Eastwood has been my home for almost a decade now.

"Excuse me, sir. Can I ask where I can find this bookstore?"

The officer glanced at the newspaper clip I was holding and pointed me down the street. "Turn left then head straight until you've reached a commercial building. The bookstore is just beside it, you wouldn't miss it," he instructed. "But you might need to hurry though. It's almost three o'clock."

I nodded and muttered my thanks before almost running down the street he told me about.

Damn it, I'm late!

I know I should've gotten here sooner, but the traffic is always a pain in the neck during a time like this. It almost made me regret commuting, but then again if I brought my car with me, I'd be faced with the problem of parking space. Julie already warned me about it the last time she took a trip around the city area to purchase some supplies.

"Is he still here?" I huffed, clutching my shoulder bag as I reached the entrance of the bookstore.

"You need to fall in line, Miss. Also, please unseal your copy before having it signed by the author," a lady wearing a yellow shirt told me. I nodded and followed her instructions, not to mention that I also have something else I plan to give him.

In the distance, I saw some marshalls already handing out stubs and ushering people to a line.

A very long one.

In fact, this area of the large bookstore is packed with so many people that I could barely see what was happening ahead. As the line grew shorter and I walked closer to the front, I could feel my impatience getting the best of me. Why are my hands going cold? Oh, God. 'This is crazy,' I thought, smiling to myself as the memories came rushing in the closer I got to the front.

Why am I so nervous yet excited to finally see him again?

Ronan.

Just a few more people and it'll be my turn---

"We're sorry, everyone! We need to do a cut-off. Unfortunately, Mr. Ronan will no longer be signing any more copies this afternoon due to his busy schedule. Thank you for your time and support!"

I heard someone announce at the front. That instantly gained disappointed grunts and murmurs of complaints among the ones left in the line. My eyes widened when I heard several girls talking behind me.

"But this is the first time he's in Eastwood!"

"I know, right? Plus Mr. Ronan rarely does physical book signings nowadays."

"Well, I heard a rumor that he's secretly engaged to one of his editors. Maybe that's why he doesn't show up in public anymore."

That made me pause.

Honestly, I don't know how I should feel about that. For almost ten years waiting for his return, never have I ever taken a moment to consider how those years might've caused a rift between us. Indeed, I'm not the same person as I was ten years ago, so I don't expect Ronan to be either. It's selfish to assume he's still single too... Is he?

Deep down, I knew this day would come.

Regardless of how I feel or how different our paths may be, Ronan is Ronan. Given our history, it's quite ironic that this might be the first time I'll see his face. Since he became an author of a best-seller five years ago, I've avoided any media coverage and articles that might have his image. It may sound crazy, but after everything we've been through, I guess that seeing him in person is my paper crane. Something I've given up on over the years as I moved on with my life and established my career as a business owner.

But today, hearing news of his sudden visit here in Eastwood, I am determined to set that paper crane free.

I looked around, noticing how people were already leaving. I scanned the room, but nobody stood out. I know in my heart that I can recognize Ronan when I see him because my connection to the Library Ghost runs deeper than anything I've ever felt before.

Breathe in, breathe out.

I got this.

"I'm an old friend of Mr. Ronan," I approached one of the marshalls and handed him a box wrapped with a white ribbon and my pastry shop's logo in front. "Can you at least give this to him, please?"

To my relief, the marshall nodded and took the gift from me.

I smiled and started walking towards the aisles of books on the other side of the store.

.
.
.

"Mr. Ronan? An old friend of yours wanted me to give this to you."

I was about to leave the bookstore after signing a few more books and posing for selfies when I spotted the box one of the marshalls handed me. For some reason, everything else faded away. It was just me and that box. What is this feeling? Curiously, I inspected the logo in front and felt the tears forming in my eyes.

The logo is a paper crane.

EBONY'S SWEETS
Home of Eastwood's Best Cookies

I didn't need to open the box to know that it contained the same chocolate chip cookies she baked me years ago. I found myself smiling like an idiot, all the while letting the tears stain my cheeks as my heart ached for her once again.

How long has it been?

Are you living a good life?

Are you happier now?

Have you waited for me like how I've been waiting for you?

"Is she still here?"

"Umm, I think I saw her disappear in the book aisles, sir. But I don't know where she-"

"Hold these for me. You're forbidden to eat them. Thanks!" I handed the box to the marshall and ran away from the crowd that still looked confused by my reaction.

I don't care if I look like a lunatic running across bookstore.

I know exactly where to find her.

.
.
.

I underestimated the number of people browsing through the aisles. It turns out, the bookstore had a Holiday sale so a lot of bookworms are taking the opportunity before the upcoming yuletime season. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck, feeling cold with the air conditioner inside the store. As I was reading through the spines and running my fingers on them, I spotted a man running towards this section.

When I got a glimpse of those warm brown eyes, I almost cried in happiness.

It's him.

I couldn't believe it.

"R-Ronan..."

I left the book I was holding and met him halfway. In the middle of the maze of bookshelves and bodies searching for their next read, we must look like two lovers reunited at last. But none of that mattered when Ronan picked me up and spun me around like he did during the Ghost Festival. I laughed and held onto his shoulders, noticing that he was still in his semi-formal attire.

When my feet landed on the ground, I cleared my throat and blushed.

He looked more attractive than he did in my imagination.

Remembering that he might already be taken, I looked away like a high school girl who was just seeing her crush after the summer.

"S-So umm you've received the cookies?"

"I haven't tasted them yet but I know they're absolutely divine."

"How did you know I was in the classic literature section?"

He smiled. It was mesmerizing.

"I assume you were holding a copy of A Room With A View?"

He knows me too well.

I almost sighed in relief, noticing how he still held on to my hands like he worshipped them. I hate to ruin a moment, but I need to clarify some things first. But before I could even ask about the rumors, he leaned in and whispered.

"River told me it was a misunderstanding... that day at the Ghost Festival. I always knew my brother was a good person... Albeit a little too much to handle. But I'm glad maturity finally sprouted from his garden," Ronan laughed good-heartedly. "But no matter what the truth is, I doubt my feelings for you will change. I am but a foolish man with a wistful heart because to me," he gently squeezed my hands as if conveying words he kept in his drafts for so long. "You will forever be the muse of all of my prose and poetry, Ebony. I'm sorry it took me almost ten years to become someone worthy of you so..."

"Wait. Someone worthy of me?" I raised an eyebrow, amused. Oh, God. Is this the reason he left? "Oh, Ronan."

He blushed. "Yes."

My eyes widened at what he said. It felt like my chest was going to explode at any minute now as I clung to Ronan's hands in disbelief and adoration. How did I become so lucky to meet this man?

'Thank you.'

"So you're not engaged to an editor?"

He blinked, confused at first. "Ah, the rumors. Heavens, no! I've always been a lovesick puppy for the girl I've met at a public library here in Eastwood."

"And who could that girl be?" I played along.

"She's no longer a girl, it seems. She grew into a very admirable and confident woman," he replied while tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear before cupping the side of my face affectionately. "That's why I've dedicated all my novels to her."

"I know," I leaned into his touch. Ronan feels at home. "I've read your first manuscript by the way."

"Really? Look at you finally blooming into a bookworm! I'm proud." He chuckled, clearly referring to the nights I've complained about getting sleepy whenever I read novels in the past. "But does that mean I can't offer you my reading services anymore?"

"On the contrary, I would prefer if the writer himself reads the story to me."

"Hm? A bit demanding, my dear."

"And yet you'll do it for me without second thoughts."

"Indeed, I will. Always."

I felt like everything was falling into place. Before I could even stop myself, I pulled him in for a kiss. This felt different from our first kiss. Indeed, this kiss is unhurried. This kiss is at peace and unabashed. Ready and real. Very real. It felt like an eternity waiting for his return, and now that I'm finally with him without the complications of our lives and the shelter of the library, this all feels surreal. Like a dream I've once dreamt of in a distant past. We needed that time apart. And now, time stood still as I kissed Ronan. It felt like we were the only people in the bookstore. Just how it should be.

The moment we pulled away, Ronan pulled me into his embrace.

It reminded me of the warmth of fairy lights, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, cozy sheets nestled along the fortress of books, handwritten letters, and the paper cranes we've freed from his jar.

"Ebony... I love you," Ronan smiled. "Well, at least that's how a normal person would say it. But as a writer, I am allow me to confess in a way that bares my soul: I adore you in a way that feels endless, like how we stare out into the vast night sky only to be met with the realization that we cannot truly count the stars for they are beyond human perception. It's in the way my heart races when you're near, and how the world quiets down when I look into your eyes; how my body is lulled into a peaceful slumber upon hearing your voice. You are not just someone I am fond of-you're the part of me I never knew was missing. You've become the melody to my silence, the warmth to my cold, the ink to my pen. With you, I've found a person I didn't know would occupy a large space in the confines of my heart. And I can madly, desperately, and sincerely hope that you'll reside in it for as long as you need a shelter to shield you from the perils of reality." He kisses the back of my hand, "If given permission, I will truly be honored to be your knight, your poet, and your king in a little kingdom we'll call own."

I stared at him, my heart overjoyed.

"Mr. Ronan, if you keep this up, I believe I will be the subject of envy. You have a lot of admirers," I played along with a smile. "Is that truly what you want?"

"A romance story featuring the two of us? Yes."

"Isn't romance overrated?" I countered before replying, "I love you too, my Library Ghost turned romance writer." I buried my face in Ronan's shirt, inhaling the scent of typewriters and printed books and unwritten words I knew he'd let out one day so that the world would know his story. As for our story? Well, I have a feeling this is only the prologue to greater things we'll face together.

Maybe he's right.

Maybe romance isn't dead yet.

Because love has a peculiar way of meeting you in the oddest time and place---even when you least expect it to cross paths with you.

THE END.