Amoret sat on the cement steps at the edge of the lake. She stared down at her knees as her eyes welled up with tears. Her breathing became heavy. She tried to choke back her emotions, but it was too late. Tears began to stream down her face, hot and fast. A whimper escaped her lips. 

“No,” she quietly implored to herself, but her mind didn’t listen. The tears kept coming, and her heart began to pound so hard she thought she might die.

“Stop crying,” an unfamiliar voice softly commanded. Amoret looked up as a man sat next to her on the steps. She wiped her face with her hands. Embarrassed, she asked, “Who? Who are you?” 

He grinned calmly, “My name is Caspian.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, black, leather notebook. He held it out to her, but Amoret only stared in confusion, still crying. Caspian gave a slight shrug and placed the notebook between them on the step. “Breathe, Amoret,” he said. She looked down at the notebook and let the air escape her lungs. 

“Good,” Caspian said encouragingly. Amoret tried to slink back, “Are you a ghost or something? How do you know my name?” He chuckled at the word, “No, I’m not a ghost, darlin’.” He pointed towards her, “And your name is on your name tag.”  She looked down at her shirt, relieved, and laughed. 

Amoret sniffed and wiped away a lone tear. Caspian’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry!” He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small packet of tissue. “So rude of me. Here,” he offered her the tissue. She kept her eyes steady on him as she took the tissue. 

As she wiped her face again, Caspain said, “Stop crying and write it down.” 

“Write what down?” Amoret asked. 

Caspian narrowed his eyes, “Exactly what happened and what you’re going to do about it.” 

Amoret’s heart fluttered at the words. They felt empowering, but she immediately snaped out of the spell. There was nothing special about the notebook. It was plain, no markings or designs on it. It looked brand new. She took a deep breath and tilted her head back to look at Caspian. “I don’t want to be rude or anything, but this is a very weird conversation, and I’m not the ‘Dear Diary’ type.” 

Caspian’s lips curled into a smirk. Unshaken by her words, he settled in, as she continued.

“I’m not somebody who sits around plotting revenge or whatever you think I need to do; and mainly you are a completely crazy stranger.” Amoret felt flustered and began to stand to leave.

“Hold on a second, darlin’,” he implored as he grabbed her hand.

“Stop calling me Darling,” Amoret yelled, as she yanked her hand away and stomped off. Caspian hurried behind her. “I’m sorry. Nobody’s plotting anything, dar… Sorry.  No one is plotting.” Amoret stopped and turned. 

“Then what’s the notebook for?” She questioned, her eyes narrowing. 

“Think of it as recreating.” Caspian smirked, handing the notebook to her.

“Recreating,” she echoed, accepting the notebook this time. “Ok, recreating what exactly?” 

“Your life,” he said proudly, bowing his head slightly. Amoret felt the breath leave her body. “OK. I gotta go. You’re crazy and I gotta go.” She scrambled away as fast as she could.

“He loves you, you know?” Caspian shouted at her, hoping to get her attention. It worked. She stopped dead in her tracks. A chill ran down her spine. She slowly turned around. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Caspian’s eyes softened. “Martin. I know about Martin, and he loves you.” Amoret’s eyes widened. “How do you know about Martin?!” 

She was filled with curiosity and slight rage, at how annoying Caspian was. “Are you some kind of stalker?” 

Caspian winced, “Ehhh. Stalker is a very harsh word,” he shrugged, as he slowly walked towards her. She took a step back. 

“Well, you’re very creepy.”

Caspian sighed, “Look, it doesn’t matter how I know about Martin, but I’ve been where you are. If you keep pushing away, he will let go. For good.”

They stared at one another in silence. Caspian took a step forward slowly. “You can change that,” he said, as he pointed to the notebook in her hand. 

Amoret’s heart felt like it would fly out her throat. She squeezed the notebook tightly. She shook her head, “I don’t care what you think you know,” she snarled, and tossed the notebook back to him.

Caspian accepted the defeat, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Fine. Fine. But we’ll meet again, Amoret.”

“Doubt it,” she yelled behind her.

Caspian watched Amoret get into her car and drive away, as a knowing smile creeped across his face.