Just a Random Person

Sometimes, people appear out of nowhere, linger by our side for just a fleeting moment, and yet in that short time they manage to change something within us, something in our lives. Forever. Rocking one leg draped over the knee of the other, I took a sip of cooling coffee and shifted my gaze to Aimo. He was already dressed in jeans and a dark brown sweater, his chestnut hair, as usual, slightly tousled at the crown—careless, and a little endearing. “Love, I’m off,” he said, coming closer, and, leaning down, kissed the corner of my lips. “See you tonight.” Warm affection sparkled in his gray eyes. “Have a good day,” I replied with a light smile. “You too. Already miss you!” Aimo glanced back over his shoulder, waved, and disappeared down the hallway. “And I miss you,” I whispered. The familiar rustle followed: jacket, shoes… Draining the coffee in one gulp, I set the mug down on the table with a quiet thud—the white one with the blue pattern I had fancied in a store, the one Aimo brought home the next day along with my favorite chocolate. He was always attentive to little things, always looking for ways to make me smile for no reason. I usually answered in kind. “Bye!” my husband called from the hallway. “Bye-bye!” The front door clicked shut. And suddenly the whole apartment filled with silence. Sunlight, slipping past massive white clouds, poured into the kitchen and bathed it in a soft glow. September had turned out warm again this year. Leaning back against the chair, I let out a weary sigh. My chest was tight, an ache pressing from the inside. I wanted to cry. Self-hatred, profound sadness, and regret blended into a cocktail of unbearable feelings, churning somewhere deep in my solar plexus. Memories from three years ago crept back in again, unwelcome and persistent, and I longed to slap myself just to drive them away once and for all. Why did I still remember? Why did it still matter so much? Perhaps that was the power of self-suggestion—and foolish romanticizing. Sniffling noisily, I exhaled and rose to wash the mug. There wasn’t much time left before meeting Ellis; I shouldn’t keep my friend waiting. The water splashed. My hand jerked awkwardly, and a clattering scrape rang out. I looked at the mug. A piece had broken off the rim, leaving a sharp chip. How had I even managed to hit it against the tap? Aimo would be more upset than me… For a moment I thought of buying a new one and saying nothing… But no. I couldn’t lie to him. Turning off the water, I pressed the mug to my chest, as if trying to hold it whole, then set it down. The chip was big, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. I took a step toward the bathroom. Another step. Inside, everything tore apart. My strength suddenly drained away, as though something had sucked it out of me, and collapsing to the floor, I pressed my back against the kitchen cabinet, hugged my knees, and cried soundlessly. My body shook, tears streamed down my cheeks in rivers, but the pain inside refused to ease. That calm, profound look in dark-green eyes. That enchanting soft smile with dimples on slightly hollow cheeks. The strong jaw, the wide cheekbones. The smooth motion when he brushed back golden-blond hair with his fingers. Three years had passed. Three years. And still I remembered how I noticed him and suddenly froze in place. How my gaze locked first on his masculine, striking face, then slid down to his lean, strong body, clad so perfectly in black jeans and a loose black jacket. Then he adjusted his hair as he walked by, and my head turned to follow him. A new wave of self-loathing crashed over me. How could I even think of another man while married? Married to a wonderful man with a beautiful soul, who loved me with all his heart. I loved Aimo. I was ready to do so much for him. He was truly close to me, my kindred spirit. With him, life felt easy; with him, I could be myself—any version of myself—and still be wholly accepted. Aimo told silly jokes, he was well-educated, full of knowledge, always fascinating to talk to. He was reliable, deeply kind. Aimo was a wonderful husband, and without doubt would one day be a wonderful, truly perfect father. I loved Aimo. But with a different kind of love… A love for a person, for a friend… but not for a husband. Gasping for air, I tried to calm down. But in my mind, scenes with Antti kept surfacing. For the first time in my life, I had cast aside shyness, awkwardness, insecurity—I forgot all rules and prejudices. Spinning around abruptly, I hurried after him and caught up with him by the elevator. “Hey, excuse me?” I said, my throat suddenly dry with nerves. The young man didn’t realize right away I was speaking to him; he turned his gaze to me after a couple of seconds. “Mh?” The moment our eyes met, something inside me cracked. And as it turned out—forever. Fireworks erupted in my chest, then collapsed into a vast, endless void, immediately filled by a warm, raging sea. My heart raced three times faster, my breath caught, and for some reason I felt an irresistible urge to smile. I drowned in his gaze. That depth, that calm warmth… In those muted emerald eyes lay a whole ocean. “Hi,” I repeated. “Sorry to bother you…” A silly, embarrassed-happy smile spread across my face anyway. “I just wanted to tell you… I had to tell you—that you’re very handsome.” For a fleeting second, I thought this incredibly attractive guy was somewhat arrogant—with looks like his, no wonder. But my words drew a flash of surprise and awkwardness across his face, instantly erasing the seriousness and composure I had mistaken for confidence. “Thank you… That’s very unexpected,” he replied. “And your eyes are so beautiful,” slipped from my lips before I could stop it. Then I giggled shyly. “Oh, sorry, I… you really are very handsome.” “Thanks…” His thick brows furrowed slightly, but his gaze remained open, gentle. The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside to ride up to the ferry deck. “Can I ask your name? Don’t think I’m trying to hit on you or anything! I’m just curious.” “Antti.” “Antti? I’m Autumn. Nice to meet you.” “Likewise.” “You’re from Finland, right?” “Yes. And you?” “Not yet, but I plan to move there someday. It’s my dream.” The elevator stopped, doors slid open, and we stepped into the corridor. “Thanks again for the compliments… That was unexpected. But nice,” said Antti. Even his voice had a beautiful timbre. “Have a good trip, and good luck with your move.” “Thanks, have a great day!” We parted ways. But it felt as though a thread had been tied to my heart, its other end held by Antti—and I simply couldn’t walk away. It wasn’t about looks anymore. He wasn’t the first handsome guy I had ever seen, nor would he be the last. But never before had I feltthis. It even reminded me of a book I once read long ago, about people meeting their “other halves” and feeling something extraordinary in that very moment. All my life I had dreamed of meeting a soulmate. I believed in true love, though I never said it aloud—it sounded too naive. I longed to meet that one special person. But I had never felt it… There had been crushes, infatuations, attempts at relationships—but never anything extraordinary. Until then. Even knowing it was wrong, foolish, naive, intrusive, I still turned and followed Antti. He sat at a table by a large window in the ferry’s lounge, with small cafés in the middle. The ferry vibrated lightly, still docked at the terminal. People trickled in, more and more, but plenty of seats remained. “Sorry, would you… mind if I sit with you?” I asked, approaching, clenching my free hand so tightly my nails dug into my palm. “Of course not,” he replied. And I exhaled. My lips stretched again into a smile. Setting my suitcase down, I sat opposite him. A light conversation began. Within five minutes, we were laughing together. Within five minutes, I no longer thought about how handsome he was—I had stopped noticing. The conversation had consumed me entirely. We had just met, just been introduced, and yet I felt completely comfortable, at ease—something so rare for me. It seemed as though we had known each other for years. Within ten minutes, deep inside, I was ready to marry him and follow him to the ends of the earth. The only thing I wanted in that moment was for our conversation never to end—for Antti to keep talking, smiling, and looking into my eyes. I loved listening to him. I loved talking with him. I wanted to know everything about him. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt completely safe. Peace and calm washed over me. This man seemed… close. Mine. And I liked everything about him. Neither before nor after Antti did I ever feel anything like that. Neither before nor after Antti did I ever speak so openly with anyone from the very first minutes of meeting. I had never been so… myself from the very start. “It was so unexpected, the way you complimented me,” Antti said again during our talk. “I couldn’t not say it,” I smiled, a little embarrassed. “You’re very handsome. And I try to voice good thoughts when I have them about people. It’s only fair.” “Thank you. You’re beautiful too.” He said it simply, sincerely, in almost a casual tone. It wasn’t flirting, nor playfulness. I melted. As if I had turned back into a schoolgirl at twenty-four, giggling and smiling, thanking him while falling apart inside. Compliments had never before affected me so powerfully. Surely he saw, surely he knew, that I had fallen in love—naively, at first sight, within the first half hour. And yet I wasn’t ashamed. His quietly spoken “you’re beautiful too” would echo in my memory many times afterward. Of all the compliments I’d ever received, his meant the most. While I melted and unraveled during our conversation, Antti, though friendly, remained slightly cool, a little distant. And soon after, he mentioned that he had a date with his girlfriend that evening. When the ferry docked, we went our separate ways and never saw each other again. A year later I met Aimo, and six months after that, I married him. And I did move to Finland—my beloved Helsinki. Life settled into place. At first glance, it seemed perfect. When I walked into the café, Ellis was already sitting at a table with a cup of coffee. After greeting her and exchanging a hug, I ordered a hazelnut hot chocolate and sat down across from her. Outside the window, green trams rolled by, cars bustled past, people walked—the city center was alive and humming. Our conversation began as it usually did, with the latest news and routine matters, but after a while Ellis fixed a thoughtful gaze on me. “Autumn?” “What?” I asked, tapping my nails lightly against the white cup. “What’s with your eyes?” “What do you mean?” “They look glassy. Have you… been crying again?” Her voice was gentle, but carried a quiet insistence. Ellis was the only one who knew that I still thought about Antti. That I loved my husband not as a husband, but as a dear friend and a wonderful man. That despite living what looked like a very happy life, I often cried when left alone. “I hate myself, Ellis,” I whispered, lowering my tear-fogged eyes. “I hate myself so much for what I’m doing to Aimo… Sometimes I just want to bang my head against a wall, just to forget, to erase Antti from my mind.” “Autumn, you don’t even know him…” “I know it.” “Maybe you just made it all up in your head?” “I’ve thought about that a thousand times. Maybe. But the fact remains—I’ve never felt what I felt with Antti. Not with Aimo. Not with anyone.” Ellis let out a heavy sigh. She finished her coffee, set the cup onto the saucer, and pushed it aside. I smoothed the crinkling candy wrapper between my fingers, trying to hold back the tears. “Very few people end up with someone where the love is truly mutual,” Ellis said at last. “Most couples live together without really loving one another. In the best case, one person does the loving.” “And you and Severi?” “We… yes, I love him and he loves me. But now, four years in, the butterflies are gone. The fireworks are gone. They disappear for everyone. But Aimo really is wonderful, isn’t he?” “Yes,” I nodded. “Wonderful. A very good man.” “He loves you.” I nodded again, a lump tightening in my throat. “And you love him. Maybe not in the same way, but you do, don’t you?” “I do…” The words slipped out in a whisper. “You feel calm with him, you laugh with him, he’s interesting. You’re happy with him. Right?” “Yes.” “Then maybe it’s not so bad?” Ellis smiled faintly, peering into my eyes. “You’re with a good man, you both love each other—however it looks. You’re comfortable together. Maybe that’s enough? With Antti, those feelings would have faded too, after three years.” A heavy sigh tore from my chest. “You’re right. It’s just… I’ve always believed in true love, in a soulmate. And I thought I would find it. Then I met Antti, and it felt like—that was it.” “Maybe it only seemed that way?” “Maybe… But you said with Antti it would have faded in three years too. Except with him, it was there right away. With Aimo, it never was. With no one, it ever was.” Ellis sighed again. “And besides…” My voice trembled, and I quickly wiped away a tear slipping down my cheek. “Aimo deserves to be loved. Truly loved. Maybe it would be more honest to leave him?” “He loves you so much. I doubt he’d want to end things,” Ellis replied seriously. “You’d only hurt him. And there’s no guarantee he’d find someone who loves him the way you say you want him to be loved. And no guarantee you’d ever meet another ‘Antti.’ Maybe you just need to let go of this fantasy Prince Charming and try to love the man who’s right beside you. There’s no telling—you might have been disappointed in Antti, had you really known him. What if he kicks kittens? But Aimo—you know he’s good.” “I’ve tried,” I mouthed silently. “But I’ll try again. You’re right.” We talked for another couple of hours before parting ways. And I did feel lighter. That silly, irrational, naive longing eased, and tenderness for Aimo bloomed in its place. He really was wonderful. Wanting to show it, I cooked his favorite dinner that evening, and decided to meet him after work so we could stop by the store together. Pushing the cart forward with one hand, Aimo typed a message on his phone with the other. I walked beside him, scanning the shelves, holding tightly to a brand-new mug. We stopped by the refrigerated section with cheeses, butter, and desserts. My husband continued typing intently—a work issue. Placing the mug into the cart, I stepped closer to the shelves stacked with cheese. At that moment, a young man nearby dropped something—his hands were full of groceries; he hadn’t taken a basket at the entrance. Quickly crouching, I picked up the butter and set it back onto his pile. “Thanks,” the man said. “You’re welcome,” I replied with a smile. But in the next second, the smile slipped away. My body froze, my breath caught, as if doused in ice water. Our eyes met for just a couple of seconds—but that was enough for me to drown in those dark-green depths. I wanted to say “hi,” or anything at all, but no words came. Antti held my gaze for a heartbeat longer, then walked on. Perhaps for an instant I looked vaguely familiar to him. Perhaps he didn’t recognize me. Or perhaps he did—and didn’t pretend otherwise—because that meeting had never meant anything to him. We couldn’t have been soulmates. If we were, the pull would have been mutual. But why then, in twenty-seven years, had this random person been the only one who ever felt so special? I thought I had forgotten how to breathe, though my chest rose too quickly, betraying me. Aimo called my name, but his voice sounded muffled, as though through layers of water. My gaze clung to Antti’s retreating back. Adjusting his load of groceries, he smoothed his golden-blond hair back with one hand.