All Chapters of When In My Dreams, I Met You: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The sound of the letter being unfolded echoed in the quiet of the room. Cara’s fingers trembled slightly as she read the message.“Hi, Cara. Nice that you have a new friend now. He looks smart and sweet. Today, I feel like I want to meet you in person. However, I will give you more time to be ready. I will meet you the soonest.”Cara’s heart skipped a beat. She had been hoping to find answers, to understand the mystery of Mr. Smith, but reading his letter made her even more uneasy. The fact that he had sent the letter through Choco, her newly adopted dog, made it feel so personal. He was closer than ever before, watching her, waiting. The thought unsettled her.Without thinking, she stood up abruptly, her pulse quickening. She hurried outside, scanning the area, desperate to catch a glimpse of him. Was he nearby? Had he been watching her again? But as she stepped into the front yard, her hope faded. There was no sign of anyone. She couldn’t see his face unless he chose to reveal it him

The chemistry instructor had just begun his lecture when the door suddenly swung open. A man walked in, his presence disrupting the class. The professor raised an eyebrow but gave him a nod, allowing him to speak.“Excuse me, sir, may I sit in this class? I missed my morning session,” the man asked, his voice calm yet commanding.Cara’s gaze shifted toward him without her control. Her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t expect to see him today. The very same guy—the one she had been searching for in the Science department just the other day. The one who had mysteriously appeared in her life and then disappeared. Now, here he was.At first, she only noticed him through the shadow of his cap, but today, he had removed it. She could see his face clearly now, and it was even more striking than before. The same handsome features she had only caught glimpses of. His eyes, dark and piercing, seemed to search the room, and for a brief moment, their eyes met.Cara quickly looked away, her pulse ra

Vince lay in his oversized, masculine king-size bed, tossing and turning in frustration. He turned his body from side to side, nearly three times in a row, but sleep eluded him. “Vince Aldred Garcia, get it together. Sleep and stop obsessing over her,” he muttered to himself, scolding his own restless mind. The thoughts of Cara were consuming him, and he couldn’t shake them. His mind kept replaying all the moments they’d shared — the Chemistry class, the moments they’d crossed paths, the times they’d spoken. It was like an endless loop he couldn’t turn off.Thinking about a girl like this wasn’t something Vince was accustomed to. He had never been the type to fixate on someone, especially not to this degree. Yet here he was, unable to stop thinking about Cara. It started the day they met in Chemistry class, and ever since, it felt like destiny had been playing some kind of game with them. She was the one who found his dog, Chippy, in the parking lot, a moment that would stick with him

Vince laughed as he recounted the story, clearly amused by the memory.“Yeah, she showed up in a full Maleficent costume. Can you picture it? She found out her blind date was me, and instead of sticking around, she just bolted—cape flapping in the wind and all. Ran straight down the road, embarrassed as hell. Poor girl,” he said, shaking his head as he smirked.The group of girls at his table burst out laughing, clearly entertained by his dramatization of the event."That's because she can't even compare to your good looks."What a poor woman.” A girl he didn’t know, wearing a short skirt and a cheerleading uniform with bright lipstick, commented on him. While he was waiting for Cara, a group of cheerleaders gathered at his table in the cafeteria.Vince leaned back in his seat, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. His eyes sparkled with confidence as he cracked another one of his trademark jokes. “We actually fit if I wore the costume of Hulk,” he said, a laugh bubbling from hi

Cara was still deeply immersed in her thoughts as she sat at her desk, scribbling in her diary. Her pen glided across the pages with a sense of urgency, trying to record every detail of the dream that had been haunting her since her therapy session. Her therapist, Jean, had told her that documenting her dreams was crucial to unlocking their hidden meanings, pushing her to be as thorough as possible. It wasn’t just a casual assignment; it was part of her journey to better understand herself, to untangle the threads of her subconscious mind. The idea of writing fiction about her own life felt strange, almost surreal, but Jean had explained that it was a way to externalize her feelings and memories in a creative form.As Cara wrote, she revisited the dream she'd experienced during her last session. It had been vivid, unsettling, and oddly personal—like a puzzle she needed to solve. The images and symbols weren’t just random; they seemed to carry a deeper significance, like fragments of a