3

The door burst open, revealing a woman in her mid fifties with short brown hair. She was adorned in diamonds and her eyes held a disdainful stare that any condescending rich woman would have.

The woman's brown eyes fell on Wynn, eyeing her from top to bottom.

[Don't let me poke your eyes, madam.] Wynn snapped, eyeing her back.

The woman strutted off without another glance, and Wynn rolled her eyes.

She looked at the door, hesitant to knock. Letting out a sigh, she knocked and walked in.

Ethan had his back turned to her as he quickly put on a nose mask. He turned around, and she could see a little of the imprint the woman left on him peeking from behind the black mask.

"Wynn?"

Wynn felt her self-control crack like a piñata at a toddler’s birthday party.

[Did this jerk just call me by my name?]

"You're just the person I wanted to see." He added, smiling behind the mask.

[Should I just rip his tongue out?] Wynn battled internally.

She maintained the curt smile on her face, then placed the resignation letter on his table.

Ethan's face changed when he looked at it, already aware of its contents. His gaze shifted to Wynn, then he let out a sigh.

"Are you running away?"

Wynn bit down on her tongue to stop the venomous words that threatened to spill. She didn't speak. She simply kept her eyes on him, daring him to ignore the letter for two more seconds.

She watched him grab it, then rip it apart.

[Well, that was mature. Next, maybe you can light it on fire and I'll burn you alive with it.]

"This just further proves that you recognise me." He shrugged. "I won't let you run away, Wynn."

"I would appreciate it if you addressed me as Miss Mayfield, Mr. Sterling." Wynn snapped, a warning glare flickering in her eyes.

Ethan blinked, caught off guard.

"And I've decided to work for another company, that is why I'll need my resignation processed as soon as possible."

Ethan nodded, deciding to go along with her charade.

"I see." He breathed. "That's too bad- for the company. I'm not letting you go, so you should turn them down."

"It is my choice to decide where I work, Mr. Sterling."

"I agree, but we both know this isn't your choice. So, I'm doing you a favor by rejecting it."

"This letter serves as formal notice of my resignation, Mr. Sterling. My final working day will be on June 20th 2025, regardless of your objection."

And with that, she left.

•••

Wynn sat at her usual Café- the perfect spot for some alone time as it was the farthest Café from the company- with her laptop, sorting some things out for the design team prior to her departure in a week.

When all of a sudden, she heard the agitating, fist swinging voice of Ethan Sterling behind her:

"Can we talk?" He sat across from her.

Wynn groaned internally, then closed her laptop- packing her things up so she could flee from what seemed to be a living, breathing ticket to life in prison.

"Do you hate me that much?" He asked, and she unconsciously shot him a death glare.

She knew by now that he could tell she was putting on an act. Even so, how could he be so bold when he made her last year in highschool hell?

She paid for her order at the counter, waving Lucas- the manger and owner- goodbye, then exiting the Café.

Ethan followed after her and held her back.

Wynn immediately pulled free from his hold, taking a few steps back and shooting him a glare.

"What is wrong with you?!"

"I'm sorry." His brows drew together. "I didn't mean to. I just want to talk to you for ten- no- five minutes."

"We have nothing to talk about, Mr. Sterling."

"You don't. But, I do." He said, his eyes begging.

Wynn stared at him, then sighed- stifling a groan.

"You have ten seconds."

"Wait, what?"

"Eight seconds left."

"That's not enough-"

"Six."

Ethan paused, then swallowed.

"Three, two, one-"

"Have dinner with me." Ethan said, and silence floated by them like a cloud.

[Did I hear him right?]

"What?" Wynn blinked.

"Have dinner with me, Wynn."

And that was it. Her piñata sized patience was finally cracked open, but what fell out was the farthest thing from candy.

She scoffed in disbelief. Then, she began to chuckle. Her chuckle gradually turned into a laugh, and soon she was clutching her stomach, laughing out loud like she just heard the best joke of her life. Because it was.

[Dinner? DINNER?!! THIS PARASITE!]

"Oi, Ethan." She called, lightly scratching between her brows. "Do you want to die?"

Ethan smiled. "It's nice to hear you call my name."

"And I'll write it on your grave too." She snapped, a deranged look in her eyes. "Dinner? You want us to have dinner? If I could stand being in the same room as you, I'd shove a drumstick down your throat and watch you gasp for air till you die, you glorified jerk."

Ethan blinked, more impressed with her outburst than he was offended. She really did change after ten years. A lot about her was different, and he liked it.

"Don't freaking show your face to me at work or I'll gladly build witnesses for your murder, you creepy nutcase."

She walked away after one last glare, and Ethan couldn't bring himself to go after her.

[She's...kinda scary though.]

•••

"He ripped up your letter?!" Caelyn exclaimed.

"Girl, I *cannot* tell this story over the phone. It's too much to unpack." Wynn sighed, grabbing a soda from her fridge.

"I can tell." Caelyn replied. "Since it's weekend, I'll come by your place in the morning."

"Please get me one or two stress balls on your way."

"Got it. I will get you ten stress balls on my way."

"You're the world's best friend." Wynn pouted.

She ended the call, and just then, someone knocked on her door.

Searching her memories to recall if she ordered Takeout, Wynn made it to the door, then opened it- half expecting to see a delivery guy who got the wrong apartment number.

Her eyes widened.

[What the heck am I looking at?]

Right in front of her. At her apartment. On her door step. Ethan stood holding a box of pizza with a note on it reading;

'I hope we get along, neighbour.'

[Is this a joke?]