He was hit by a car in the foggy crosswalk, his ankle was broken, his phone smashed to bits on the pavement. She was waiting for him in the coffee shop in Loxton were they’d first met. He didn’t know her number, and there was no way to let her know what had happened!
He knew, of course, she wouldn’t still be there after all these days, but the coffee shop was his only frame of reference, his only connection to her. There was nowhere else to go.
He got off the bus at the corner and hobbled slowly down the sidewalk. And there she was, sitting in the window of the cafe. She raised her head and saw him limping across the street. He looked in at her for a minute, shaking his head, then shambled through the door, leaning heavily on his cane.
“You waited for me,” he said.
“Not so long — only six days.”
“There was an accident. I didn’t know how to reach you.”
“But you’re here now.”
“How long would you have waited?”
“Until you came,” she smiled.
perfect!
She's "a keeper". : )