The Quirkiest Love Story

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Shivering on the frosty bench, she pulled her thin coat tighter against the icy wind, her bare hands red and raw.

The neon display flickered above her:
Bus #47–Delayed.
Arriving in 3 minutes.

She sighed.

Meera had moved to this icy northern city just yesterday for a job. No one had warned her about the sudden snow bursts — this much, this wild. She regretted wearing an outfit meant for a mild winter drizzle.

Then, she saw him — rushing to the bus stop.

Sam.

She froze. Her pulse drummed in her ears, and heat rushed to her face, reminding her of his betrayal**!

Eight months… Eight months since she walked in on him and her best friend tangled in the sheets — her sheets — when she showed up early from a weekend trip. Yet the hurt of betrayal returned, like a migraine in the glare.

She looked away. But it was too late. He’d seen her.

He slowed, eyes narrowed, then he shrugged as she was clearly avoiding him.

The air was tense, the kind of silence that shatters with a single word. He reached into his coat for a cigarette — but just then, he saw the bus pulling in.

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They climbed aboard. The bus was almost full — only a row with two seats was empty.

“Go ahead, I’ll stand,” he offered.

She didn’t bother acknowledging him and headed straight for it.

He stood by the pole, but the driver, irritated by the storm and icy roads, barked from the front,

“No standing allowed! Take a seat or step off, sir!”

“Fantastic!” He threw his hands in the air and slid into the seat beside her.
They both stared out opposite windows.

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A few minutes passed in awkward silence. He couldn’t stand it anymore,

“How are you?”

She turned sharply, “Why do you care?”

He lifted his palms, backing down to keep the peace. But she continued,

“You really have the guts to talk like nothing happened?… after what I saw?”

His head tipped back slightly, eyebrows lifting.

“You saw? No, your highness — I saw. You were in the kitchen, laughing in lingerie… and he was buttoning his shirt.”

Her eyes widened.

“What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself? Or have you completely lost it, Sam?!”

His head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing, “Who’s Sam?”

“What do you mean, who’s Sam? That’s you — who else… Sam?”

“I’m Nathan. You remember me, don’t you, Ms. Rita?”

“Who’s Rita?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Wait — aren’t you Sam?”

“No! I’m Nathan. Here’s my card.” He pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to her.
She studied it for a moment.

His eyes narrowed, “Aren’t you Rita?”
She shook her head.

They stared at each other — then burst out laughing.

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“Maybe the universe,” she said through giggles, “wanted to play a cosmic joke.”

He nodded, “You look exactly like my ex. I’ve heard there are seven people in the world who look alike, but this… this is beyond anything I imagined.”

“Totally! I can’t believe we look exactly like each other’s exes — this is mind-boggling!”

The bus screeched to a halt. They both reached for the railing, and her hand landed on his. They both froze for a beat. She pulled it away slowly.

“That’s my stop,” he said, stepping off with a wink. “Bye, Ms. Almost-Ex.”

She watched him vanish into the snowfall.
Her smile lingered a little longer.

And then she noticed the card in her hand.
Nathan Reynolds Graphic Designer
(555) 019–4726

The smile returned to her lips.

Maybe the universe wasn’t done with its quirks.
Maybe… it was just getting started.