Long before James had the courage to say more than a few words to Mia, she had already saved him. Not once, but multiple times. The world didn't know it. She didn't know it. But James did.
It started during a dark period in his life, when the weight of everything seemed unbearable. He was burnt out, disillusioned, and sinking into a quiet depression that had no face, no name. He showed up to work at the hospital like a machine, smiling where necessary, keeping his head down, drifting through days in autopilot. Nights were the hardest. That was when the silence would scream the loudest.
One particularly cold evening, as he sat slouched in his small apartment staring blankly at the ceiling, James opened Instagram, more out of habit than interest. His thumb scrolled lazily until it paused on a familiar face. Mia had posted something new.
It wasn't a selfie, nor was it one of her usual photos from the gym or the beach. It was a black square with a simple caption:
"Three years ago, I thought I wouldn't make it through the year. Depression almost swallowed me whole. I didn't want to go through another day. I wanted to end things, but it felt like I always had no choice in life. Depression is a kind of hell that you don't wish for anyone to experience, not even your enemies. But somehow, with the help of therapy, family, and a whole lot of faith, I kept going. You can too. You are not alone."
James stared at the words, stunned. Something in his chest cracked open.
He had never heard her talk about mental health before. She had always seemed so radiant, untouchable. But here she was, vulnerable, real. A person who had also fallen into the same pit he was in now—and who had clawed her way back out.
He reread the post a dozen times. Then he opened Google, searched for local therapists, and booked his first appointment.
He wanted to reach out, to message her, to thank her for being that unexpected lifeline. But he didn't. Instead, he got to work. He began journaling, exercising with more intention, eating better. He cut down on drinking, began showing up to life again, little by little.
Mia had no idea, but that one post had saved him from himself. And though he was sad he couldn't be there for her when she had struggled, that sadness only deepened his love for her.
Another time, James heard a story that melted him from the inside out. It happened at the hospital. One of the nurses was chatting during break and mentioned a young woman who had helped her grandmother during a tough evening visit.
"She was visiting someone, I think, but when she saw my grandma struggling with the vending machine and her walker, she stepped in without hesitation. Sat with her for almost an hour, helped her find the right room, even bought her water."
James perked up. "Do you know who it was?"
"Mmm, pretty girl. Soft voice. Long hair. I think her name was Mia?"
James' stomach did a little somersault. He already knew the answer.
Of course it was her.
He didn't even try to hide the little smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He had always known she was kind, but hearing it from others made it feel even more real. Mia's goodness wasn't performative. It wasn't curated for social media. It was in the quiet, hidden things. In moments when no one was watching. And that made James fall harder.
A week later, another gathering came together at the usual café after a group gym session. James walked in and spotted Mia at the corner table, already laughing with one of the girls. His heart picked up pace.
Every time they were together, it felt like the universe was giving him a small window. Another chance to get a little closer. Another evening where the world aligned just enough to place them in the same orbit.
He sat next to her when a seat opened up, and they chatted about the gym, books, and music. Mia was warm, animated, and so alive that James found himself smiling the entire time.
There was a moment—a brief, stolen second—when their knees touched beneath the table. Mia didn't move away. Neither did he.
To anyone else, it would mean nothing. But to James, it was everything.
When the conversation turned to weekend plans, one of the gym friends suggested a quick wellness getaway.
"We could do yoga, some nature hikes, maybe even a digital detox? There's this resort town just two hours away."
"I'm in," someone chimed in.
Mia turned to James. "You should come too. You're always up for something healthy, right?"
He laughed nervously, but nodded. "Yeah, sounds good."
Inside, his heart was racing. This was it. His chance.
A weekend away meant more time with Mia. More conversations. More shared space. Opportunities to build the kind of connection he'd longed for.
For a long time, James had believed he needed to make some grand gesture to win her over. But now, he realized it was the quiet moments that would get her to truly see him. The shared coffees, the way he remembered the little things she said, how he showed up without trying too hard.
That night, back in his apartment, James knelt before the shrine again.
The photos shimmered in the soft candlelight. Her eyes followed him from every angle. But this time, he didn't feel desperate or distant. This time, he felt hopeful.
"You saved me before, Mia," he whispered.
"And now... I think you're going to help me find my way to you, too."
In the dim glow of his secret sanctuary, James made a silent vow:
He would use this weekend to get closer. To connect.
And maybe - just maybe - she would finally see him the way he saw her.
Not just as another face in the gym or a follower online.
But as the one who had been there all along.