Meu ex e eu nos conhecemos na festa de aniversário do meu melhor amigo – encontrei a casa dele quase destruída quando acordei

Um casal apaixonado | Fonte: Unsplash

Agora, minha ex-namorada é a ruína da minha existência, aquela que transformou nosso romance de conto de fadas em um pesadelo vivo. Costumávamos ser inseparáveis, a dupla dinâmica que nossos amigos chamavam de “B&B”, mas agora nos odiamos mil vezes mais do que jamais nos amamos.

Recentemente, encontrei Betty na festa de aniversário do meu amigo Josh e, deixe-me dizer, levei o maior choque da minha vida quando acordei com um pesadelo na manhã seguinte.

Um homem chocado cobrindo a boca com um pano preto | Fonte: Pexels

Um homem chocado cobrindo a boca com um pano preto | Fonte: Pexels

Foi assim que tudo começou.

Quando entrei na festa, lá estava ela — Betty, conversando animadamente com alguns convidados. No momento em que ela me viu, seu rosto caiu, e nós nos olhamos. Eu me preparei, sabendo que isso só poderia acabar mal.

Com certeza, Josh se aproximou com uma cerveja, pensando que seria uma ótima ideia tentar nos fazer conversar.

“Ei, B&B! Trouxe uma bebida para vocês. Por que vocês dois não vêm aqui e conversam?” ele disse, com um sorriso esperançoso no rosto.

Um homem segurando uma garrafa de cerveja | Fonte: Pexels

Um homem segurando uma garrafa de cerveja | Fonte: Pexels

Mas a expressão de Betty rapidamente azedou. “Conversar? Com ​​ele?” ela zombou, pegando uma garrafa de vinho da mesa próxima. “Vou quebrar a cabeça dele agora! O que ele está fazendo aqui?”

Olhei feio para Josh. “Cara, que diabos?? Você prometeu que ELA não estaria aqui. Por que você a convidou??”

Os insultos começaram a voar, e nossos amigos tiveram que intervir para nos manter separados. A noite toda foi tensa, com Betty e eu nos evitando a todo custo. Não pude deixar de pensar em como acabamos nessa confusão.

Uma mulher furiosa segurando a cabeça | Fonte: Pexels

Uma mulher furiosa segurando a cabeça | Fonte: Pexels

Vários meses antes, Betty e eu nos conhecemos no casamento de uma amiga em Paris, de todos os lugares. Foi um daqueles encontros casuais que pareciam bons demais para ser verdade. Nós conversamos e trocamos números, e em pouco tempo, éramos inseparáveis.

“Você acredita? Nós nos conhecemos em um casamento em Paris e agora estamos aqui, juntos,” eu disse a ela, meu coração disparado.

Ela sorriu, aqueles lindos olhos brilhando. “Eu sei, é como algo saído de um filme. Estou tão feliz por ter encontrado você, Brady.”

Um casal romântico se abraçando | Fonte: Unsplash

Um casal romântico se abraçando | Fonte: Unsplash

Aqueles primeiros dias foram como um conto de fadas… jantares românticos, beijos roubados e risadas sem fim. Estávamos completamente apaixonados um pelo outro.

Então as coisas tomaram um rumo selvagem quando decidimos arriscar e morar juntos. A proximidade só pareceu amplificar nossas diferenças.

Eu trabalhava no turno da noite, enquanto Betty trabalhava das 9 às 5, então nossos horários nunca coincidiram.

Um homem em seu escritório | Fonte: Pexels

Um homem em seu escritório | Fonte: Pexels

“Por que você não atende minhas ligações? Estou sentada aqui sozinha neste apartamento vazio!” Betty gritava pelo telefone, sua voz cheia de frustração.

“Estou no trabalho, Betty. Você sabe minha agenda. Podemos falar sobre isso depois?”, eu implorava, tentando manter a calma.

Mas ela não quis. “Não, precisamos conversar sobre isso agora! Você nunca está aqui quando preciso de você.”

Retrato de uma mulher furiosa gritando | Fonte: Pexels

Retrato de uma mulher furiosa gritando | Fonte: Pexels

As brigas começaram pequenas, por coisas bobas, como ela querer que eu a levasse ao salão de beleza quando eu tinha uma reunião importante com um cliente.

“Brady, é só uma ida rápida ao salão. Você não pode reservar um tempo para mim?”, ela choramingava.

“Betty, tenho uma reunião que pode fazer ou desfazer esse acordo. Não pode esperar?”, eu argumentava, já sentindo a tensão aumentando.

Um casal frustrado sentado em um banco de madeira | Fonte: Pexels

Um casal frustrado sentado em um banco de madeira | Fonte: Pexels

Mas eles rapidamente escalaram, e logo estávamos brigando pela menor provocação. A gota d’água veio quando Betty gritou comigo na frente de todos os meus amigos.

“Você não é um homem melhor para mim, Brady! Você não me mantém feliz de jeito nenhum”, ela gritou, com lágrimas escorrendo pelo rosto.

Eu não aguentava mais. Fiz as malas e saí do apartamento naquela mesma noite, terminando com ela para sempre.

Um homem fazendo as malas | Fonte: Pexels

Um homem fazendo as malas | Fonte: Pexels

Desde então, nós estávamos nos evitando como uma praga, mas não era fácil quando você tinha muitos amigos em comum. É por isso que eu tinha evitado festas e reuniões sociais, com medo de encontrá-la novamente.

Mas quando Josh me convidou para sua festa de aniversário, eu não pude dizer não. O cara tinha passado pelo inferno e voltado por causa do câncer, e eu devia a ele estar lá.

Então, eu apareci, me preparando para o inevitável. Agora, vamos voltar para aquele pesadelo de festa de aniversário onde tudo começou.

“O que esse perdedor está fazendo aqui?” ela gritou novamente, olhando feio para Josh.

Retrato em close de uma mulher furiosa | Fonte: Pexels

Retrato em close de uma mulher furiosa | Fonte: Pexels

Josh, que Deus o abençoe, tentou bancar o pacificador. “Uau, uau, vamos todos nos acalmar. Betty, pensei que seria bom para você e Brady—”

“Você prometeu que ele não estaria aqui. Por que o convidou?” Betty interrompeu, seus olhos brilhando de raiva.

Acabamos em uma discussão acalorada novamente, com nossos amigos tentando nos impedir de nos separar. O resto da festa foi um borrão de bebidas e música.

Um casal discutindo entre si | Fonte: Pexels

Um casal discutindo entre si | Fonte: Pexels

Quando finalmente acordei na manhã seguinte na casa de Josh, eu estava desorientado e não tinha ideia do que tinha acontecido. Mas uma coisa estava clara — a cozinha de Josh estava uma bagunça completa. Armários estavam quebrados, pratos estavam espalhados por todo lugar e parecia que um tornado tinha varrido o lugar.

Betty entrou, igualmente perplexa. “O que diabos aconteceu aqui?” ela exclamou, observando a destruição.

Balancei a cabeça, igualmente confuso. “Não tenho ideia. Quem fez isso?”

Uma cozinha em caos | Fonte: Midjourney

Uma cozinha em caos | Fonte: Midjourney

Nesse momento, meu telefone tocou. Era Josh, e uma verdade chocante veio à tona.

“Vocês dois idiotas brigaram bêbados ontem à noite e destruíram minha casa!” ele gritou, sua voz tingida de frustração. “O senhorio está furioso e quer tudo consertado até hoje à noite. É melhor vocês irem lá e começarem a limpar!”

Com o tempo se esgotando, Betty e eu relutantemente começamos a limpar a bagunça, constantemente discutindo e culpando um ao outro.

Um homem falando ao telefone | Fonte: Pexels

Um homem falando ao telefone | Fonte: Pexels

“Isso é tudo culpa sua, sabia? Se você não tivesse aparecido, nada disso teria acontecido”, Betty retrucou, esfregando uma bancada com mais força do que o necessário.

“Minha culpa? Foi você quem pegou a garrafa de vinho e começou a gritar!”, retruquei, varrendo cacos de cerâmica quebrada.

Mas, conforme esfregávamos e arrumávamos, algo começou a mudar. Percebemos que, se quiséssemos consertar isso, precisávamos deixar nossas diferenças de lado e trabalhar juntos.

Um homem varrendo o chão | Fonte: Pexels

Um homem varrendo o chão | Fonte: Pexels

Hora após hora de agonia, colocamos nossos corações em ação para restaurar a casa de Josh à sua antiga glória, determinados a deixá-la impecável antes que o proprietário retornasse.

“Não acredito que estamos fazendo isso. É como se fôssemos uma maldita equipe de limpeza”, Betty resmungou, limpando uma prateleira.

“Bem, não teríamos que fazer isso se você não tivesse enlouquecido ontem à noite”, retruquei, estremecendo quando as palavras saíram da minha boca.

Uma mulher furiosa cruzando os braços | Fonte: Pexels

Uma mulher furiosa cruzando os braços | Fonte: Pexels

Betty fez uma pausa, e por um momento, pensei que ela fosse começar outra discussão. Mas, em vez disso, ela soltou um suspiro pesado.

“Você está certo. Sinto muito, Brady. Vamos só… acabar logo com isso, ok?” ela disse, sua voz mais suave do que eu tinha ouvido em meses.

Eu assenti, um pequeno sorriso puxando os cantos dos meus lábios. “OKAAAA!”

Retrato de uma mulher olhando para o lado | Fonte: Pexels

Retrato de uma mulher olhando para o lado | Fonte: Pexels

Quando nossos amigos apareceram naquela noite, eles ficaram surpresos com o quão boa a casa parecia. Então Josh deu um passo à frente, sorrindo maliciosamente.

“Adorei o truque, amigo?” ele disse, rindo. “Vocês dois finalmente… CONVERSARAM!!”

No começo, Betty e eu ficamos furiosas, prontas para atacar Josh e os outros. Mas quando trocamos um olhar, algo mudou. Toda a raiva e ressentimento que estávamos guardando pareceram derreter, substituídos por um anseio pela conexão que um dia compartilhamos.

Um homem rindo | Fonte: Pexels

Um homem rindo | Fonte: Pexels

Antes que eu pudesse reagir, Betty se jogou em meus braços, com lágrimas nos olhos. “Senti sua falta, idiota!”, ela exclamou, enterrando o rosto em meu peito.

Nossos amigos comemoraram, e assim, as paredes entre nós desabaram. Podemos ter nos odiado, mas a verdade é que só nos odiávamos porque nos amávamos profundamente.

Um homem beijando uma mulher no nariz | Fonte: Unsplash

Um homem beijando uma mulher no nariz | Fonte: Unsplash

Enquanto nos abraçávamos, percebi que, apesar de todos os altos e baixos, Betty e eu estávamos de volta aos trilhos. Dessa vez, eu estava determinada a fazer as coisas de forma diferente. Chega de brigas por coisas bobas, chega de nos darmos por garantidos.

Eu queria valorizar cada momento e construir um amor duradouro que pudesse resistir ao teste do tempo.

“Sabe, nós passamos por muita coisa, você e eu”, murmurei, acariciando o cabelo de Betty enquanto ela dava um beijo na minha testa.

Uma mulher beijando um homem na testa | Fonte: Unsplash

Uma mulher beijando um homem na testa | Fonte: Unsplash

Ela olhou para mim, seus olhos brilhando. “Eu sei. Mas é isso que nos torna fortes, certo? Nós vimos o pior um do outro, e ainda estamos aqui.”

Eu assenti, uma onda de emoções me inundando. “É, e eu não quero perder isso de novo. Eu quero que a gente faça dar certo, Betty. De verdade dessa vez.”

“Eu também,” ela sussurrou. “Nada mais de brigas, nada mais de tomar um ao outro como garantido. Só você e eu, ok?”

Puxei-a para mais perto, meu coração inchando de esperança. “Okay.”

Um casal de mãos dadas | Fonte: Unsplash

Um casal de mãos dadas | Fonte: Unsplash

Ao sairmos da casa de Josh, de mãos dadas, não pude deixar de sentir uma sensação de esperança. Esperança por um futuro em que poderíamos navegar pelos altos e baixos da vida juntos, com mais momentos doces do que amargos.

Não seria fácil, mas se alguém poderia fazer isso funcionar, éramos nós — B&B, a dupla dinâmica, reunida e pronta para enfrentar o mundo.

Vista traseira de um casal se abraçando | Fonte: Unsplash

Vista traseira de um casal se abraçando | Fonte: Unsplash

Aqui vai outra  história : Minha mãe ficou trancada em um armário durante meu casamento. Mas o verdadeiro choque chegou quando descobrimos quem fez isso e por quê.

Este trabalho é inspirado em eventos e pessoas reais, mas foi ficcionalizado para fins criativos. Nomes, personagens e detalhes foram alterados para proteger a privacidade e melhorar a narrativa. Qualquer semelhança com pessoas reais, vivas ou mortas, ou eventos reais é mera coincidência e não intencional do autor.

O autor e a editora não fazem nenhuma reivindicação quanto à precisão dos eventos ou à representação dos personagens e não são responsáveis ​​por nenhuma interpretação errônea. Esta história é fornecida “como está” e quaisquer opiniões expressas são as dos personagens e não refletem as opiniões do autor ou da editora.

Woman Accidentally Hit a Man in the Nose in the Elevator, Only to Discover He Was Her New Boss — Story of the Day

Claire was nervous about her first day at her new job, but getting stuck in the elevator with a stranger and accidentally breaking his nose in a panic made things worse. When they exited the elevator, she discovered that this man was her new boss. A boss known for his reputation as a ruthless tyrant.

Claire walked down a bustling street, her stomach a knot with excitement. Today was her first day at a new job, a job she had long dreamed of. She was starting as a graphic designer at a large company, and it was very exciting for Claire.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She knew she had to make a good impression on the first day and worried about whether she could pull it off.

Claire was naturally very clumsy, so she rarely managed to made a good first impression, but today she was determined to succeed.

Another reason she needed to show her best side was that she had heard rumors that her new boss was very strict and demanding, not tolerating mistakes.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves as she approached the towering office building. It loomed above her, glass reflecting the morning sunlight. With a final deep breath, she mustered up her courage and went inside.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The lobby was grand, with sleek modern decor and people hurrying about. Claire felt a bit overwhelmed but kept moving, reminding herself to stay focused. She walked to the elevator, where an attractive man in a suit was already standing.

He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen him before. His sharp suit and confident stance made him look important. Claire pressed the button to call the elevator.

“I already pressed the button; there was no need to press it again,” the man said coldly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, you mean the elevator. I didn’t even think… It’s my first day,” Claire mumbled, stumbling over her words. The man gave her a stern look. “I’m very anxious,” she added.

The elevator doors opened, and the man stepped inside. Claire followed him in. The man pressed the button for the 11th floor and looked at Claire, expecting her to press her floor button.

“Me too, 11,” she said. Claire had checked all the information she had been sent dozens of times that morning. “So, it looks like we’ll be colleagues,” she said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah,” the man replied.

“I heard the boss is very strict and doesn’t forgive mistakes,” Claire said with a nervous laugh.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. If you want a successful company, you need to minimize mistakes and the people who make them,” he replied.

“Maybe,” she said, thinking they definitely wouldn’t be friends. “I’m Claire, by the way,” she extended her hand for a shake.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Yes, I—” but the man was cut off as the elevator suddenly stopped.

“What’s happening?” Claire asked in a panic.

“It seems there’s a malfunction; it should start again soon,” the man replied calmly. Just after he said this, the lights in the elevator went out.

“Oh god, no, no, no. Not this! We’re stuck!” Claire began to panic.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Calm down; it should start working again soon.”

Claire started to hyperventilate, pacing back and forth in the elevator.

“What’s happening to you?” the man asked.

“I’m really afraid of confined spaces,” Claire answered.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You were just fine a moment ago.”

“ʼBut the elevator ride only takes a few seconds; I can handle that. Now it’s unclear how long we’ll be stuck here.” Claire couldn’t calm down; she was already on edge, and now this. She collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down her face. “I’m not ready to die so young!” she cried out.

The man crouched next to her and put his hand on her back. “Calm down; no one is going to die. It’s just an elevator, and you’re not alone,” he said, gently rubbing her back.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Miraculously, this started to help, and Claire slowly began to calm down. Suddenly, the elevator jolted, scaring her, and she accidentally elbowed something.

“We’re falling!” Claire screamed. Suddenly, the lights came back on, and the elevator began to move. Claire turned around and saw she had bloodied the man’s nose.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to,” she said, standing up from the floor.

The man remained silent, pressing a handkerchief to his nose. The elevator doors opened, and the man immediately stepped out. Claire followed him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mr. Hemforth! What happened?” a woman cried out. Claire felt her blood run cold. Mr. Hemforth—that was the name of her new boss. Claire had just punched her boss!

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath.

Several days had passed since the elevator incident, and all this time, Claire increasingly felt that Mr. Hemforth hated her.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. His constant disapproval only added to her anxiety.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He hadn’t approved any of her work or ideas, no matter how hard she tried. Claire arrived at work at 7 a.m. and left at 10 p.m., just to finally create something Hemforth would like, but it was all in vain. Her efforts seemed pointless. It seemed he was deliberately rejecting her work.

When other colleagues praised something and said how great Claire was, Hemforth would look at her work and say he’d never seen anything worse in his life. It was like a punch to the gut every time. Claire’s confidence was dwindling.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

One day, Claire decided to try again. She walked to his office, her heart pounding. She took a deep breath, mustering the little courage she had left, and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Hemforth’s voice called from inside.

Claire entered, holding her latest design in her hands. “Mr. Hemforth, I’ve made some changes. I hope this meets your expectations,” she said, handing him her work.

“Are you kidding me?” Hemforth said, frowning. “Why are you showing me a draft?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“This is the final version,” Claire replied, her voice shaky.

“You shouldn’t have said that. Redo it,” Hemforth replied, his tone stern.

Claire couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you hate me so much? I’ve apologized several times for hitting you, and it was an accident. Everyone else praises my work. Why haven’t you said anything good?”

“I don’t hate you. I want to teach you,” Hemforth answered calmly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Then you should take teaching courses,” Claire snapped, her frustration boiling over. She turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her.

That evening, the office was empty and dimly lit. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound accompanying Claire as she sat at her desk, tirelessly working on the same project over and over again.

Her eyes were strained from staring at the screen for hours, and she rubbed them, trying to focus. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, reminding her that it was already half past ten at night.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Suddenly, Claire heard the familiar sound of the elevator dinging. She glanced up, squinting to see who it could be at this late hour.

The dim lighting made it hard to make out the figure at first. Her heart skipped a beat when the figure stepped out of the shadows, and she realized it was Hemforth.

“Damn it!” Hemforth shouted, his voice echoing in the empty office. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Claire said, her voice small and apologetic.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Hemforth took a deep breath and approached her desk. “What are you doing here so late?” he asked, his tone softer now.

“I’m working,” Claire replied, trying to muster a smile. “And you?”

“I forgot my phone,” Hemforth said, shaking his head. “Came back to get it.”

“I see,” Claire said, feeling a bit awkward.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Hemforth leaned over to look at her laptop screen. “Why are you doing it this way?” he asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

Claire blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying so hard to fit into our mold?” Hemforth asked, looking at her intently.

“I thought that’s what I was supposed to do,” Claire said, her voice uncertain.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Hemforth shook his head. “I hired you because your work stood out. I thought you could bring something new to our company.”

Claire was taken aback. “I… I didn’t know that,” she admitted. She really thought he wanted her to follow the same guidelines as everyone else.

Hemforth sighed and took the mouse from her hand, deleting everything she had been working on. Claire gasped, feeling a pang of panic. “What are you doing? I spent the whole day on that!” she protested.

“I know,” Hemforth said, looking at her with a calm expression. “I’m sorry, but I want you to create something new. Something that’s truly yours, not just what you think we want.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Claire felt her frustration rising. “Well, I guess I’ll be spending the night here,” she said, determined to prove herself.

“No need,” Hemforth said, shaking his head. “Start fresh tomorrow.”

“No,” Claire insisted. “I want to come in with results. You’ll probably fire me anyway.”

Hemforth looked surprised. “Why would I fire you?” he asked.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Because I haven’t had a single approved project,” Claire said, feeling the weight of her frustration and exhaustion.

“That’s normal,” Hemforth reassured her. “You’re still learning. You’re the most talented person in this office, maybe even better than me. Just stop limiting yourself.”

Claire stared at him in disbelief. She had never expected to hear such praise from Hemforth. “Really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Hemforth said firmly. “We haven’t had such a young and talented employee in a long time. The last one was five years ago.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Claire looked at him, puzzled. “You’re not much older than me,” she said.

“I’m talking about myself,” Hemforth explained. “I joined the company only five years ago, and look where I am now. And you’re better than me. If you want, I can help you.”

Claire felt a surge of gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Hemforth,” she said. “But I’d rather do it myself.”

Hemforth smiled. “Just call me Derek,” he said. “Work hours ended long ago. I’ll be in my office if you need help.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As Hemforth walked away, Claire felt a newfound determination. She took a deep breath and turned back to her laptop, ready to create something truly her own.

The next few hours, Claire spent working on a new project. She kept Hemforth’s words in mind and let herself be free, not worrying about fitting in. She tried new ideas and different styles, feeling more confident with each stroke.

Finally, Claire sat back and looked at the finished work. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was the best thing she had created since starting at the company. A smile spread across her face.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Claire grabbed her laptop and walked to Hemforth’s office. She knocked gently on the door, her heart pounding. When Hemforth looked up, she stepped inside and placed the laptop on his desk, turning it so he could see the screen.

“Take a look,” Claire said, her voice a bit shaky but hopeful.

“See, that’s what I was talking about. Good job,” Hemforth said, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Really?” Claire asked, her eyes wide with surprise. She still couldn’t believe it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes,” Hemforth said, standing up from his desk. “You can actually do much more than you imagine.”

“Thank you,” Claire said, feeling a mix of relief and pride.

She returned to her desk and started packing her things. Claire walked to the elevator, where Hemforth was already standing, waiting.

“I’m getting flashbacks from our first meeting,” Claire said with a small laugh.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“That wasn’t our first meeting,” Hemforth replied, his expression softening.

“What do you mean?” Claire asked, puzzled.

“Do you remember the graduation party where you cried in the bathroom because your lenses were expired and your eyes were burning?” Hemforth asked, looking at her closely.

“I wasn’t crying; my eyes were just watering. How do you know that?” Claire asked, her mind racing to remember.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I was the one who brought you tissues and lens solution,” Hemforth said, a smile playing on his lips.

“That was you?” Claire said, her eyes widening in recognition. “I thought that was some kind graduate…”

“Yeah, that was me,” Hemforth replied. The elevator doors closed, and they both stepped inside.

“I’ve been looking for you since that day but couldn’t find you. Then I saw your resume for this job,” Hemforth continued, his voice calm but sincere.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You were looking for me?” Claire asked, her heart skipping a beat.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Hemforth admitted.

“Oh,” Claire said, feeling a rush of emotions.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” Hemforth said, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I was going to drop out the next day because I thought I wasn’t good enough,” Claire confessed. “But I stayed because of your words.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What’s important is not whether you’re worthy of being here, but whether you’re ready to fight for your choice,” they said in unison, both surprised at their shared memory.

“You remember,” Claire said, smiling brightly.

“Of course,” Hemforth said. “I remember every part of that conversation.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Their eyes met, and without thinking, Hemforth leaned in to kiss Claire. She responded, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hemforth pressed a button, and the elevator stopped.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” he said softly, then kissed Claire again.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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