"When The Rain Chose Us"
The rain started the day I met Ethan Carter.
It wasn't the gentle kind. It was wild, loud, and fearless — just like him.
I was standing at the old bus stop near Maple Street, holding my books close to my chest, trying to protect them from the storm. My hair was soaked, my white sneakers ruined. That's when a black umbrella appeared above my head.
"Planning to drown out here?" a deep voice asked.
I looked up.
Dark brown eyes. A lazy smile. A stranger who somehow felt familiar.
"I'm fine," I replied softly.
"Clearly," he said, glancing at my dripping clothes. "You look very dry."
Despite myself, I laughed.
That was our beginning.
Ethan was everything I wasn't. Confident. Reckless. Unafraid of the world.
I was careful. Quiet. Always thinking before feeling.
But love doesn't ask for permission.
It sneaks in.
We started meeting every afternoon after that rainy day. Sometimes at the coffee shop. Sometimes at the park bench near the lake. He would talk about his dreams — leaving the city, starting his own music studio. I would talk about mine — becoming a writer and escaping my small, ordinary life.
"You're not ordinary, Lily," he once told me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "You're the kind of girl people write songs about."
My heart betrayed me that day.
It chose him.
But love stories are never that simple.
One evening, Ethan didn't show up.
No message. No call.
The next day, I found out why.
He was leaving the city.
His father had decided. Another town. Another life. Immediately.
I ran to Maple Street in the pouring rain, hoping — foolishly — that he would be there.
And he was.
Standing under the same broken bus stop.
Waiting.
"For you," he said.
Rain mixed with tears as I hit his chest weakly. "You were going to leave without saying goodbye?"
"Never," he whispered, pulling me close. "Some people you meet by chance… but you keep by choice."
"Then choose me," I breathed.
"I already did."
He kissed me in the rain — soft at first, then like he was afraid time would steal me away.
Maybe it did.
Because sometimes love isn't about staying.
Sometimes it's about remembering.
And every time it rains… I remember the boy who shared his umbrella — and stole my heart