THE UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER

If you had told high school me that one day I’d be living in my own apartment, designing clothes for actual clients, and eating brunch with my best friend in Paris—I would’ve laughed in your face.

But here I am.

Living it.

I have my dream job. I’m a fashion designer. I’ve worked my way up, sketch by sketch, stitch by stitch. My love life? Still non-existent—but for the first time in forever, I’m okay with that. I’ve found happiness in the life I’ve built. Peace in the silence. Fulfillment in creating.

It took me a while to get here—especially after Tyrone.

He’s engaged now. To a beautiful, intelligent, rich, and (let’s be honest) spoiled woman. And when I found out? That’s when I finally let go.

I gave up on the idea of us.

I stopped waiting for a text, a sign, a miracle.

And I started listening to my best friend. Sasha always told me I deserved more. That I was worth more. That being treated like I didn’t matter wasn’t love—it was emotional scraps. And she was right. I deserved so much better than what that man could ever give me.

It’s been six months since I last saw Tyrone. And those six months? They’ve been peaceful. He became a memory I didn’t reach for anymore. I moved on, or at least, I convinced myself I had.

But Then Came That Night.

One of our old classmates threw a party. I almost didn’t go, but Sasha begged me—said I needed a night out. What I didn’t expect was to see him there.

Tyrone.

Of course he was laughing, surrounded by people, holding his fiancée’s waist like she was everything. I said hi. Just a polite, quiet hi.

He said, “It’s been a while.”

I said, “Yeah, it has.”

And suddenly—everything I buried came back like a punch to the chest.

The memories. The hope I used to carry. The feelings I thought I’d forgotten.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

The room felt smaller. The air too thick. I smiled, excused myself, and left quickly—trying to make it seem casual when inside, I was breaking again.

Then Came Derek.

While I was walking (read: running) out of that suffocating party, I bumped into someone. Hard. My bag fell, everything spilled, and I dropped to the floor in a panic, trying to pick it all up before the tears in my eyes gave me away.

Then I saw him—kneeling beside me, helping me collect my things.

Derek.

Now known as Mr. Derek, CEO of the biggest company in Denver City.

Apparently, while I was obsessing over Tyrone, he was building an empire.

And apparently, he remembered me.

“Are you okay, Kiki?” he asked.

He said my name.

I was stunned. In high school, we never spoke. I didn’t even think he knew I existed.

I gave him a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

But he didn’t buy it.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly.

I tried to laugh it off. “Allergies,” I said, forcing a grin.