Over the next few weeks, Jasmine and Alex settled into an unspoken routine, meeting several times a week for dinners, walks, or simply to talk. Their connection deepened with each conversation, each lingering glance, each brush of hands.One evening, they found themselves in a quiet park, the sky painted in shades of pink and orange as the sun set. Jasmine sat on a bench, watching the colors shift, feeling a peace she hadn't known in years."Do you believe in fate?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Alex was quiet for a moment before answering. "I don't know. Part of me wants to believe that things happen for a reason. But then… I've seen too many things that don't make sense, that feel completely random and unfair."She nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. "I used to believe in fate. I thought that if I waited long enough, the right person would find me. But then I got older, and things didn't work out the way I thought they would."He looked at her, his gaze steady and warm. "Maybe we're not supposed to wait. Maybe we're supposed to find our own meaning, even if it doesn't make sense at first."As they sat in silence, she felt a surge of gratitude for him—for his presence, his honesty, his quiet strength. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how he had become the thing she looked forward to each day. But the words felt too big, too heavy, and she kept them to herself.