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Logan's eyes caught mine over the rim of his cup. "How is it?"
“It tastes like freedom," I replied, putting the cup down to savor the moment.
Logan reached across the table, his fingers weaving together with mine. "You know, I got into the habit of ordering two lattes even when you were away."
"You did?" I felt a sentimental tug in my chest.
"Yeah. I'd sit here, sipping both, feeling like a part of you was still with me. It was silly, but—"
"—But wonderful,” I finished for him.
Then, a comment—one of those flippant remarks that you'd typically brush off—set us off into a philosophical spiral about the nature of love, our love.
"You know, I've been thinking a lot about what this—all of this between us—actually means," Logan began, gesturing with his coffee cup.
"In what sense?" I put my cup down, my attention solely on him.
"In the sense that love's supposed to be this tangible thing, right? People marry, live together, and grow old. But us, we're—"
"—Not conventional," I picked an appropriate word.
"Exactly. I mean, you were a ghost, and I was...well, still very much alive. Now you're here, solid and real. It's like we're rewriting the playbook on love."
"Who says love has to follow a playbook?" I leaned in closer. "What we have, it's real, isn't it? Real enough to cross realms and break some cosmic rules."
Logan looked down at his hands and then back up at me. "I love that about us. Our love doesn't have boundaries. It's bigger than flesh and bone. Bigger than life and death."
I felt a thrill run up my spine like I'd touched a live wire. "It's like we're each other's once-in-a-lifetime love."
"Or once in two lifetimes," Logan chuckled.
I laughed. "Well, whatever it is, it's extraordinary. Don't you think?"
"Extraordinary doesn't even begin to cover it," he whispered.
As we strolled back to the apartment, I stopped and picked a flower from a sidewalk garden. "Check this out," I said, holding it out away from me. I willed it to bloom fully, petals unfurling to their best and brightest.
"You're magic," Logan whispered as if he just realized it.
We returned to the apartment late in the day and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. It was the place it all began.
“Look at us," I breathed.
"Looking," he said, pulling me closer.
“You were skeptical at first,” I mentioned.
“Who wouldn’t be when they find a handsome stranger in their bathroom mirror?”
Standing there, face-to-face in the flesh, I was struck by how far we'd come. From a stranger in the mirror to the love of my life—it was quite a journey.
Logan turned to me, eyes shining. "What are you thinking about?"
"How lucky I am," I said. "To have this. To have you."
He smiled, pulling me against him. Our reflections overlapped in the mirror as our lips met. The kiss tasted like a homecoming.
We eventually made our way to the living room and curled up together on the couch. Logan rested his head on my chest while I combed my fingers through his hair.
