Jonah had never been a man who believed in destiny. He believed in decisions, consequences, business agreements, and the practical rules that governed ordinary life. If something went wrong, there was usually a reason. If something went right, it was generally the result of careful planning or a fortunate coincidence.
At least, that was what he had believed until Olivia X appeared beneath the magnolia tree.
Three days had passed since their first meeting, yet her face remained remarkably vivid in his memory. Her unusual green eyes, the mysterious smile, and the way she had spoken his name as though they had known each other for years. Sometimes he caught himself smiling for no apparent reason, only to realize that he was thinking about her again.
Friday was approaching.
He had promised himself that he would not become obsessed with a woman he barely knew. He had work to do, contracts to manage, and responsibilities that had not disappeared simply because a beautiful stranger had entered his life. Nevertheless, something inside him was changing.
On Thursday evening, while searching through an old book on his living room shelf, Jonah remembered the magnolia petals he had collected. He had placed them between the pages of a heavy, leather-bound volume, just as he had promised Olivia.
He carefully opened the book.
The petals were still there, delicate and almost impossibly beautiful. Their pink and white colors had not faded as much as he expected. He touched one of them with his fingertip and suddenly remembered something Olivia had said.
These petals are love.
He shook his head and laughed quietly.
"Love? You don't even know me, Olivia."
Then something unusual happened.
A small piece of paper slipped from between the pages and fell onto the carpet.
Jonah bent down to pick it up. It was not part of the book. It was a narrow strip of pale paper, folded twice, with something written on it in elegant handwriting.
He unfolded it.
There were only seven words.
Do not ask me where we first met.
Jonah stared at the sentence.
He turned the paper over, expecting to find a name, an address, or perhaps some explanation. There was nothing.
He examined the book again. He had owned it for years. It had been a gift from an old business associate, and he had never discovered anything unusual inside it.
But the note had not been there before.
He was certain of that.
For several minutes, he remained seated on the carpet, holding the paper between his fingers. Eventually, he placed it on the coffee table and reached for his telephone.
He considered calling the unknown number that had contacted him earlier in the week. Perhaps it belonged to Olivia. Perhaps she had somehow found his number and was trying to communicate with him.
He checked the message history.
There was no text, only the missed call.
Jonah hesitated before pressing the number.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Then someone answered.
"Hello?"
The voice was female.
Jonah immediately straightened his back.
"Olivia?"
There was a brief silence.
"No, Jonah. But I was expecting your call."
His heart began beating faster.
"Who is this?"
"My name is Eleanor. I think we should talk."
"How do you know my name?"
Another silence followed. This time it seemed deliberate.
"Because Olivia has been talking about you for a very long time."
Jonah closed his eyes.
He had heard enough mysterious statements for one week.
"Listen, I don't know who you are, but if this is some kind of joke—"
"It isn't a joke. And I would strongly advise you not to mention this conversation to Olivia."
"Why?"
"Because she doesn't know that I have found you."
Before Jonah could ask another question, the call ended.
He slowly lowered his telephone.
Outside, the evening light was disappearing behind the neighboring houses. The living room suddenly seemed colder than before.
He looked at the paper on the coffee table.
Do not ask me where we first met.
For the first time since meeting Olivia, Jonah felt something other than curiosity.
He felt afraid.
The following afternoon arrived with unusually clear skies. Jonah finished his work earlier than expected and returned home to change his clothes. He chose a simple dark jacket, a clean shirt, and comfortable shoes.
At four thirty, he left his house.
He told himself that he was going to see Olivia because he wanted to know her better. He was not going because of Eleanor's strange telephone call. He was not going because of the mysterious note.
He simply wanted to see her.
Yet, as he approached Anex Park, he found himself looking over his shoulder more than once.
The park was busier than it had been during their first meeting. Children were playing near the walking paths, elderly couples were sitting on benches, and cyclists were passing along the river.
Jonah walked towards the magnolia.
And there she was.
Olivia stood beneath the flowering branches, wearing another blue dress. Her dark hair was arranged in the same elegant style, and her green eyes seemed to brighten when she noticed him.
"Jonah," she said softly.
He smiled.
"Olivia."
She stepped towards him and took his hands.
"I knew you would come."
"Did you?"
"Of course."
He studied her face.
"Then perhaps you can tell me something."
Her smile slowly disappeared.
"Something about what?"
"About you. About why you know my name. About why you speak as though we've known each other for years."
Olivia looked towards the river.
For a moment, she seemed to be listening to something that Jonah could not hear.
Then she turned back to him.
"Would you believe me if I told you that this isn't the first time we've stood beneath this tree?"
Jonah frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that there are moments in life when people meet more than once. Sometimes they simply forget."
"Forget what?"
"Each other."
A gentle breeze moved through the magnolia branches. Several petals drifted down between them.
Olivia picked one up.
"Tell me, Jonah. Have you ever dreamed about a woman you had never met, only to recognize her years later in a completely different place?"
He thought about the strange dream he had experienced in the hotel.
The distorted figure.
The changing eyes.
The magnolia.
"Yes," he answered quietly. "Recently."
Olivia looked at him with an expression he could not understand.
"Then perhaps it is beginning."
"What is beginning?"
She stepped closer.
"The part of our story that you were never supposed to remember."
Jonah felt a chill travel down his spine.
Before he could respond, a voice came from behind them.
"Olivia!"
The woman turned sharply.
A stranger was standing several meters away. She was perhaps in her late fifties, dressed in a long beige coat, with silver hair gathered behind her head. Her expression was stern, and she held a small black handbag in one hand.
Olivia's face changed immediately.
"Not now, Eleanor," she said.
Jonah froze.
Eleanor.
The woman who had called him the previous evening.
The stranger looked directly at him.
"So," she said, "this is Jonah."
Olivia released his hands.
"Please leave."
But Eleanor did not move.
Instead, she looked at Jonah and spoke in a calm, almost sorrowful voice.
"Has she told you yet what happened the last time you fell in love with her?"
Jonah turned towards Olivia.
Her green eyes were no longer smiling.
And beneath their feet, among the fallen petals of the magnolia, Jonah noticed something he had never seen before.
A small white flower had turned completely black.