He Loved. He Left. He Ruled.

The whole room was leaning over the stranger when he had entered my life.

I noticed it instantly.

Everyone did.

The cafe was little--too little even to a man like him. We had a town hardly worthy of being mentioned on maps, the sort of place where nothing interesting ever happened. Individuals did not arrive here to come, but to disappear.

But he strolled in as though the place were his.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Slightly damp dark hair outside in the rain. His coat was costly--too costly by far too costly to wear in this town--his manner of bearing himself was even more noticeable. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

My hand was on my notebook and was frozen.

“Table for one?” I asked automatically.

He looked at me then.

And in my chest, some part went stumbling.

His eyes were dark. Not merely brown--something still deeper. As of tempests that stand behind calm water.

“Yes,” he said.

His voice was deep, flawless, and authoritative without being obtrusive.

I had to push myself, and brought him to the window bench.

“This one, okay?” I asked.

“It’s perfect.”

As soon as he sat down, the whole cafe turned into silent spectators. Mrs Bennett at the counter was lying on the stare of wiping a glass. Two college-girls were whispering in an excitable way close to the door.

Strangers did not come here.

Not like this.

I handed him a menu.

“What can I get you?”

“Coffee,” he said. Then, after a space, his eyes came up to mine. “And your name.”

That caught me off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Your name,” he repeated calmly. The waitress whom I serve deserves recognition.

My cheeks warmed slightly.

“Elena.”

I said, Elena, like trying to feel the sound of it, he repeated.

There was something in the way he said it that made my stomach revolt.

I cleared my throat. “Coffee. I’ll bring it.”

I turned away, and I could feel him looking at me.

Watching.

Not casually.

Intently.

I poured out the coffee, gently seeking to shut out the feeling of odd nervous excitement that was curling in my chest.

Get a grip, Elena.

He’s just a customer.

However, something seemed awkward.

On going back to his table, he had been very quietly reckoning up the room as though he were a surveyor of all the people in it.

I said you were not of here and put aside the coffee.

He looked back at me slowly.

“No.”

The response was straightforward and yet effective.

“Passing through?” I asked.

“Something like that.”

He picked up the cup and made a swallow.

His eyes now came back to me.

“You’ve lived here long?”

“My whole life.”

“And you like it?”

The question was almost a question of curiosity.

I shrugged.

“It’s quiet.”

“Too quiet,” he said.

“Maybe.”

There was a moment of silence between us.

Then he gave a peculiar question.

And do you ever get a feeling that you should be doing something more?

I blinked.

It was not regular cafe talk.

I have to pay rent, I said flippantly.

His lips were faintly smiling.

You are destined to do better than that.

His confidence unsettled me.

“You don’t even know me.”

“No,” he said slowly.

“But I’d like to.”

The door to the cafe banged open just in time to give me a chance to answer.

There came a gaggle of noisy men falling over.

I felt my stomach sinking.

Of course.

Derek.

He spotted me immediately.

There you are! There you are! already reeking of cheap whiskey. “Ignoring my calls again?”

My shoulders tightened.

“Derek, I’m working.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

His gaze shifted towards the stranger at the table.

Then narrowed.

“Well, well. Now you are already flirting with the customers?

The cafe became disturbingly silent.

“Stop,” I whispered.

But Derek stepped closer.

You feel like you are superior to me now, huh?

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He banged his hand on the table, and the coffee cup shook.

You see, you have a new boyfriend, and perhaps he wants to pay off your debts.

My humiliation was burning my face.

“I told you I’d handle it.”

“When?” Derek snapped. The reason I owe people is that they are not patient.

The stranger finally spoke.

“How much?”

Both Derek and I looked at him.

Derek smirked.

“Mind your business.”

The stranger didn’t react.

He just put the question again.

“How much?”

Derek stood, looked at him, and evaluated him.

Then he laughed.

“Five thousand.”

The figure made my stomach turn.

The stranger had calmed down and withdrew his hand into his coat.

drew out a smooth black wallet.

And put a great pile of bills on the table.

“Take it,” he said.

The entire café went silent.

Derek blinked.

“You serious?”

“Yes.”

My heart started racing.

“Wait,” I said quickly. “You don’t have to—”

I know, I know, the stranger said to himself.

Derek took the money with his greedy hands and counted quickly.

“Well d*mn,” he laughed. “Guess rich boy likes you.”

He had crammed the money into his pocket.

Then leaned close to me.

“Try not to mess this one up, too.”

And that was the end of his and his friends’ stay in the cafe as they went out in the rain and their laughter.

The consequent silence was stifling.

I turned slowly to the stranger.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

Now he can never leave me alone.

The stranger looked at me attentively.

“No,” he said.

“He will.”

There was something about the surety in his voice that made my heart leap.

I crossed my arms.

“You don’t know Derek.”

“No,” he said again.

“But I know men like him.”

I hesitated.

“Why would you help me?”

He sat up a little, examining me in a manner that caused difficulty in breathing.

Our meeting tonight, he said, was no accident; that is the reason.

My stomach tightened.

“What does that mean?”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“It means,” he said,

“I’ve been looking for you.”

My heart skipped.

“Why?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer.

Then he put his hand into his coat and drew out something.

A photograph.

He slid it along the table.My fingers shook as I lifted it.The photograph was old.Worn.But the face was obvious.Mine.I gazed up at him, my words barely audible."How do you have this?"The stranger retained my stare.And eventually spoke the words that would change everything."Because of your life," he whispered gently."belongs to a world you were never supposed to discover."Outside, thunder echoed across the black sky.And all of a sudden, the tranquil life I had known began to crumble.

I must not have shut down the café when he was still in the building.

But I did.

The rain upon the outside had increased, and patted the windows impatiently as on the fingers of a child. The remaining customers had gone out one by one till the cafe was all quiet, and the only sound was the dull whirr of the light bulbs and the stranger at the corner table.

The picture he presented to me was still smouldering in my mind.

My photograph.

I cleaned the counter slowly and did not want to stare at him.

You are looking in the same direction, he told you.

I stopped.

“I’m cleaning.”

You ended up cleaning ten minutes ago.

My face warmed slightly.

He noticed too much.

I turned toward him. You have not yet told me the reason why you possess that photo.

Instead, he sat back in his chair and looked at me the way one l