The car in front of me suddenly braked, forcing me to slam mine. "Damn it!" I cursed under my breath, my patience thinning. My father was unwell at home, and I needed to get back to him as soon as possible.
"What's going on now?" I muttered irritably, pressing the horn. The blaring sound echoed through the street, but the car ahead didn't move. My gaze dropped to my wristwatch, almost six p.m.
"Goddammit. Move already!" I shouted, frustration boiling in my chest. My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, then to the window beside me. That's when I saw him.
A young man sat at the corner of the street, strumming a guitar and singing.
He looked… breathtaking. Naturally blonde hair catching the soft orange of the evening light, a face that seemed both innocent and soulful. I couldn't help but stare. People passing by paused to listen, some dropping loose change into the cap before him.
I rolled down my window. The cool evening breeze kissed my skin, and his voice reached me, clear, rich, and filled with emotion.
Was that an original song? I wondered, captivated. It sounded too raw, too heartfelt to be a cover. His voice carried something that tugged at me in places I didn't know could ache.
He sang from the bottom of his heart, and every note made mine flutter.
Then, suddenly—
BEEP!
The sharp blare from behind jolted me back. The car ahead had already driven off. Now I was the one holding up traffic.
I sighed, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel. Because of that boy. That stranger. The one who sang like his soul was made of sound itself.
Was it possible… I'd just fallen in love at first sight?
I'd never believed in that nonsense before, but right now, I wasn't so sure. I had a sick father waiting, a stack of files for tomorrow's investment meeting, a Zoom conference at eight, and another at noon tomorrow. Yet, despite all that,
I pulled over.
I parked my car to the side and sat there… just to listen to him.
An hour passed before he finally wrapped up his song. I watched him bow politely to his small audience, laughing humbly when a few people patted his shoulder.
He had no idea someone was watching him, someone who'd just become his quiet fan.
I saw him sling his guitar over his back, pick up the coins from the ground, and disappear down the corner of the street. My chest felt strangely hollow as he walked out of sight.
How could someone I didn't even know make me feel this way?
I quickly texted Lady Ortega, our longtime housekeeper who'd been with our family for over twenty years, to check on my father.
"Please make sure Dad takes his medications. I'll be home soon."
She read it immediately. I exhaled, rolling the window back up before starting the car again. The entire drive home to our country estate, our sprawling ranch that had stood for generations, I couldn't stop thinking about that boy.
That song. That feeling.
When I got home, the first thing I noticed was my father, standing.
That was unusual. Dad was usually in bed by eight. "Dad?" I hurried over and kissed his cheek. "You're up! You look so much better. Are you feeling okay?"
He nodded, his wrinkled hands warm as he took mine. "I took my medication before Ortega even came. Don't worry about me. I might be a little sick—" he gestured with two fingers, smiling faintly, "—but I can still take care of myself."
Relief washed over me. "That's perfect, Dad. You don't know how happy I am to see you standing. I'm literally the happiest girl in the world right now."
He touched my cheek with a soft, fatherly smile. "You always remind me of your mother. You have her face, her spirit."
My chest tightened. He missed her, he always did. And I knew why. They'd been soulmates, partners in every sense of the word. Even after she died ten years ago, he never remarried. His love for her was unshakeable.
I pressed his hand against my cheek.
"One day," he said softly, "you'll have a husband who loves you and gives you the world. You'll live happily ever after with him and your children."
I laughed. "Dad, I'm twenty-eight. But sure, I hope so too. For now, though, you're stuck with me. I want to spend more time with you."
He smiled, pulling me into his arms. I hugged him tightly, inhaling the faint, familiar scent of him that felt like home.
"I love you, Dad. So much."
Then it slipped out, before I could stop myself.
"And… I think I may have found someone who could be in my future."
His brows lifted. "Really? Tell me about him."
I blushed, suddenly feeling like a little girl again, caught sneaking cookies from the jar.
"He's… cute. Charming. And he sings beautifully," I confessed, unable to hide my grin.
Dad chuckled, crossing his arms. "Where did you meet him? Is he one of our investors?"
I shook my head quickly. "No, Dad. I saw him today—on the street, playing guitar."
He studied me, eyes twinkling. "I can see it in your eyes. You like him already."
"Maybe," I said softly, my heart racing at just the thought of that mysterious boy.
Dad nodded. "Then I want to meet him. Bring him over sometime."
I smiled, but didn't dare tell him I hadn't even spoken to the guy yet. That I didn't even know his name.
Changing the topic, he asked, "How was work today? You were late."
I straightened up, forcing a professional tone. "Great, actually. The investors transferred the funds. We're scaling up production and finalizing new refinery deals. It's going to push us to a billion-dollar valuation soon."
Dad beamed with pride. "That's my girl. Now, go shower. We'll have dinner together."
As I headed toward my room, I couldn't help but smile. The memory of that boy lingered in my mind like a haunting melody.