A night with Mike

Rebecca’s POV

Mike was something else—he completely surprised me tonight. I had always known him as the serious, book-smart type. I assumed he was strict, always focused on his academics and barely had time for anything else. But tonight? Tonight changed that perception completely.

He was warm, funny, and surprisingly relaxed. In fact, he had gone out of his way to prepare dinner for us. “Rebecca, here is your food,” he said with a smile as he gently placed a plate in front of me. My heart melted a little.

What a gentleman, I thought to myself, watching him move around the kitchen like he belonged there. The food was delicious, and as we sat together, talking and laughing like old friends, I felt something I hadn’t in a long while—peace. Comfort. It felt good to have company, especially since Nica wasn't around today.

The evening flew by in a blur of lighthearted jokes, shared memories, and laughter that made my cheeks ache. I didn’t even realize it was past midnight until I glanced at the clock.

That’s when my heart gave a little jolt.

All this time… and Carlos hadn’t even texted goodnight. It was so unlike him. He always messaged me, no matter how busy he was. A sudden worry crept in.

“Babe, are you alright?” I texted him, my fingers trembling slightly. I didn’t want to call with Mike around. Even though there was nothing romantic between us, I still felt it would be awkward.

His reply came almost instantly. “I’m ok, just studying hun. Sorry I haven’t texted today.”

A wave of relief washed over me, and a soft smile tugged at my lips. He was okay.

“Don’t worry, babe. I understand. I’ll call you later. I miss your voice.” I replied, still smiling down at my phone.

When I looked up, I noticed Mike staring at me. Something in his eyes had shifted. The lightness in our conversation earlier had faded. His expression had grown unreadable—distant even.

“I’ll be going now. I have to study, Rebecca,” he said, rising to his feet a little too quickly.

I stared at him, puzzled. The sudden change in his mood stung a little. Maybe he regretted spending the evening with me. Maybe he thought I didn’t value our time together just because I texted Carlos. But it was already late—maybe he really was just tired.

“It’s okay, Mike. There’s no problem. It’s late already, so it's better to go. Thanks for the company anyway,” I replied, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.

But I was angry. Angry at him for shutting me out so fast… and angry at myself for caring this much. “Stop it, Rebecca,” I whispered under my breath as I got up to open the door for him.

“Goodnight, Mike. See you on Monday,” I said, my tone now neutral.

But instead of leaving, Mike suddenly stepped closer and pulled me into a tight hug—so tight it caught me off guard. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel it… his arousal. I froze.

“Mike… you better go,” I said softly, startled by the intimacy of the moment.

“I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” he mumbled before turning around and finally walking out.

Guilt washed over me almost immediately. What have I done? Mike was always kind to me, respectful and generous. He had never crossed the line before. Did I lead him on? I couldn’t bear the thought of losing his friendship. He helped me so much. I truly valued what we had.

I closed the door behind him with a heavy heart.

Before I could even sit down and collect myself, a knock echoed from the door. My heart skipped. Maybe it’s Mike again, I thought. Maybe he wanted to explain, or apologize again.

But a familiar, loud voice came from outside.

“Rebecca! Can you please open the door for me, please!” a woman shouted. I instantly recognized the slurred speech—it was Nica. Drunk.

I opened the door to find her barefoot, her shoes dangling from one hand, and her purse swinging in the other. Her makeup was smudged and her eyes sleepy.

“Oh Nica, what are you doing here at this hour? And where are you coming from?” I asked, though I knew it was useless. From the look of her, she had clearly partied hard.

She just gave me a sleepy, silly grin and stumbled past me. I caught a whiff of alcohol—she reeked of it.

I guided her to the sofa, where she collapsed almost instantly and passed out. She was a complete mess. But I knew trying to talk to her now was pointless. I’d ask for details in the morning when she was sober enough to answer.

As I sat down, I remembered Carlos—I hadn’t finished texting him. I picked up my phone and saw that he had texted again about twenty minutes ago.

I felt bad for leaving him waiting, so instead of replying, I dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hey hun, how are you doing? I miss you,” his voice came through warmly, and just hearing him made my heart ache.

“I’m fine, babe. I miss you more. I just want to see you. It’s been so long,” I replied, longing filling my voice.

I stepped outside, not wanting to disturb Nica while she slept. As I walked out, I was shocked to see Mike still seated outside, looking lost in thought.

“Mike? What are you still doing here?” I asked gently, concerned.

He looked up, startled. I saw sadness and sincerity in his eyes—a side of him I wasn’t used to.

“Sorry, Rebecca. I didn’t want to leave without apologizing to you properly. I was waiting for you to come out so I could talk to you. I thought maybe you had someone with you inside,” he said, his voice quiet.

“Oh, that’s just my friend Nica. And please, Mike… don’t worry about me. I’m okay. Nothing happened, and I completely understand. So… I forgive you,” I assured him softly.

His face relaxed, a smile spreading across his lips. Then he leaned forward and gave me a light peck on the cheek.

“See you then. Goodnight,” he said warmly.

“Goodnight too, Mike. Text me when you get there safely,” I called after him.

I stood there quietly, watching him walk away until he disappeared into the night.

Mike’s POV

I wasn’t even sure why I offered to cook dinner for Rebecca that evening. Maybe it was just my way of spending time with her—doing something special. She had looked tired, and I wanted to be useful. But mostly, I just wanted to be near her.

Being with her made me forget all about books, lectures, and deadlines. Around Rebecca, I wasn’t the “always serious Mike” that everyone knew. I could laugh, loosen up, just be myself.

As we ate and shared stories, her laughter warmed my heart. I didn’t even realize how late it had gotten until I noticed her glancing at her phone. Suddenly, her mood changed.

She texted someone—and when she read the reply, she smiled.

That smile didn’t belong to me.

I knew it in my gut. It had to be her boyfriend. I shouldn’t have let it bother me, but jealousy wrapped around my heart like a vice.

I needed to leave. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t care.

“I’ll be going now. I have to study, Rebecca,” I told her. But what I really meant was—I can’t take watching you love someone else.

She hesitated for a second, but then said, “It’s okay Mike. There’s no problem. Thanks for the company.”

She stood up and walked me to the door.

Please tell me to stay, I silently begged her. But she didn’t.

As she opened the door and wished me goodnight, something in me snapped. I hugged her. Tightly. My emotions overwhelmed me, and my body betrayed me. I could feel myself reacting physically to the closeness, and I knew I had crossed a line.

“Mike… you better go,” she said softly.

Guilt hit me instantly. “I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” I mumbled and left quickly.

But I couldn’t go far. I sat outside, leaning against the wall. I knew I had messed up, and I couldn’t let it end like that. I needed to make things right.

I waited, hoping she’d come out—even if it meant sitting there all night.

Then I saw another girl arrive—her friend, I assumed. I stayed put.

Finally, Rebecca came out, talking on the phone. The moment she saw me, she hung up and walked over.

“Mike, what are you still doing here?” she asked, her voice gentle.

I told her everything—that I didn’t want to leave things the way they were. And when she said she forgave me, my heart soared. Maybe… just maybe, she still saw me as someone worth keeping in her life.

I leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, Rebecca.”

“Goodnight too, Mike. Text me when you’re there,” she replied.

As I walked away, her words echoed in my heart.

Maybe she cared for me after all—maybe not the way I wanted yet, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.