Unforeseen Instances

One evening, during the restaurant's evening rush, Briana weaved between tables, balancing a tray stacked with orders. It was a holiday, so the restaurant was crowded with many patrons. The smell of expensive cologne was almost overwhelming; she sniffed as she walked by a table with a powerful scent.

'I might be allergic to something here,' she thought, blinking the water coming out of her smarting eyes.

A sudden collision sent the tray crashing to the ground, plates and drinks clattering loudly. Gasps echoed through the room as patrons turned toward the commotion.

Heat flooded her cheeks; humiliation surged as the entire restaurant fell into a tense silence. She felt the icy stares and condescending comments, and heard the stifled laughter; it cut deeper than the shards on the floor.

"Out of the way, clumsy!" a customer sneered, stepping over the mess without a glance.

Her hands shook as she scrambled to clean up. Tears welled up in her eyes; she felt insignificant, her pride shattered alongside the broken dishes.

A colleague came to help her with the broken dishes while another mopped up the mess.

She could see her boss's face from across the room.

Fuck, she thought, she was definitely going to get torn into today.

"Briana, you're bleeding! Go get your hand checked."

"Yeah, we'll take care of it, OK?"

Later, in the break room, her boss, Mr. Granger, was waiting, his face filled with disapproval.

"What the hell was that, Summers?" he barked, his voice sharp and demanding.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir. It was an accident. I'll clean it up," she stuttered, her cheeks burning.

"Cleaning won't fix this," Mr. Granger snapped. "You're a liability. You're done here."

Her heart plummeted. "Please, Mr. Granger, I have a son to support. I'll do better," she pleaded, desperation seeping into her voice.

"Promises won't undo this mess," he retorted coldly, sealing her fate.

Panic squeezed her chest as she packed her belongings, and her bleeding hands stung. Tears blurred her vision. Her dignity was bruised, and her future was uncertain.

She stopped by the emergency room to check her hands and have them bandaged.

She cried all the way home, her head aching. She paced back and forth in her cramped apartment; once again, Jayden's business card burned a hole in her mind. She had tossed it onto the table when she got home, hoping to ignore it, but it taunted her, teasing her with an offer that could change everything.

"I can't do this," she muttered, her steps quickening in agitation. She toyed with her phone, contemplating whether to call. She no longer had a job. How would she keep up?

Hell, I don't know if he'll want me back after all that. What was the guarantee he hasn't given someone else the job?

Her mind conjured up desperate excuses to avoid Jayden.

Her finger hovered over the "call" button, then hesitated, pulling back. Guilt gnawed at her—backing out of commitment wasn’t her style. But Leo's picture on the mantelpiece kept prickling her consciousness.

"I can't let Leo down," she whispered. I'll look for another job and take four if necessary.

Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes, bracing herself for what lay ahead. This meeting with Jayden could be a mistake or a leap of faith. But for Leo, she'd go to any length. With a drained sigh, she pocketed the card and went to get Leo from Sophie's. Heaven knew she'd need all her strength for this job hunt.

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That evening, while preparing dinner, Leo suddenly fell ill. His fever spiked overnight and continued to worsen. Frantic, she rushed him to the hospital, where they discovered a severe infection that required immediate treatment.

She sat by Leo's hospital bed in the sterile, lit room. Watching him sleep fitfully, hooked up to machines and monitors, her resolve crumbled.

Why is this happening today of all days?

Her bandaged hands pulsed with dull pain as she tried to massage her aching head.

Looking at him, so small and vulnerable, made her realise she couldn't do it alone. She had been managing, but now, faced with her child's health crisis, she needed help—not for herself, but for Leo.

As she gazed at his pale face, she questioned every decision that led to this moment. Had her pride caused this? If she had just accepted Jayden's offer earlier, would Leo be in this condition?

In desperation, she pulled out her phone and dialled Jayden's number. Her finger trembled as she waited for him to pick up. She knew when to admit defeat. She needed his help, and for the sake of her child, she was willing to set aside her pride.

The call connected after what seemed like an eternity, and Jayden's voice, calm yet tinged with curiosity, filled her ear.

"Briana? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

A sob escaped her, betraying her distress. Was she really doing this?

"Briana, are you crying? Where are you?" His tone shifted from poised to concerned; she could hear fabric rustling in the background.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," she forced out between shuddering breaths. "Is the job still available?"

There was a pause, and his response was cautious and measured.

"Ria, answer me. Where are you?"

"Fuck! It's nothing! Why do you care? Is the job open or not?!" she shouted, scrubbing her face harshly.

Leo shifted in bed, and she hastily turned to face him. Did she wake him?

There was silence on the line, and for a moment, she thought he had hung up.

"Jay—"

"Yes, come by my office tomorrow, let's talk."

"I'll be there," her heart felt like it fell to the ground, and she stroked Leo's soft curls.

"Fuck. Don't worry. I'll be there on time."

As the call ended, she turned fully to Leo and stroked his short curls gently. This call gave her a mix of relief and fear. She had made the difficult decision to reach out to Jayden, and now their paths were about to meet again, unintentionally, due to the shared well-being of their child.

Sitting there, absorbing the room's silence, her thoughts swirled. Would Jayden really help? Could she trust him after all that had transpired between them? The possibility of facing him, of reopening those old wounds, filled her with apprehension.