The clock ticks on. Five minutes to go.
He thinks of calling her, but he figures if it has to be her, she’ll call herself.
So he goes and opens the refrigerator for the twentieth time that hour, pulls out a slice of cheese, heads back to his laptop and plays some music. There’s beats in the background now. Beats and vibrations. No words. He closes his eyes and breathes in deep, then lets out a long sigh.
It’s about time he met her. The one. Whomever she was.
There was no guarantee that the astrologer had been right. But three years back when he’d been told by the old man in orange robes the exact date and time he’d meet his soul-mate, he’d laughed it off.
He couldn’t tell why, it hardly seemed funny anymore.
Four minutes to go, and his phone vibrates with a message from her.
Hey I’m coming over. Getting pizza.
He’d been with her for over five years now. Of course she knew about the prediction. He smiled to himself. She’s making sure she’s with me at the time I’m supposed to meet my soul-mate.
“Maybe it’s the moment you realize I’m your soul-mate” she’d said, arguing against the astrologer’s prediction. “The orange dude didn’t say it’s the time you meet your soul-mate for the very first time!”
The orange dude did, actually, in so many words.
He finishes his slice of cheese and his phone beeps again.
Low battery. Three minutes to go.
He sets an alarm on his wrist watch for three minutes and just as he plugs in his phone to charge, he gets another message from her.
Almost there. Come downstairs.
He leaves his phone to charge, picks up the house keys and goes downstairs, his heart beating a little faster now. He did love her. Heck, he’d loved her for five years. Then why is he feeling uneasy? Almost as though he’s thinking he’ll meet someone new in the next two minutes, as ridiculous as that sounds.
He lands on the ground floor with one minute to go.
He sees her car approaching in the distance, waiting at the signal, and he lets out a bittersweet sigh.
So that’s that.
He’s walking out onto the road to greet her when a speeding car runs into him from the other side of the road and knocks him out cold. The girl driving it rushes out to gauge the damage, and as she holds his hand to check his pulse, his wristwatch alarm goes off. He looks into her eyes long and deep before he shuts his own forever.
As the hysterical girl from the approaching car at the signal accompanies her dead boyfriend into the ICU, the speeding lady orders Chinese in the hospital cafeteria. It comes with a fortune cookie that reads “Oftentimes, your soul-mate and life partner aren’t the same person.”
Later that night, the speeding lady’s husband pulls off his orange robes and casually asks her whom she killed today.