Chapter 6: The Unlikely Reunion

Shirley’s POV:

I never imagined our paths would cross like this.

William and I… We used to be rivals. We used to fight for the top spot in everything. I remember the fierce competitions, the endless late nights spent studying, the tension in the air when the results were announced. Every time, it was either him or me—never anyone else.

Back in college, it was always a race. The final exams, the coding competitions, the debates in class—everything was a contest. And in every contest, William was there, challenging me at every turn. He had that cocky smile, the one that seemed to say, I'm going to win, no matter what.

I can still hear the sound of his voice when we faced off during that programming competition. "You're good, Shirley," he had said, his eyes glinting with that competitive spark. "But I'm better." And just like that, the game was on.

In the middle of the final coding challenge, my hands were shaking, the clock ticking down faster than I could think. William was calm as ever, his fingers flying across the keyboard, like he was born for this. I remember glancing at him for a split second—his face lit by the glow of the screen—and thinking to myself, I'm going to beat him. I have to.

But I didn't.

He won that day. And even though I had worked so hard, even though I had stayed up countless nights perfecting my code, it wasn't enough. William finished first, his smug grin spreading across his face as the announcer called his name. "William, first place."

I was second. But in that moment, second place felt like a lifetime away from first. It felt like a failure.

Years have passed, and now, here I am. I hear about William every now and then—how his tech company is booming, how he's become one of the most influential people in the industry. People still talk about him. He's successful, he's brilliant, he's got everything together.

And me? Well… I ended up here, in this life. Married. A mother. A housewife.

If someone had told me years ago that this would be my future, I would have laughed in their face.

But today, as I stand here, I realize how far apart we've become. I look at him across the room—calm, confident, the same sharp gaze that once challenged me in every way—and I feel it, that stark difference between us.

He's achieved everything. And I? I've lost so much.

I remember how things used to be. The way we would argue over the smallest details, each of us trying to outdo the other. The way our classmates would watch with bated breath as we pushed each other to be better. We were unstoppable then, both of us. We had dreams, ambitions, fire.

But now?

Now, I'm here, standing in this dull room, surrounded by the remnants of a life I barely recognize. I married Steven, thinking I was building the life I wanted. A family, stability, happiness. But all it took was one betrayal, one mistake, and now look at me. A woman trapped in her own home, trying to hold everything together while my world slowly crumbles.

And then there's William, standing there as if nothing has changed. As if we're still the same people we once were, competing side by side. I wonder if he's even thought about me all these years. Has he wondered what happened to me, or has he moved on, like everyone else?

Has he really forgotten me?

But the hardest part, the part that stings more than anything, is this: I realize now how much time I've wasted. All these years spent in this... marriage, trying to make it work, trying to convince myself that it was enough. I built a life around Steven, around this house, around the illusion of a perfect family. But all of it, all of it feels so meaningless now.

If I had just kept pushing, kept fighting for my own dreams, for the person I used to be... Would things have turned out differently?

I look at William again, and for the first time in years, I'm reminded of that fire—the fire that used to burn inside me. The fire that made me want to be the best, that made me want to take on the world. And suddenly, I'm not so sure about everything I've given up.

I can't help but feel like I've let too much slip through my fingers.