Forceful Tangle

(For I Have Loved Him From Summer to Spring, From Spring to Winter.)

I told myself I wouldn't fall for anyone, not again-not after Noah. But here I was, kissing someone who would never measure up to the boy I could never forget.

"Laura," he gasped, pulling away to catch his breath.

"Laura?" he repeated, but I didn't answer. My lips pressed harder against his, giving him the kiss he wanted-the one he asked for.

"Stop!" he said, pushing me off, his chest heaving.

"What's wrong?"

"N-no, nothing." He chuckled nervously, avoiding my gaze. "It's just... it's odd for a virgin to kiss like that. It's almost as if you aren't one."

"What?" I stared at him in disbelief, his words slicing through me like a knife.

He tried to backtrack, his grin faltering. But I didn't wait for an apology. I opened the car door, slammed it shut, and, in a burst of anger, kicked his shiny bumper..

"Laura, wait!" he called, still sitting in the car, his voice laced with regret.

I didn't look back. "Don't you dare call my number again!" I shouted, storming into my parents' restaurant.

"Condescending psycho," I muttered under my breath as I walked in, forgetting to take off my shoes.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of bleach and leftover spices. My parents were cleaning up, the tables already bare and the chairs stacked neatly.

"Take off those shoes right this minute, young lady!" my mother yelled from across the room, dropping the mop in her hands.

I ignored her and headed upstairs, but she rushed at me, hitting my shoulder with enough force to stop me in my tracks.

"I'm talking to you, missy! Don't you dare pretend you didn't hear me!"

I screamed, loud enough to make her flinch.

"Can't you see that I'm in a bad mood? Why is everyone treating me like this?"

My mother blinked, stunned, while my father abandoned the table he was wiping and rushed over. He placed a hand on her arm, steadying her before she could retaliate.

"Calm down, honey," my father pleaded.

"Did you see that? "She yelled at me!" my mother sputtered, pointing at me like I'd committed a crime. "Her own mother! That girl will be the death of me!"

I ignored them both and rushed upstairs, slamming my door shut. From behind it, I could still hear their muffled conversation.

I laughed quietly to myself, jumping onto my bed. It was ironic-my temper was clearly inherited from her.

Even in her older years, my mother was as beautiful as ever. Men often flirted with her at the restaurant, captivated by her blonde hair, elegant stature, and sharp features.

I was her mirror image-same sharp features, same fiery temper. The only difference was my ginger hair, courtesy of my father, which seemed to draw men in like moths to a flame. Too bad I never gave any of them a chance.

Except tonight. And it ended in disaster.

My phone buzzed with a message from Laila: How was the blind date?

I flipped the phone over, silencing the notifications. I wasn't in the mood for her curiosity or her inevitable teasing. What I needed was a drink.

I waited until I heard my parents retire to their room. The house fell silent. I crept out of my room, leaving the door slightly ajar, and grabbed my coat.

The streets were dark, the air crisp with the scent of rain. I paused beneath the glow of the restaurant's sign-Laura's Kitchen, it read, in peeling gold letters. My parents had built the restaurant from nothing, sacrificing their living room to keep us afloat.

The thought only soured my mood further as I walked toward the bar down the street.

The closed sign hung crookedly on the door, but I pushed it open anyway.

"Sorry, we're closed for the night," a familiar voice called out. Laila, wiping the bar counter, didn't bother to look up.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in?" I asked, my voice softer than usual.

Her head snapped up, and her frown melted into a grin. "Laura! I've been trying to reach you. Come on in."

I walked straight to the counter and sank onto a stool.

"So? How was the blind date?"

"Don't," I said, shaking my head. "I'm really not in the mood."

"That bad, huh?" Nothing a drink wouldn't do to fix those lousy blues."

I chuckled and watched her go get us a drink. "Don't forget the snacks," I reminded her.

Crackers?"

"Sure."

She placed a large bottle on the counter, pouring its contents into two small cups as she slid one to me and took hers, sitting beside me with a plate filled with crumbled crackers.

"To lousy blind dates." She said with a playful smirk.

"To lousy blind dates," I echoed, downing the shot in one go. The burn was sharp, bitter-exactly what I needed.

"Tell me what happened," she prodded, pouring another. "Did he stand you up? Say something stupid?"

"One question at a time, Laila."

I sighed. "It started well, but then..."

"Uh-oh. Here comes the bad part," she teased, pouring more into my glass. Good thing it's a thirty percent alcoholic drink.

I took a deep breath, staring at the glass in my hand. "He kissed me, then he... assumed I wasn't a virgin because I was 'too good at it."

"What?" she exclaimed, nearly knocking over her glass. "What an idiot!"

"Right?" I downed my drink in one gulp, grimacing at the burn.

"Strong, huh?"

"Yeah. Where did you get this," never seen it here before?

She shrugged her shoulders and poured another round. "So... any news from Noah?"

The mention of his name wiped the smile from my face.

Noah, my childhood friend, was someone I had a crush on back in high school. I wasn't entirely the person I am today back then. I was the least likely student anyone would want to hang out with, and meeting Noah changed that.

When he left to study abroad after graduation, we still kept in touch-until one day, he called to tell me not to contact him anymore. Eventually, I learned to forget about him-at least, until tonight, when Laila asked me about him.

"What about him?" I asked cautiously.

"Didn't you hear? He's back."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Back?"

"Yeah. He's moved back to town."

I laughed bitterly, grabbing the bottle and pouring a generous amount into my glass. "He just had to pick now, didn't he?"

"Laura, maybe you should-"

"I don't want to talk about him," I snapped, grabbing the bottle and taking a long swig.

"Hey....... Drop the bottle!"

I ignored her, finishing half the bottle.

"Laura, give me that-"

I watched as Laila stared at me in bewilderment, as I stood up and almost fell but Laila helped me get up.

"Laura! Please let me take you home!"

"I'm fine," I slurred, waving her off as I stumbled out and I hailed a cab, not sure where I was going.

The ride blurred by, but something felt off. My phone buzzed.

"Where are you?" Laila's voice demanded.

"In a cab, going home," I replied.

"Home? I'm at home here with your parents."

My heart sank. "What?"

The line cut off, and I leaned toward the driver. "Sir, where are we going?"

"Estate Avenue," the driver said, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

I froze. My pulse quickened as I stared out the window, watching the familiar streets pass by.

When the cab stopped, I found myself in front of a demolished house. Noah's house.

Every drunken night, I ended up here. The memories of Noah were etched into this place-his laugh, his arguments with his parents, the times I watched him cry from a distance but couldn't bring myself to approach him.

"Why did you have to come back?" I whispered, turning to leave.

"Laura?"

I froze again, my breath hitching. That voice. It couldn't be.

I turned slowly, and there he was. Noah.

He walked toward me, his expression unreadable, until he closed the distance and pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Laura," he whispered, his voice tinged with something I couldn't place.

Tears streamed down my face as I clung to him. At that moment, I never wanted to let go.

My face turned red, and I quickly pulled back from hugging him. Noah stared at me and coughed nervously, looking as awkward as I felt.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "But... what are you doing here?"

"I was passing by," I lied, crossing my arms to shield my embarrassment.

"Are you... drunk?"

"Why do you care? I need to get home," I snapped, turning away.

"Laura."

"What?"

"Let me take you home."

"I'm fine," I retorted, walking farther away from him.

"I see you still haven't changed one bit," he said under his breath.

I ignored him and hailed a cab. As I arrived home, I noticed my mother and Laila sitting in the living room. Both of them watched me with knowing eyes.

"Well?" my mother said, staring at me angrily.

"I missed my way," I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

"You little-!" She lunged at me, but Laila held her back, gesturing for me to leave for my room.

"Let her go to her room, ma'am," Laila said calmly.

I wasted no time bolting upstairs and locking my door behind me.

"That was close," I muttered, exhaling deeply. I took off my coat and hung it on the door handle. My mother's loud voice carried through the walls as she continued berating Laila for shielding me.

Laila wasn't just my neighborhood friend; she was family. After losing her grandmother during high school, my parents had taken her in.

She lost her parents in a car accident when she was six and had to live with her grandmother. She was deeply grateful to my parents for sponsoring her education through college. Back then, my father's high-paying job allowed us to comfortably care for six people.

After my father lost all his fortune to betting-a mistake my mother never forgave. She made him do all the house chores whenever she was reminded of it. The only way she could show her gratitude was by selling her grandmother's house and opening a small local restaurant for my parents, along with a little bar for herself.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. I instantly recognized it-Laila's signature knock.

"Come in," I said, unlocking the door as I stepped aside.

She walked in carrying a steaming bowl. "Where were you, Laura?"

"I went for a walk," I lied again, sitting on the bed.

"Here, this will help," she said, handing me the bowl. "You went to Noah's place again, didn't you?"

I sipped the soup and stayed silent. Laila sighed, sitting beside me.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much," she chided. "I told you it was thirty percent alcohol!"

"First time for everything," I said nonchalantly.

"You could have gotten alcohol poisoning, Laura. You can't just drink like that!"

"Here we go again," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I'm serious. So, did you go to Noah's house or not?"

"I did."

"I knew it! I shouldn't have told you he was back."

"Whether you did or not, I'd have found out. He's popular."

"So, what happened?"

I chuckled, lying on my back. "He hugged me."

Laila raised an eyebrow. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Feel? I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Tell me, Laura. How did it feel seeing him again after all these years, you've always longed to see him?"

"I wanted to be with him," I admitted softly, placing the empty bowl on the nightstand.

"That's expected," Laila said, lying back on the bed as well. "I wish Allen was still alive... I'd give anything to see him again."

I turned to her. Tears glistened in her eyes, though she fought to hold them back.

"Don't let Noah go if you still love him," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"You make it sound like we're dating."

"Anything's possible. Anyway, what time is your interview tomorrow?"

"Eight in the morning."

"Guess you have an early start, then."

"Why? Do you need something?"

"No, I just wanted to tell you... I have a blind date at my bar tomorrow."

I burst out laughing, and she frowned at me.

"It's not funny!"

"It is! You? A blind date?"

"It's not funny Laura."

"It is, because you've never thought of going on a date. Not especially since Allen died," I said, feeling a pang of guilt as I remembered how heartbroken she was when her boyfriend died saving her from getting hit by a truck.

That incident-that day-was one none of us would ever forget.

---

It was a bright afternoon. We had just finished our semester exams and were heading home when Allen pulled up in his car, as usual, looking like he owned the world.

"Hey there, ladies!" he called out, leaping onto the roof of his car like some movie hero. Heads turned. Students paused mid-conversation to watch the spectacle.

"What is he doing?" I asked Laila, who only shrugged, her face lighting up with delight as she watched him.

"Laila, baby," he said, spreading his arms dramatically. "Would you go on a date with me?"

Laila grinned, nodded, and rushed over to him. He jumped down to hug her as the crowd of students clapped and cheered at the romantic display.

"Laura, I promise to be back early!" Laila called out, waving excitedly as she got into the car.

I stepped up to Allen with a smirk. "Bring her back in one piece, or I'll kill you and leave you for the vultures." I said playfully.

He swallowed hard, the humor draining from his face. "Got it," he muttered, opening the car door.

But night came, and they didn't.

---

My mother and I paced the living room, worry clawing at our nerves. Their phones were off, and it was getting late. By the time my father came home, panic had set in. The police said we had to wait until morning to file a missing person report, but none of us could sit still.

Then, a knock at the door.

We rushed to open it, expecting Laila's sheepish grin and some flimsy excuse. But what we saw froze us.

There she was, trembling, her face pale and streaked with tears. Blood soaked her dress, and bruises marred her arms. She collapsed into my mother's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Allen... he's gone."

Through broken cries, she told us the story. She'd asked to drive his car. She thought she could handle it. But she lost control and veered into a speeding truck. Allen didn't survive.

---

The next day, I was on my way to the interview. The streets were bustling, with people in suits waiting at the bus park for their rides. I stood among them until the bus arrived, and a few minutes later, I was at my destination.

A smile crept onto my face as I stared up at the building. "Write O' Well," I murmured, making my way inside.

The company was renowned as one of the best writing firms globally, both locally and internationally. Rumors swirled about its mysterious and eccentric owner, but I didn't care. Being invited to an interview here was an honor.

The building was massive, even larger on the inside. The reception area was packed with people in corporate attire, waiting anxiously. My confidence wavered momentarily, but I took a deep breath and approached the receptionist.

"Um, hi. I'm here for..."

"Interview. I know," she interrupted, not looking up as she scribbled in a book. "Find a seat in the crowd and wait for your turn."

I swallowed my irritation. Normally, I'd snap at anyone who spoke to me like that. But not today. I couldn't afford to lose my temper here. I took a deep breath , trying to make sure her behavior didn't get to me cause I needed the job. This wasn't my first interview, I've had series of them and got picked but never lasted because of my bad temper and I wasn't planning on losing this one.

I found a seat among the other applicants, stealing glances at their tense faces. One by one, they went in and came out looking crushed. My confidence wavered.

Finally, my name was called. I walked into the interview room with three other candidates, my heart beating.

"Please, have a seat," the female interviewer gestured politely.

We sat in a row of chairs facing three interviewers. As I lifted my gaze to meet them, my stomach dropped.

There he was.

Noah.

Our eyes locked, and a chill ran down my spine. He looked the same as ever-cold, unreadable. I began to feel uneasy but I tried my possible best to be well composed before the interview started.

The interview commenced, with the other interviewers asking questions. Noah, however, said nothing, his cold gaze fixed on me the entire time.

---

The interview ended, but the unease stayed with me as I stepped outside.

"Are you stalking me now?" Noah's voice rang out behind me.

"Why would I? You're not that important," I shot back.

"Then why are you here?"

"I came for a job interview. That's all there is to it."

"At my company?"

"Your company?" I echoed, stunned. Then I laughed.

"What's funny?" he asked, frowning.

"You? The owner of Write O' Well? Impossible. The company is owned by Mr. Alan-" My voice trailed off as realization hit me. "Oh my God," I whispered, backing away.

"Laura, wait!" he called, grabbing my arm.

"What?"

"We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

He pulled me closer, his hand sliding to my waist. His breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "I missed you."

His words sent a shiver down my spine. but I shoved him away.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

A chance to talk.

"Why?"

"Laura, please can we go somewhere private?"

I turned and walked off, but his gaze burned into me as I moved.

I stopped near a row of parked cars and turned to him with arms crossed. "Which one's yours?"

He smiled and walked past me. "Let's take the bus."

"What?"

Ignoring me, he kept walking. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

The bus was crowded, and we had to stand, holding onto the straps for balance. I glared at him, tempted to smack that smug grin off his face.

Ahead, I noticed a young woman looking uncomfortable with the man standing behind her. I leaned forward to see what was happening, ignoring Noah's raised eyebrow.

The man was pressing himself against the woman, whispering in her ear as she tried to evade him. Furious, I pushed through the crowd, grabbing him by the collar.

"What are you doing?" he yelled, but I didn't care. I punched him and slammed his head against a nearby seat.

"You pervert!" I shouted.

The man retaliated, pulling my hair. I screamed, but suddenly he crumpled to the floor. I turned to see Noah standing over him, wiping blood off his knuckles with a handkerchief.

"You didn't have to-"

"Save it," he interrupted, smirking.

The bus driver yelled, but we ignored him. The passengers stared as Noah and I stepped off the bus.

Once off the bus, The woman thanked us before hurrying away. I turned to Noah, crossing my arms.

"I could've handled it myself."

"Clearly."

"You're insufferable."

"And you're welcome," he said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes. "What do you want, Noah? Let's just get this over with."

"Out here? Don't you think we should grab a drink?"

"It's getting late. Wouldn't your wife be worried?"

He burst into laughter. "Wife?"

"What's funny?"

"I don't have a wife, Laura."

"Your girlfriend, then."

"Are you pretending to be mad just to find out if I have a love life?"

"What? No!"

"Then stop asking. Isn't your parents' restaurant across the street?"

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"I never stopped keeping track of you, Laura."

His words froze me in place, but he kept walking.

I followed him, my mind racing with questions. This wasn't over-not by a long shot.

The restaurant felt quieter than usual, with only a few high school girls seated in a corner booth. Their eyes lit up the moment Noah entered, their whispers barely contained.

"Is he a model?" one of them murmured.

"He's so handsome," another giggled.

"And tall," the third added, clearly mesmerized.

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk away just as my father burst into the restaurant, dressed in an oversized turkey mascot costume.

"Welcome, my esteemed..." he began dramatically, then froze upon seeing me. His shoulders slumped. "Oh, it's you, dear."

He yanked the mascot head off, revealing a sweaty face, but his expression shifted the moment his gaze landed on Noah. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Noah?" he exclaimed, rushing over to shake Noah's hand. "Oh my God, it is you! Honey, Laila, we have a special guest!"

"Dad?" I frowned, but he ignored me completely, gesturing for Noah to sit at one of the tables.

My mother and Laila rushed out from the kitchen, both looking concerned.

"Are you fighting with a customer again, Laura?" my mother scolded as she entered, glancing around. "Where's your father?"

"Is that-"

"Noah!" Laila squealed, rushing to hug him.

"It's Noah," my mom said, her eyes lighting up as she made her way over, practically glowing with excitement.

I felt completely invisible as they surrounded him, bombarding him with questions.

The high school girls, still sitting nearby, giggled loudly, their attention now on the scene.

"What are you three still doing here?" my mom suddenly snapped, her voice sharp.

The girls froze, hastily gathering their things and leaving. My mother turned back to Noah, her smile never wavering.

"I heard you left for the country," she said, still beaming at him.

"Yes, I did," Noah answered, his smile polite but distant.

"And how was it over there?" My mom leaned in, practically breathless with curiosity. "I remember the first time I left the country-it was a huge adjustment."

"Honey, you're asking too many questions," my dad chimed in, his tone light but firm. "Noah, how are your parents?"

"They're very well, thank you," Noah replied smoothly.

"Are they still together? There were rumors at the estate that your father was having an affair..."

"Mom!" I interjected, my face flushing with embarrassment.

They all turned to look at me, their expressions unreadable. Without waiting for an answer, I marched up to them and grabbed Noah by the arm.

"Come on, we're going upstairs," I muttered, dragging him away before anyone could stop me.

I could hear my mom whispering behind us. "Young love."

Once we were in my room, I released Noah and gestured to the bed.

"It's not fancy, but... make yourself comfortable," I said, trying to mask my frustration.

He chuckled softly. "Your parents are just as funny as I remember them."

Noah sat down, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the room carefully.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked, sitting beside him.

There was a long pause.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

"About what?" I asked, confused.

"I shouldn't have told you to stop calling me."

I blinked in surprise. "Is that what you wanted to say?"

"No," he sighed, his voice thick with emotion. "My mom... she passed away."

For a moment, the words hung in the air like a heavy fog. My mind went blank.

"What!" I whispered, my throat tight.

"She... she committed suicide," Noah muttered, his eyes avoiding mine.

The shock hit me like a punch to the stomach. I couldn't breathe.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I managed to whisper.

"I couldn't handle it, Laura," he said quietly. "I needed to be alone. That's why I asked you to stop calling. I didn't want to drag you into it."

I struggled to find my words. "I just... I just wish you'd told me."

I exhaled deeply, struggling to process his words. "Why?" I finally managed. "Why would she... but you told my parents they were fine."

"My dad wanted to keep it a secret."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said, shaking his head. "I just didn't want you to hate me."

"I don't hate you, Noah," I said softly. "I just... I wish you'd told me."

He turned his gaze to mine, a small, sincere smile crossing his face. "Can we... can we still hang out, like we used to?"

I smiled back, my heart heavy. "I guess so."

"Good," he said with a sigh of relief. "See you on Monday, then."

"Monday?" I echoed, confused. "What do you mean, Monday?"

"Nothing," he said, standing up abruptly. "I've got to get home."

I followed him downstairs, where my parents and Laila were still chatting at the counter.

"Noah, darling, are you leaving already?" my mom asked, her voice sweet as she hurried to meet him.

"Yes, he is," I interjected before he could respond.

"Won't you stay for dinner?" she asked, ignoring me completely.

"I have a lot to do at home, Mrs. Reuben," Noah said politely.

"Well, take this as a token," she said, pushing a takeout container into his hands. "And do come by anytime you're free."

Noah smiled, shaking hands with my dad and Laila, before heading out the door.

"See you on Monday," he said with a cryptic grin before walking toward a convertible parked nearby.

I stared, confused. "You keep saying Monday, is there another interview at the office?"

He didn't answer, just waved again and drove off.

Laila rushed out behind me and jumped on my back.

"He's cute, isn't he?"

"Did you see that?" I pointed toward the car, now out of sight.

"See what?"

"Never mind," I muttered, still trying to process what had just happened. "How was your date?"

"I didn't go," Laila replied, grinning mischievously.

"What? Why not?"

"I'll tell you later," she said, shoving me gently toward the restaurant. "But first, you've got to tell me everything about Noah."

As soon as we entered, my mom descended on me like a hawk.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home with Noah?"

"It wasn't planned," I said flatly. "We met at the interview."

"Interview?" my dad asked, setting some dishes on the table.

"Is he looking for a job? His parents are well-off," my mom said skeptically.

"Isn't he cute, Mother?" Laila giggled.

"Yes, he looks like a model, and he's gotten taller," my mom agreed.

"He reminds me of my youth," my dad said, placing a steaming pot in the center of the table.

We all stared at him in disbelief. My mom rolled her eyes and scoffed. My father-short, chubby, and perpetually out of breath-claiming to look like Noah in his youth? Impossible.

"Anyway," my mom began as we sat to eat, "Laura, you should date him."

I choked on my water. "What?"

"You heard me. You've never brought home a man, and you're getting older."

"She goes on blind dates," Laila said, trying to defend me.

"Still not good enough. You're twenty-six. No boyfriend, no kids, not even a job. At least Laila has one."

"I'll get a job soon, Mother."

"Sure. And lose it again because of your temper," she retorted.

"I got it from you."

"Mind your tongue, young lady. Mine doesn't erupt like a volcano. At your age, my mother was begging me to stop bringing men home."

"And yet you married Dad," I shot back.

"What's wrong with my husband? He's cute!" she said, patting his head affectionately.

"Oh, please, not at the table," I groaned.

"Don't be jealous. If Noah likes you, like him back. He's probably wealthier than his parents by now."

"Did you marry Dad for his money?" I asked bluntly.

"What!" she yelled.

"I'm just asking since you keep emphasizing Noah's wealth."

She scoffed angrily, stood abruptly, and stormed out.

"You shouldn't have said that," my dad sighed, following her.

I slumped in my chair, turning to Laila.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, stifling a laugh as she continued eating.

-----------

Saturday morning came, and the restaurant buzzed with activity. It was one of those chaotic but vibrant days, the kind where the air was thick with the smell of grilled meat, sizzling spices, and the chatter of busy customers. I walked in to assist, knowing Laila would need to leave soon for work in the afternoon.

"Laila, please tell Laura to attend to the couple at the corner," my mother said, striding past me without a glance.

"You know I'm right here, don't you?" I said, my voice laced with irritation. She didn't even flinch, simply continued on her path toward the kitchen.

I guessed she was still mad about last night, but I didn't care. She had no right to interfere in my love life. I get to be the one to decide who I want to date.

Ignoring her, I made my way toward the table where a young couple sat. They were giggling and whispering to each other like they were the only two people in the room.

"Your order, please," I said, trying to mask the annoyance in my tone.

"Oh, um... honey, baby, what should we order?" The man said to his girlfriend.

"I don't know, honey baby. What should we order?" she replied, fluttering her lashes.

"No idea, honey baby," he said, smirking.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Should I come back after you two decide what to order?" I asked, my patience wearing thin.

Before I could leave, a sudden slam echoed through the restaurant. The man slammed his hand onto the table.

"Are you trying to say my girlfriend here doesn't know how to make decisions?" he sneered.

"What?"

"Is this how you treat your customers?" he added, his voice rising.

I felt a rush of heat in my chest, my temper on the verge of exploding, but before I could respond, Laila appeared, stepping between us with a calm demeanor.

"So sorry, sir," she said, giving me a pointed look. "I'll take your order."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the man had already turned away.

"I'm not hungry anymore," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Come on, honey baby, let's get out of here."

Just as they were about to leave, the girlfriend turned back to Laila. "Wait a minute... aren't you Laila? The one who-" she paused dramatically, then sneered, "pushed her boyfriend in front of a truck?"

"What a small world". She dropped out of college after killing the poor lad. "No wonder this place smelled like a graveyard," the man said, laughing along with his girlfriend.

The words hit like a slap to the face. The restaurant fell silent. Eyes turned in our direction, the air growing thick with tension. I felt my blood boil, and before I could stop myself, I stormed up to the girl and grabbed her hair.

"Hey! What the hell-" she started, but I didn't care. My anger boiled over.

I kicked her boyfriend in the groin and slammed his head against the table. Blood spurted, staining the white napkins, and a collective gasp echoed around the room. The girl shrieked in horror when she saw the blood splatter on her clothes.

"Don't you ever come here and talk down on my family!" I screamed, my voice harsh and venomous.

"You fucking pieces of shit! My sister is not a murderer! And if you ever come back here, I'll make sure you meet your early graves!"

My parents, appearing from the back, grabbed me, trying to pull me away, but I shoved them aside. I didn't care. The couple scrambled to their feet, fleeing the restaurant in fear.

The room remained silent, the eyes of the customers all on me, murmuring among themselves. But just as the tension reached its peak, a tall, handsome man dressed in an expensive black tuxedo stood up.

He clapped slowly, the sound echoing through the room like a thunderclap. His emerald eyes glinted with a mysterious gleam as he made his way toward us. His presence was magnetic, almost unnerving, as if he were the kind of man you didn't want to mess with.

"Excellent show," he said, his deep voice laced with an Italian accent, as he approached my parents.

My mother seemed to forget the conflict between us in an instant. She giggled and reached out to shake his hand, but he didn't take it. Instead, his gaze locked onto me, and for a brief moment, I felt a chill run down my spine as he smiled, a cold, enigmatic expression.

"I'll be taking my leave now," he said, his voice calm. Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving the restaurant in a stunned silence.

The customers soon changed their attention to the strange man. They all looked at him in admiration as he drove off, and then went back to their seats and continued eating.

"Who was that?" my father asked, snapping me out of my trance.

"I don't know," my mother replied, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "But he's a regular here."

The atmosphere seemed different, and it felt as if he wiped their memories and left. I ignored my thoughts and made my way back into my room to see Laila. I got to the door and knocked a few times before she opened it. Her eyes had swollen from the tears.

Are you good?" I asked softly.

"Yeah. I'm going back downstairs to help mom and dad," she replied, her voice hoarse.

"You can't go like this," I said, walking into the room. I could see the weight of her guilt still hanging over her, thick and suffocating.

"I don't want to talk about it, Laura. I just need something to clear my thoughts."

"Alcohol should do the trick," I said with a grin.

She laughed lightly, the sound fragile, and I bent down to pull out an old, dusty bottle from under her bed.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, staring at the bottle.

"Felt like it might come in handy one day," I said, dusting it off and uncorking it. "Look, it did."

"Cup?" I asked, holding it out to her.

"We share?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Take it as a compliment that you're the first to try it with me."

I took a swig and handed it to her. She followed suit, and the burn of the alcohol hit both of us, its sharpness numbing the tension.

"You know, Laura, sometimes I feel like I'm the one to blame for what happened to Allen," she said, her voice trembling as she passed the bottle back to me.

"It's not your fault, Laila," I said quietly, my heart aching for her.

"I shouldn't have driven. If I hadn't, he'd still be alive," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"I know. But you have to learn to forgive yourself. If you don't, you won't find peace. You've punished yourself enough."

She took a large gulp and made a disgusted look on her face.

"It's been 6 years, Laila. You never dated. Didn't have sex. You even dropped out of college. If you look at it, it's enough punishment for me."

"Probably," she said and handed me the bottle. "Are you and Noah keeping in touch?"

"Not really. He hasn't sent me an SMS since then."

"SMS?"

"Hmm, hmm."

"Oh, you innocent Laura," she laughed. "You need to download a social app, people don't use SMS anymore, you're so behind the times."

"Whatever," I said, drinking from the bottle. "I'm kinda glad he apologized to me."

"Did he state his reasons?"

"Yeah, his mother died."

"No way, Mrs. Alan?"

"Yup."

"That's awful. How?"

"Promise you won't tell Mom or Dad?"

"Come on, you know me better than this. But he said his parents were fine the other day."

"Yeah, he did. I found it hard to believe, because it wasn't said on the news either."

"I guess that's the power of being rich."

"My dad never did stuff like that."

"Your dad isn't a congressman like Noah's."

"You're right, but why would they keep something like that?"

"Probably he didn't want anything to interfere with his reputation. You know how politicians are."

"Yeah, you're right. But only God knows why she would take her own life."

"Wait, she did?" Laila's eyes widened.

"Yeah. Suicide."

"I feel bad for him. He really loved his mother."

"Yeah. So, I guess I understand why he ghosted me that way back in high school," I said, shrugging.

"Any news yet from the interview you had?" Laila asked, curiosity evident in her tone.

"Nope, nothing yet," I replied with a sigh.

"You'll get it. I'm sure of it. Just don't get sacked because of your temper," she teased, handing me a drink.

Laila took the bottle and drank from it. Suddenly, my phone beeped. A text message had come in. I picked up my phone to read the message, and a wide smile spread across my face as I absorbed the content.

"Laila, I guess I'll be resuming work on Monday morning," I announced, unable to hide my excitement.

"No kidding?"

I placed the screen of my phone in front of her face so she could read the message. She let out an excited shout.

"Shhh, Laila!" I said, laughing as I tried to lower my voice.

"I'm sorry! I got carried away. We need to celebrate this!"

"At where?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The club!"

"You're not opening the bar today?"

"Nah, I was even thinking of hiring someone to work there in my absence," she said, finishing her drink and handing me the empty bottle.

"You lazy girl," I teased, tipping the empty bottle upside down into my mouth, trying to catch any last drops.

"So, what are you saying? Are we heading out?"

I sighed, unable to resist her enthusiasm. "Oh, alright."

"Yippee!" she shouted, running off to get dressed.

As I sat there waiting, the image of the man from earlier flashed in my mind. There was something about him-his mysterious demeanor-that made me feel an almost overwhelming urge to uncover who he was and why he seemed so enigmatic.