Mr. Badass ✔

23 Go back to just boss and employee

Gemma's POV.

When I open my eyes, I see mom sitting by the bed.

"The young guy at the door has been waiting for you," mmom says softly. "Do you want to go out and talk to him?"

I sit up. "Mom, how did you know—"

"You're my daughter. You came back so suddenly, I knew something was off. But if there's something you don't want to talk about, I won't push you."

It's already the afternoon.

I stay silent for a few seconds before saying, "Mom, why do my relationships always fail?"

"Because no one succeeds so easily. The door to happiness—you have to knock a few times before it opens."

"What if I never find happiness?"

"Then love yourself. Love your family, your friends. No one said only a partner can make you happy." Mom gently strokes my back, just like when I was little, and she would soothe me after I ate too much and felt bloated.

I wrap my arms around her waist. "That guy at the door hurt me."

"So, you don't want to see him?"

"Yeah."

Mom picks up a brush and starts combing my hair. "Do you remember when you broke the TV screen as a child and were too scared to come home?"

"Of course. You and Dad searched for me for ages."

"And what did I tell you?"

"No matter what happens, no matter how bad things get, running away is never the solution."

Mom smiles. "Exactly. Now, this guy has hurt you. You can be sad, you can escape from New York back to California, but after you calm down, you still have to face things and talk it through, right?"

"I understand."

I quickly wipe my face, get out of bed, and go wash up, splashing my face with cold water.

When I walk out the door, I see a strange sight: it's California in the evening, and the air is filled with the scent of the sea. Luke is standing in the sunset, wearing a white shirt, holding a bouquet of red roses with his bandaged hand.

He still looks incredibly handsome—beyond words. Looking back, maybe it wasn't entirely his fault. I was the one who pursued him; he never went out of his way to seek me out.

"Gemma," he says when he sees me, a flicker of light passing through his tired eyes.

I stop two meters away from him. "How's your hand?"

"Just a soft tissue injury, nothing serious."

"I'm sorry."

"I should be the one apologizing. I deserve it." He steps closer, and the roses tremble slightly in his hand as he moves. "I found your home address from the company application form. I rushed here from New York to say—"

"I accept your apology. You can leave now," I say.

The roses stop trembling, but as the wind blows, a few petals fall.

"You know I didn't just come to apologize," Luke says.

I look at the fallen petals, then raise my head. "So, when my friend saw you buying flowers that time, they were for Mary, right?"

The air becomes still.

"Luke, do you know?" I take a deep breath. "I don't hate you. In fact, in some ways, I even admire you. Not many men can still mourn a girlfriend after she's passed away."