I was racing against time and just when I wished for a miracle to happen, everything stood still—literally. The clock on the wall froze at 11:59, the hands refusing to move forward, as if time itself had taken pity on me.
Ten minutes earlier, I had been stuck in the worst traffic jam of my life, clutching the tiny velvet box in my coat pocket, my heart pounding louder than the honking horns around me. Emily’s flight to Tokyo was scheduled to take off at midnight, and I had promised myself I wouldn’t let her leave without telling her how I truly felt.
By some stroke of luck or fate I ditched the cab and ran, weaving through crowded streets and nearly slipping on the icy pavement of Terminal B. My lungs were burning, legs trembling, and hope quickly fading.
And then, the miracle.
A delayed boarding call echoed through the terminal, her flight pushed back by twenty precious minutes. I spotted her in line, just about to hand over her boarding pass. “Emily!” I shouted, breathless.
She turned, eyes wide in disbelief.
“I love you,” I managed to say.
Time started ticking again, and so did her smile. She dropped her bag and ran into my arms.
Miracles, it turns out, don’t always come with lightning. Sometimes, they’re just a few seconds… and a second chance.