The rain hammered against the cafe windows, a relentless rhythm that mirrored Elara's anxiety. She nervously smoothed the crisp white tablecloth, her gaze fixed on the empty chair across from her. Liam was late. Again. He had a habit of being fashionably late, a trait she usually found endearing, but tonight, her nerves were frayed. Tonight was their anniversary.

Outside, the streetlights blurred into hazy halos, casting a romantic glow on the wet pavement. Elara sighed, a small puff of air against the chill of the cafe. She replayed their first meeting in her mind, a chance encounter in a bookstore, where their hands had brushed while reaching for the same worn copy of "Wuthering Heights." The memory usually brought a smile to her face, but tonight, it only amplified her worry.

Just as she was about to give up hope, the bell above the door jingled, announcing a new arrival. Elara's heart leaped. She looked up, and there he was, shaking the rain from his dark hair, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice a warm rumble. "Traffic was a nightmare."

Elara managed a weak smile. He was holding a small, velvet box.

"Happy Anniversary," he said, his eyes sparkling. He sat down, his gaze holding hers. He opened the box to reveal not a ring, as she had half-expected, half-feared, but a delicate, antique compass.

Elara frowned, confused.

"This," Liam explained, "is so you'll never be lost. Not physically, and not emotionally. Because my direction, my true north, is always you."

Elara's breath caught in her throat. The rain outside seemed to soften, the cafe lights glowed brighter. She reached across the table and took his hand, his warmth chasing away the last vestiges of her anxiety. He might be late sometimes, he might drive her crazy with his quirks, but in that moment, surrounded by the gentle hum of the cafe and the steady beat of the rain, she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be. Lost, perhaps, in the storm of love, but finally, and completely, found.