He didn't say anything then. Instead, he took his time to think over what she'd said and came to a simple conclusion.

She was the best thing that could've happened to him.

It was shallow of him that he'd liked her from the moment they met. It had only been for her beauty—those big brown eyes, the curly strands of hair falling in her face, and her dazzling smile that complimented every feature she had and made them into something even prettier—but now he realized there was more to her than that. When she opened up to him, as she'd just done when she was trying to convince him better times were ahead, her shyness was replaced by a bubbly and enthusiastic personality. The rest of the world didn't matter anymore in that moment and it was just the two of them; if he was honest, he hadn't even listened in detail to what she'd said, mesmerized by her.

But there was a voice inside his head telling him that this too would come to an end. Tomorrow morning, she'd be on a plane back to San Francisco and they'd never see each other again. He couldn't be falling in love—not right now, not with her.

But he had.

As the conversation slowly moved from one subject to another and he saw more and more of her, his heart swelled up and he began thinking about the possibility of them together. If there was no Miami or San Francisco and the world consisted of just the two of them, they'd go to a little cafe tomorrow morning, hold hands, have a good time. They would walk the streets, chat and laugh a lot and maybe shop a little more. He'd tell Talia all about Emily and how amazing she was; how she lighted up when she was talking about her little sisters, how she had a passion for singing and could rattle on about it for hours. Or how she never got tired when he was talking enthusiastically about his love for basketball and working out, or how she loved Italian just like him and how she was a cute eater—a little clumsy too, but she fixed it with her smile. He liked watching her eat, because the tension in her shoulders finally seemed to disappear and she was relaxed.

She truly seemed relaxed as they were sitting there in the restaurant and he wondered if she'd noticed the change too. Had he caused this peacefulness within her and did that mean this feeling he had was mutual?

With a quick glance at his watch, he saw it was 8 p.m. already—much too late for his liking. Every minute that passed was one too much. If only he could freeze time and spend a few more hours with her...

She'd told him that she'd leave at 9 in the morning so she could catch her plane in time. Just 13 more hours, he thought, and at the same time he wondered why it had to be like this.

Finally, after years of struggling and his world revolving around him and his sister, he found someone who was right for him and who encouraged him to do more, someone who seemed to like him too—and it wouldn't last longer than a day.

His biggest fear was that he would forget this day. After all, it was just one day of his life and in the big picture of life, it was nothing—just another day like all the others. Would he forget about it—would he forget her?

"Oh no!" Emily suddenly said, and those two words were enough to wake him up from his daydreams.

"What is it?" he asked, visibly shaken.

"We missed the sunset," she said, pointing out the window. He followed her finger and saw she was right: the sun was nowhere to be seen and wouldn't turn up again until tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow morning—the time she'd leave. It suddenly seemed even closer than it had before.

"I've never seen a sunset in Miami," she said, pouting.

His heartbeat that had sped up after the first exclaim from Emily calmed down again. It was just a sunset, not the end of the world. But he went along with her, pursing his lips. "I can't make the sun go up again," he said. "We can do other things though."

"Do you know anywhere we can go?" she asked him, one eyebrow raised. Now that the sun had gone under, her face was only lit by the candle on the table and the distant lights elsewhere in the restaurant, coloring her skin yellowy-orange. The colors fitted the personality of hers he'd gotten to see in the past hour, warm and bright.

While thinking of places to go, he answered, "We can take a walk on the beach. The shops are probably all closed and I don't think we can still go to any popular tourist place at this hour, but the beach might be nice at night." If he was honest, he didn't know what to do with the last few hours they still had together. He'd never walked through the city as a tourist and even if he'd wanted to see the places Miami's known for, he didn't have the money nor the time for it, having to get food on the table and barely having any money left after having done grocery shopping.

"I'd like a walk on the beach," she said. The smile on her face told him the idea made her happy, even if walking wasn't her most favourite activity. She could enjoy the little things too—and it was another thing he liked about her.

They'd finished dinner already, so Emily went ahead and paid for it, even though he'd objected it wasn't necessary. She didn't believe a word he said anymore after the discussion they had about him losing his job for the umpteenth time. After that, they walked out the restaurant doors, welcomed by a soft and slightly colder breeze from when they'd walked in an hour before.

Emily sighed deeply and took in her surroundings once again. "I don't think I could ever get used to this," she said, admiring the view.

"Too bad you'll be gone in less than a day," he said. It was the only thing—besides her, of course—that was on his mind. Thirteen hours had become twelve very quick and the minutes kept passing. Time was merciless and they were victims. He didn't even want to think about the fact that they'd have to split up before then too, wasting their last hours on sleep.

"I can't believe these three days have gone by so fast," she said. She talked quietly and her eyes were dreamily, lost in her own thoughts. He wondered what she was thinking about. What was it that occupied her mind?

"They aren't over yet," he said, also trying to uplift his own mood. He had a hard time not thinking about tomorrow as well or what would happen after she left. What was he supposed to do then? He couldn't just pick up life where he'd left off—partly because he was fired and didn't have anything to spend his time on, but also because he needed her in his life.

She nodded absent-mindedly, but didn't talk. The silence said everything she never could.

*

Walking with his hands in his pockets, he was dreaming, losing himself in his own thoughts. He thought about her, and about him, and about Talia and what he would tell her when he got home. He was overthinking what had happened earlier that day, when he fell and had let the pie slip out of his hand. It was embarrassing in the moment, but now he was thankful it happened. If it hadn't, he wouldn't have met her or had the chance to guide her around.

With that, he was reminded of his duties once again. This wasn't a date, despite what it may look like to strangers—he was a guide and he was supposed to show her Miami, but instead they'd been walking in silence on the beach, looking up at the sky and enjoying the feeling this place gave them.

In an attempt to be a good guide, he said, "This is where you could take some good pictures for the 'gram, if you want to. Everyone knows the palm trees by now, but Miami by night is much better, in my opinion."

She looked up, admiring the stars and the nature he had described. It seemed to take minutes before she answered. "I'm not really a picture-person," she said.

Again, he felt this weird flutter in his stomach. He was the same, wanting to experience the moment instead of trying really hard to get the right shot. He felt a connection in this admirable trait of hers.

"That's because everything's more beautiful in person," he said. But before he even had the chance of finishing the sentence, he was interrupted just like he had been earlier that day at the beach, except this time it was her ringtone that denied him the chance of talking.

Sighing deeply and ignoring his comment, she took her phone out of her bag—the new one; she'd already taken her belongings out of the old one and had dumped the bag in a bin close to the restaurant, not wanting to see the fashion piece again—and took a look at the display. It resulted in another sigh. "I'm sorry," she said, "I kind of have to take this." The look on her face told him she wasn't happy about it either.

He smiled apologetically. "That's okay."

She let her bag glide down her arm and put it down in the sand, before she lifted the phone up to her ear. "Hi," she said, her tone formal and cold. "It's me."

The voice on the other side was very loud and he could almost hear every word being said.

"Where are you, Emily?" It was clearly a woman's voice.

She rolled her eyes. "I told you, I'm in Miami. You asked me the same thing yesterday."
"And I told you to take the plane back home!"

Emily's voice became quieter, as if she suddenly became very aware of River listening in. "I don't want to," she said. "I need this, mom."

It was her mother? That piqued River's interest; she'd never said a word about her mother before, neither good or bad. Actually, he'd never even realized she had one—which was very stupid thinking about it; everyone has a mother. However, the fact that Emily didn't talk much about her while she did talk about her twin sisters often was interesting.

"I'm coming back tomorrow," she continued. He couldn't hear her mother's response this time. "We can talk then."

There was no answer. Instead, a soft click sounded before Emily let her hand with her phone fall to her side again. The conversation had ended as quick as it had started.

* * *