BEFORE I KNEW I LOVED YOU
Chapter One — The Man by the Window
Madison's POV
Friday nights at the restaurant were exhausting.
By seven o'clock, every table was occupied, the kitchen was overwhelmed, and my feet already hurt.
I glanced at the clock.
7:16 p.m.
Three more hours.
I could survive three more hours.
Probably.
“Madison!”
I turned.
Claire was standing near the kitchen entrance with a tray in her hands.
“Table eight.”
I took the tray from her.
“Thanks.”
She looked at me.
“You okay?”
“I'm tired.”
“You're always tired.”
“Because I'm always working.”
She smiled.
“That's why you have me.”
I laughed.
Claire had been my best friend since our first year at university. We had met during freshman orientation and somehow gone from strangers to practically sisters.
She knew when I was upset.
She knew when I was pretending to be okay.
And she knew exactly how much I hated Friday shifts.
“You have class tomorrow?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then stay out with me tonight.”
I stared at her.
“After work?”
“Obviously.”
“Claire, I'll probably fall asleep standing.”
“Then I'll carry you.”
I laughed.
“You couldn't carry me.”
“Don't underestimate me.”
I shook my head and walked toward table eight.
For the next hour, I barely had time to breathe.
Customers came.
Customers left.
Orders piled up.
Someone complained about their steak.
Someone else spilled a drink.
Normal Friday-night chaos.
Then, around eight-thirty, the restaurant doors opened.
I didn't look up immediately.
Another customer.
Nothing unusual.
But when I finally glanced toward the entrance, I noticed him.
A man had just walked inside.
He was alone.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Well dressed.
Not flashy.
Just expensive.
He wore a dark jacket over a plain shirt, and a silver watch caught the light when he pushed his phone into his pocket.
He looked young.
Maybe twenty-five.
His face was calm, almost unreadable.
He spoke briefly with the hostess before being shown to a table near the window.
Table fourteen.
I looked away.
I had work to do.
A few minutes later, my manager pointed toward the window.
“Madison, table fourteen.”
Of course.
I picked up a menu and walked over.
The man was looking outside.
“Good evening.”
He turned.
Our eyes met briefly.
He gave me a polite nod.
“Good evening.”
I placed the menu on the table.
“Here's the menu. I'll give you a few minutes.”
He nodded.
“Thank you.”
That was it.
I walked away.
No conversation.
No smile.
Nothing.
Just another customer.
I returned to the counter.
Claire looked at me.
“Who is that?”
I shrugged.
“Table fourteen.”
“You know what I mean.”
I glanced toward him.
“I don't know.”
“He's handsome.”
“You think everyone is handsome.”
“Not everyone.”
I laughed.
“Get back to work.”
She smiled.
I continued working.
Every now and then, I noticed him.
He ate quietly.
He barely touched his phone.
He didn't call anyone.
He didn't seem interested in the noise around him.
He just sat there by the window, occasionally looking outside.
At one point, I walked past his table.
His eyes met mine.
I immediately looked away.
Not because I was nervous.
It was just awkward staring at a stranger.
When I returned to the counter, Claire gave me a look.
“What?”
“You looked at him.”
“I was walking past his table.”
“Mhm.”
“Claire.”
She laughed.
“Fine.”
A little later, I brought him his check.
“Whenever you're ready.”
He nodded.
“Thank you.”
I smiled politely.
Then I walked away.
I never learned his name.
I never asked what he did.
I never even heard him say more than a few words.
When his table was empty, I cleared it and moved on to the next customer.
By the end of my shift, I'd forgotten about him.
At least, almost.
Ryan's POV
The restaurant wasn't my usual kind of place.
It was quieter than most of the places I normally went to.
No cameras.
No people recognizing me.
No business associates trying to turn dinner into a meeting.
Exactly what I needed.
I sat by the window and watched the city outside.
My phone kept vibrating.
I ignored it.
For once, I wanted a quiet evening.
Then I noticed the waitress.
Madison.
I didn't know her name at first.
I only noticed the name on her tag when she placed the menu on my table.
She was clearly tired.
But she was still polite.
She didn't treat me differently.
She didn't stare at my watch.
She didn't try to impress me.
She simply did her job.
I found that refreshing.
When she brought my check, I almost said something.
I didn't.
There was no reason to.
She was working.
I finished my dinner and left.
As I stepped into my car, I glanced back at the restaurant.
I didn't know why I looked.
Maybe curiosity.
Maybe nothing.
I turned away.
“Home, sir?” my driver asked.
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
The car pulled away.
I thought the evening was over.
I was wrong.
Because the next night, I found myself sitting in the same restaurant again.
And this time...
Madison was going to remember me.
