge her rage-or her presence. END OF FLASHBACK Now, here she was again, her fiery gaze fixed on me. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words tangled in my throat, caught somewhere between surprise and guilt. What were the odds? In a city so vast and crowded with faces, fate had thrown us together once more. For a moment, all I could do was stand there, rain-soaked and at a loss as the downpour continued its relentless rhythm around us. Her gaze, unwavering, studied me through the open window, sharp and unforgiving. I couldn't help but wonder if she found the irony amusing or if my presence merely irritated her further. "What?" she finally snapped, shaking me from my daydreaming. "You're just going to stand there and stare?" "What are you doing here?" I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended, slicing through the soothing cadence of rain drumming on the cab's roof. Her lips curled into a wry smile, one eyebrow arching as she leaned closer. "Funny," she replied, her tone laced with dry amusement. "I was about to ask you the same thing." Her response caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless. The air between us buzzed with a palpable tension, charged with unspoken words. The rain filled the silence, its relentless patter drowning out the distant city noises. Locked in her gaze, I noticed something flicker-beyond the irritation, perhaps curiosity or a hint of recognition. Whatever it was, it peeled back layers I hadn't even realized I had, leaving me feeling strangely exposed, as though she could see beyond my soaked exterior and the defensive walls I usually kept high. I couldn't look away, drawn in by the intensity of our shared moment. Surely, she felt it too-the magnetic pull that blurred out the rest of the world. The seconds stretched, heavy and electric. Her lips parted as if she might speak, but the moment passed in silence. Finally, I broke it, my voice dropping to a softer, more genuine tone. "Look... about that night." Her expression shifted, her jaw tightening, the softness I thought I'd glimpsed abruptly fading. "What about it?" she asked, her voice even but wrapped in a veil of guardedness. I hesitated the memory of that night flooding back the blinding headlights, the screeching tyres, the filthy rainwater drenching her, and my thoughtless remarks. "I'm sorry," I said, the words heavier than I anticipated. They hung between us, raw and vulnerable. "I wasn't in a good place that night. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, and I definitely shouldn't have driven off without apologizing. It wasn't fair to you." For the first time, her expression softened, the hard edges of anger blurring into something gentler. Her lips parted, ready to respond, but she paused, her gaze drifting away from mine for the briefest moment. "Well," she said at last, her tone thoughtful, "at least you're admitting it now. That's... something." Her words were hesitant, but the shift in her demean