Sunlight, that I see

Tbilisi was waking up to its usual chaotic rhythm. If you know where Tbilisi is, then very well. If you don’t, imagine a small, ancient city with narrow streets, old balconies, and weathered buildings that seem to carry a story of their own. Every morning, people from all corners of the country make their way toward the capital, filling the streets with noise, cars, and endless movement.

The traffic is always heavy, yet somehow the city never seems to lose its calm. Perhaps it is the old streets, the faded facades, the warm morning light falling softly over the rooftops, or simply the quiet spirit of the city itself. Tbilisi has a way of making even its chaos feel familiar, almost beautiful. You may be caught in traffic, surrounded by impatient drivers and busy crowds, but somehow it is difficult to stay angry for long. The city moves at its own slow, peaceful rhythm, as if it knows there is no need to hurry.

Melano, an extraordinarily beautiful and charming young Georgian woman, sat behind the wheel, going over every detail of the meeting ahead in her mind. As a successful lawyer, she saw this case as the greatest opportunity of her career, perhaps even the one that could define it.

She glanced at the clock. She had exactly twenty minutes to get there.

Some kind of love song was playing on the radio. From time to time, Melano tried to sing along, hoping to ease her nerves. But she was not really distracted. Her mind remained fixed on the meeting ahead and everything that might come with it.

Suddenly, from the right side, a handicapped child unexpectedly let go of her mother's hand, jumped off the sidewalk and into her driveway. Melano’s heart stopped. She didn't have even a split second to think. Instinctively, she wrenched the steering wheel to the left with all her strength and slammed on the brakes.

Thank God, she reacted quickly enough to avoid the terrible accident that would have struck the child.

There was a sharp screech of tires, and suddenly her car slammed hard into the right rear side of a luxurious black BMW traveling in the next lane. 

For several seconds, she could not move. She was unharmed, but she was terrified and still frozen in shock.

More than the sound of twisting metal and shattering glass, Melano cared about the child's fate. She flung her car door open, rushed out, and ran toward the stunned child standing in the middle of the road.

“What are you doing here, little one? Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” She asked, her voice trembling as she checked the child's limbs and body to make sure they were unharmed. 

Meanwhile, two men, just as shocked as Melano herself, got out of the damaged SUV and hurried toward the scene. As they came closer, they saw Melano kneeling beside the child, paying no attention to the surroundings. 

Alistair, a Scottish businessman who was in Tbilisi for a major corporate business, was the driver and owner of the BMW. Shocked by the sudden impact, he and his friend, David quickly rushed toward the spot where a small crowd was already gathering. He was determined to find out what on earth had just happened and who was responsible.

“What is going on here? Who is responsible for this?” Alistair demanded loudly as he approached the commotion, stepping in to interfere between the talking parties.

Melano gently let go of the child's hand, rose to her feet, and turned around to face him.

And at that very moment, their eyes met.

Alistair froze right where he stood.

The noisy street, his friend's voice, the Tbilisi heat, and the blaring car horns-everything vanished in a single second. The world around him simply stopped existing.

The only thing he could see, the only thing that remained real, was her eyes. Deep, dark, and filled with a fierce, breathless emotion. Alistair, a man accustomed to receiving attention from some of the most beautiful women in every corner of the world, found himself utterly powerless before the gaze of this stranger, the woman who had almost gotten him killed just moments ago.

Seeing his frozen, stunned expression, Melano assumed he must have been injured in the crash. She took a step forward, looking at his tall frame and his long blond hair, and addressed him in a worried yet professional tone, but after realizing he did not speak Georgian, Melano switched to perfect English right away.

“Sir, are you hurt? I am so sorry I hit you... Please forgive me. Do not worry about anything, I will pay for all the damage as soon as possible.”

The police arrived promptly and documented the incident. However, according to the law, it was determined that Melano was at fault, and as the responsible driver, she was required to cover the material damages.

Alistair had no complaints at the scene and agreed that the “at-fault driver” would contact him later and put him in touch with her insurance company.

As for the child, her mother was terribly frightened. She kept apologizing to Melano for letting go of the child’s hand, which had caused the whole incident.

“Please, don’t worry, ma'am. Thank God, the child wasn’t hurt. That’s all that matters to me. As for this gentleman, I’ll compensate him for the damage very soon. So please, everything is fine.”

Melano tried to reassure the frightened woman.

Then she turned to the injured stranger with the same warmth and concern.

“I’m sorry, once again, sir. If you give me your phone number, I’ll definitely call you, and we can arrange the compensation very soon.”

But Alistair just stood there, unable to form a response. His mind was entirely blank, trapped by a single, echoing question-who was this woman who had just altered the course of his life with nothing but a glance?