Josie didn't go inside immediately.
She stood in front of the apartment building long enough for the streetlights to click on and the night air to cool against her skin. The paper bag Adrian gave her hung gently from her hand, warm enough that she knew the food inside was freshly packed.
He didn't just "pass by."
He didn't just "notice" she hadn't eaten.
There was more history between him and the original Josie than she understood.
And that scared her.
She finally pushed open the apartment door. Lila sat on the couch, legs tucked under her, scrolling through her phone with snacks spread around like a nest.
"You're back!" Lila chirped. "How was writing group?"
"It went… well," Josie said truthfully.
Lila looked up, eyes narrowing curiously. "You sound surprised."
"I guess I am."
Lila laughed. "You always complain that your writing sounds like a dictionary arguing with a poem." She squinted. "But you seem calmer today. Different."
There it was again.
That word — different.
"I'm just trying to do better," Josie muttered.
Lila nodded approvingly. "I like this version of you."
Josie inhaled sharply.
This version.
She excused herself to the bedroom. After closing the door behind her, she unpacked the food Adrian brought — a simple meal: stir-fried noodles, a boiled egg, and a small lemon tart. Nothing fancy. But everything inside the container was arranged neatly, almost thoughtfully.
Did Adrian cook this?
She hesitated, then took a bite of the noodles — warm, savory, comforting in a way that felt too personal. Like home.
She ate slowly, thinking through the fragments she had gathered.
The original Josie:
Worked at the café
Attended a writing group
Forgetful, maybe scatterbrained
Walked with "weight on her back," as Adrian said
Knew Adrian well enough to mention personal things
But she, the Josie from another life, was different. She carried different memories. Different scars. Different fears.
Was she allowed to change someone else's life so completely?
She wasn't sure.
After finishing dinner, she opened the notebook she wrote in earlier. The words she had written during the meeting stared back at her — raw, honest, painfully real.
She would continue writing, she decided. Even if her stories weren't perfect. Even if she still didn't fully fit into this world.
She clicked her pen.
One thought surfaced, uninvited:
Why did she transmigrate?
No answer came.
---
The next morning, Josie woke early, unsure if it was habit or anxiety. The lavender scent in the room felt softer today, less foreign. She dressed in a crisp white top and dark pants and tied her hair half-up — neat, simple, unfamiliar to this body but natural to her.
When she stepped into the kitchen, Lila gasped dramatically.
"Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?"
Josie laughed, a genuine sound she hadn't made in a while. "I'm just trying something new."
"Well, you look like someone who sleeps more than five hours," Lila teased. "Proud of you."
Josie finished her tea quickly and headed out for work.
---
At the café, the morning rush slammed into her like a storm. Customers lined up, impatient. A machine hissed angrily. Mr. Roland barked orders like a drill sergeant.
"Josie! Register!"
"Josie! Table three!"
"Josie! We're low on milk!"
She worked nonstop, barely catching a breath. But even in the chaos, she felt more grounded than yesterday. Her movements became smoother. She smiled at customers, even when they frowned. She didn't panic when the register jammed.
She was doing better.
And then he walked in.
Adrian.
Not dressed casually like yesterday — today he wore a charcoal button-up shirt, sleeves rolled slightly, a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He looked like someone who lived inside a magazine photo.
He nodded at her as he approached.
"Good morning."
Josie blinked. "Good morning."
He glanced at the register. "Busy day?"
"You could say that."
"You're handling it differently," he said quietly.
There. Again.
Josie forced a smile. "I'm just… trying."
Adrian's eyes softened, almost imperceptibly. "Good."
He placed an order — "One black coffee. Medium." — and stepped aside. While preparing it, Josie felt his presence like a steady warmth in the corner of her awareness. Not intrusive. Just… there.
She brought his coffee to the table.
He looked up from his sketchbook and paused.
"You changed your hair."
"Oh. Yes. I—wanted something simple."
"It suits you."
Josie nearly dropped the cup.
Adrian didn't smile. He simply returned to his drawing, but something about the softness in his tone lingered in the air.
She mustered courage. "Can I ask you something?"
He looked up again. "Anything."
Her breath stalled.
The word anything sounded heavy coming from him.
"Were you… close to the old me?" she asked.
It came out too direct, too vulnerable.
Adrian sat back, studying her with a seriousness that made her regret asking.
"For a while," he finally said. "We spoke often. Not about important things. But enough."
"Enough for what?"
"Enough," he said quietly, "for me to know when something in you shifts."
Her heart hammered.
He pushed his sketchbook slightly toward her side of the table, almost by instinct, before flipping it closed.
"Don't worry," he added. "I won't pry."
But he already had. Without meaning to. Without saying anything probing. Adrian didn't ask questions — he simply observed her until she wanted to explain herself.
She stepped back, mumbling, "I should get back to work."
He nodded. "I'll be here."
He said it like a promise.
---
The café grew louder, but Josie's mind stayed stuck on his words.
We spoke often.
Enough to notice shifts.
She wanted to know more. But she would have to learn slowly, piece by piece. Rushing might draw suspicion.
Near the end of her shift, Adrian stood to leave. As he passed the counter, he paused.
"Josie."
She looked up.
"Tonight," he said. "Don't walk home alone. Call me."
Josie stared. "I—why?"
"Because the construction path is dangerous."
He hesitated.
"And because I'd rather know you got home safely."
Her stomach twisted into a knot of warmth.
"I'll… keep that in mind," she whispered.
He nodded once and walked out, the café door chiming softly behind him.
Josie exhaled shakily.
The original Josie might've told Adrian parts of her heart.
But this new Josie — the one she was now — didn't know how to handle someone who watched her so closely yet so gently.
However…
A small smile tugged her lips.
Maybe she didn't have to learn everything at once.