I never thought much about fate. Life, for me, was always quiet—work, sleep, repeat. I had dreams, sure, but I knew what was realistic, possible. Until I met him. It happened by chance—or so I thought. I was at my regular café on lunch, checking emails. It was crowded, the usual weekday rush, when I felt it—a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up. There, standing at the counter, was a man who looked exactly like me. Taller, straighter posture, but it was my face—my eyes, my hair, my expression. The resemblance was so uncanny it froze me in place. My breath caught. I couldn’t look away. He turned, seemingly oblivious, and took his coffee from the barista. I watched him, trying to shake off the discomfort building in my chest. Maybe it was a trick of the light, a coincidence. Until I saw him glance over at me—catching my stare. His expression shifted. He smiled. It was a strange, knowing smile, like he was aware of something I wasn’t. “Good to see you,” he said, his voice perfectly matching m...