I saw him.
And Jessica.
His hand was wrapped around her waist as they walked past me—like I didn't exist.
So the call…
It was about her.
He abandoned me for her.
But still—
a part of me refused to believe it.
They walked closer, completely lost in each other.
Jessica clung to his arm, laughing softly.
He didn't even spare me a glance.
I turned to leave.
But my foot hit the edge of a table.
Everything happened too fast.
The loud crash.
The pain.
The floor.
The sound finally got his attention.
He turned.
And saw me.
I was on the ground, bruised, struggling to stand.
I tried to get up…
but my leg gave way, dragging me back down.
He just stood there.
Watching.
"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly.
Angrily.
Before I could respond, someone rushed toward me.
The cake guy.
He helped me up gently, his hands steady, careful.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, filled with concern.
"You should be careful," he added, picking up my bag from the floor.
For a moment—
someone cared.
Then Jessica laughed.
"Oh please," she said mockingly. "Maybe she's here to flirt with another man."
She folded her arms.
"So fake. What could possibly make her fall? She's just trying to get your attention."
I felt the humiliation burn through me.
His expression darkened.
Not because I was hurt—
but because another man was holding me.
"So this is who you are?" he snapped.
"Cheap enough to go for any man and let them touch you?"
His voice was loud.
Harsh.
"Marthins…" I called his name.
He froze.
Shocked.
I had never called him that before.
"How can you say that," I continued, my voice shaking, "when you're holding another woman?"
Everywhere became Silent
"I fell because I tripped—not because I wanted your attention."
I swallowed hard.
"I was here because…"
My voice broke.
"Because today is my birthday."
Jessica smirked.
"I came to get a cake for myself," I said, tears finally falling, "to celebrate alone… since I can't celebrate it with you."
My chest tightened.
"You left me. You abandoned me without explanation. You almost got me killed with something I'm allergic to…"
I looked straight at him.
"And you're calling me cheap?"
"Oh please, stop," Jessica cut in. "She's just trying to manipulate you."
I smiled bitterly and nodded.
He suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me closer.
"Stop embarrassing me in public," he said through clenched teeth. "Go home. Don't make this harder."
Harder?
"I'll make it up to you," he added quickly. "But right now, I need to get Jessica a birthday cake. So leave."
Then he pushed me away.
He turned to the cake guy.
"Get back to your work and stop meddling in other people's business—unless you want to lose this job."
Fear gripped me.
Because he could do it.
He had power.
Connections.
I quickly turned to the guy.
"It's okay," I said softly. "Please… don't worry about me."
He just smiled.
Calm.
Unshaken.
"He can't do anything to me," he said quietly. "Let me walk you out."
Behind us, I could feel Marthins' anger rising.
But Jessica held his arm.
"Let's go," she said sweetly. "We still need to get my cake—and go shopping."
I didn't look back.
Outside, I turned to him.
"Thank you… sir."
He shook his head slightly.
"Call me Thompson."
The name felt familiar.
But I couldn't place it.
"Thank you, Thompson," I said, shaking his hand before waving goodbye.
He booked a ride for me.
And I left.
The Next Morning
A knock on my door woke me up.
I dragged myself out of bed.
"Who is it?" I asked tiredly.
I checked.
And my heart sank.
Marthins.
Holding a bouquet of red roses.
I opened the door.
The moment he stepped in,
I sneezed.
"I got this for you," he said, smiling as he handed me the flowers.
"I'm allergic to red roses," I replied flatly.
"That's your ex's favorite. Mine is blue."
"Oh… sorry. I forgot," he said casually, placing them aside.
Of course you did.
"What do you actually remember about me?" I asked, folding my arms. "Do you even know my name?"
"Of course, Jessi—"
He stopped.
Stuttered.
"I mean… Agnes."
I laughed softly.
Not because it was funny.
But because it hurt too much.
"Don't be like this," he said. "I know I forgot your birthday, but it's not my fault. You didn't remind me."
"Wow," I whispered. "Nice one."
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"I want to make it up to you," he said quickly. "Agnes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
His apology felt empty.
Like something rehearsed.
Not real.
"Please forgive me," he continued. "I'll organize a party for you the day after tomorrow. I'll send you a dress and shoes. Just… come."
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
Maybe…
just maybe…
this was his last chance.
He smiled, pulled me into a hug, and kissed my forehead before leaving.
The moment the door closed
I wiped it off.
I leaned against the door, confused.
Lost in my thoughts.
Why can't I let him go?
Why do I still feel like there's hope?
A knock interrupted me.
A delivery.
From him.
I opened the package and I saw a plain dress with
Shoes that weren't even my size.
And a note:
I'll be expecting you, baby.
I stared at it.
Then I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
But because it was ridiculous.
I laughed until I dropped to the floor.
Then I went quiet.
Staring at the things in front of me.
My phone buzzed.
I hope you like it. I can't wait to see how beautiful you'll look in it.
I looked at the dress again.
Plain.
Not me.
I never liked plain clothes.
I only started wearing them because of him.
Somewhere along the way…
I stopped being myself.
And that's when it hit me.
I stood up slowly.
No more.
This time,
I was going to make things right ….