The morning air was bright and cool. The sky was painted in soft pastel shades, and sunlight filtered through the leaves like warm lace. It was the kind of day that gently nudged people out of bed, coaxing them to smile for no reason at all.
Ever since he left, there was a quiet emptiness that followed her, not loud or dramatic—but lingering. Serena didn't talk about it much, but everyone in the group could sense that part of her was still somewhere else. Somewhere Christopher was.
Serena stood at the window, hugging her cup of warm milk tea. It had been a few days since Christopher left. Though they'd promised to stay in touch, she couldn't help but feel the quiet was a little too deep, the silences between messages a little too long.
Actually, "a few days" might sound short, but for Serena, every passing hour felt as heavy as a small stone pressing down on her chest. She remembered Christopher's gentle smile, the way he quietly cared for her, and even the warm hand-holding in the snow that day. Now, all of it was just an echo, a soft, sad melody faintly reverberating in the quiet room.
That was when a knock came on her door—light, then chaotic.
"Get ready, we're going out!" Lilie Smith's voice came through, cheerful as always.
Behind her, three other friends popped into view—Hanna Agnes, Olivia Esperanza, and Gabriel. All armed with tote bags, cameras, and an alarming level of energy for ten in the morning.
"We can't let you rot in your room just because someone flew off to another country," Olivia Esperanza teased.
At the mention of his name, her fingers paused briefly around her drink. She smiled, soft and distracted, like the memory had slipped through her grasp for a second.
Amidst the playful laughter of her friends, Serena tried to immerse herself in the cheerful atmosphere. But deep down, an invisible thread still held her back, towards a distant place. Every time she inadvertently heard a familiar melody, or caught sight of a figure that vaguely resembled him on the street, her heart would clench slightly. The longing wasn't loud, but it was persistent, like a drizzling rain.
"I wasn't rotting" Serena said, half-laughing.
"Okay, then you were... gently fermenting," Hanna Agnes added, making everyone burst into giggles.
With that, the day began.
They started at the city park, where a tiny amusement corner was set up for the seasonal festival. It wasn't fancy—just a cluster of nostalgic rides and food stalls—but it felt like a hidden piece of childhood come alive again.
First came the carousel. The painted horses, though chipped and faded in places, still sparkled under the sunlight. Serena clung to the pole of her horse, laughing as the ride spun in slow, dreamy circles.
Then, the group found themselves on a giant slide—yes, the kind meant for kids, but rules didn't apply when the goal was joy. They raced down one after another, tumbling into a heap at the bottom, laughing so hard their sides ached.
Matcha Latte came next! A small shop run by a high schooler with wild earrings and a passion for brewing had set up a booth. Each cup was topped with whipped cream shaped like clouds.
"This is dangerously good," Gabriel said between sips.
"Pretty sure the cream is 90% sugar," Lilie Smith added, but she kept drinking.
After a quick sugar fix at their favorite milk tea spot, the sky had already begun to shift into a dusky gold.
They walked through the flower lane after that. Rows of marigolds, cosmos, and baby's breath lined the stone path. Some people were taking pictures. Others sat on benches, sketching or simply watching the breeze carry petals across the path.
Everything slowed down there.
Serena, for the first time in days, felt her shoulders drop. A gentle kind of peace settled into her.
"This is nice," she murmured.
"Mhmm," Hanna Agnes nodded. "See? Told you it was better than sulking at home."
Just as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, painting the world with a golden hue, they stumbled upon a clearing tucked away at the edge of the park.
There stood a small tent. It was shaped like a dome and made of soft, flowing fabric in deep violet. A wooden sign out front read, "Tarot Readings – One Question Only."
Serena blinked. "...Was this here before?"
"Nope," said Olivia Esperanza, looking just as curious. "It's new. I think it was part of the evening activities."
"Shall we?" Lilie Smith grinned.
Before anyone could protest, she was already pulling the flap aside.
Inside, the scent of lavender and something faintly smoky greeted them. Candles flickered along the ground, and at the center sat a woman in a velvet shawl. Her eyes were lined with kohl, her lips painted a calm shade of plum.
She gestured toward the cushions before her. "Only one at a time."
The group exchanged looks.
"I vote Serena," Gabriel said, nudging her forward.
"Me? Why me???"
"Because your question's probably the most romantic" Hanna Agnes smirked.
Flustered but curious, Serena stepped forward and took a seat.
The woman shuffled the cards silently, her hands graceful and practiced. After a moment, she stopped and spread three cards in front of Serena.
"You may ask one question" the woman said softly.
Serena hesitated.
The question that came to her wasn't about the future, not exactly. It wasn't about whether she and Christopher would end up together. It was something simpler, something that had been resting quietly in her heart since the day he left.
"Is this... real?" she asked.
The woman looked at her, then flipped the first card.
The first card revealed a pair of hands reaching toward each other, fingers brushing but never quite touching. The Lovers—upright.
The card showed two figures standing across a river, reaching out, but a single step apart. The current between them shimmered—not turbulent, but strong enough to remind them: timing matters.
The fortune teller smiled gently.
"This is not just about romance."
"This card, in this position, speaks of connection. One that is genuine, even if uncertain"
" It is a sign of mutual recognition… and perhaps, unfinished fate."
Serena felt her heartbeat slow. The image felt too accurate, too close to the way her and Christopher's goodbye had hung in the air—both of them reaching, neither ready to let go, but knowing they had to.
The second card flipped.
A boat on calm waters under a twilight sky. The Six of Swords—upright.
"You are in a time of transition"
The woman said, voice low, almost like a lullaby.
"You've left something behind, but you haven't yet arrived at what's next."
"This is a journey card. It encourages you to allow space—for reflection, for patience."
Serena's eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. Yeah. That felt right too.
And then came the third.
The card turned over slowly, like the final breath before a secret is spoken.
It was a moon, half in shadow, half glowing. The Moon card.
Upright..
The woman's fingers paused on the edge of the card, eyes briefly flickering up to meet Serena's.
"This.." she said quietly, "is a card of dreams and illusions. Of things not yet seen clearly."
"It warns of confusion but also promises that the truth is slowly unfolding. You must trust your instinct."
"Not everything will be logical. Some paths ask for faith, not reason."
The tent was silent for a moment..
Then the woman gathered the cards back with a practiced motion.
"That is your reading" she said gently. "No future is fixed, but the feeling you carry?"
"That's real! Even if the road ahead is misted."
Serena stepped out of the tent feeling both lighter and heavier. The sun had slipped below the horizon, and warm yellow lanterns had been strung across the trees. The air was tinged with the scent of popcorn and evening wind.
Her friends were waiting outside, sitting cross-legged on the grass, eating sweet potato fries.
"Mmm, you took forever" Lilie Smith said, tossing her a paper cup. "What'd she say?"
"Nothing concrete" Serena replied with a small smile. "But maybe that's okay."
Olivia Esperanza raised a brow. "Cryptic. I like it."
They lounged there under the string lights, talking about nothing and everything. The kind of conversations that only happen when people feel safe and time feels slow.
Later that night, after they'd all gone home and the city had tucked itself into silence, Serena lay on her bed, staring at the little paper the tarot reader had slipped her before she left.
Just one word written on it.
"Trust."
She didn't know what exactly it was pointing to—Christopher, herself, or something she hadn't yet discovered.
But she folded the note gently, placed it inside her journal, and let her thoughts drift as she closed her eyes.
And somewhere, in another time zone, under a different sky, Christopher looked down at his phone, fingers hovering over a message he'd typed but hadn't sent.
The screen of Christopher's phone remained lit, the message
" I miss you so much.." Hovering between sent and unsent. He knew that a simple text wouldn't be able to express everything that was weighing on his heart.
The longing wasn't just the sadness of separation but also worry, care, and even secret hopes for the future. He wanted to say so much more, but he was afraid of disrupting Serena's life, afraid that hasty words would shatter the current peace.
He read the last line again.
"I hope you're doing okay. I miss you more than I expected."
Then he deleted it.
Typed something simpler.
"Did you eat dinner?"
He stared at the screen.
But he didn't press send.
Not yet.