Chapter 3
1146 Words
Matilda wasn’t used to drinking alcohol, but after Bernard insisted, she finally gave in.
“Okay, no problem,” she said with a small smile. “Bring it on.”
Bernard chuckled. “What are you bringing on?”
Matilda frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we should have the drink,” Bernard said with a playful smile.
Matilda laughed softly. Deep down, she knew he was teasing her.
“I thought you meant something else,” she said.
“Did you?” Bernard teased.
“Are you serious right now?” she asked, laughing.
“I’m just kidding,” he replied, laughing along with her.
The waiter returned with their drinks, and they continued talking. What started as a casual conversation soon became something deeper. They spoke about the challenges of work, the pressure of running businesses, and how difficult it was to balance success with their mental health.
“It’s not easy,” Matilda admitted. “I hardly talk to people like this. It’s strange how easily we connect, as if we’ve known each other for years.”
Bernard smiled.
“Why is that?”
She hesitated before replying.
“Personal reasons.”
She wasn’t ready to open up to someone she had only just met.
They laughed, teased each other, and enjoyed every moment together.
“Have a drink,” Bernard said, raising his glass.
They clinked their glasses together and took another sip, enjoying the rest of the evening.
Suddenly, Matilda’s phone rang.
She glanced at the screen and froze.
“My mom…”
Although her parents were often emotionally distant, she still loved them deeply.
She answered the call.
“How did you lose the contract to Mr. Brian?” her mother demanded angrily.
Embarrassed, Matilda excused herself from Bernard and stepped outside.
“Mom, is that why you called?” she asked, struggling to hold back her emotions. “This is the first contract I’ve ever lost. Do you even know that? You haven’t called once to ask how I’ve been since you left for your business trip, and now the first thing you do is make me feel worse.”
Her voice trembled.
“Do you even know why I lost the contract?”
There was silence.
“He expected something I could never give him in exchange for the contract. I wasn’t going to sacrifice my dignity just because it meant a lot to the company. You know I’ve never failed before. Instead of accusing me, you should have asked what really happened.”
Her mother was speechless.
Without waiting for a response, Matilda ended the call.
The tears she had been holding back finally fell. She cried quietly, wiped her face, took a deep breath, and returned to the party as though nothing had happened.
Bernard noticed her red eyes immediately.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
“I’m fine,” she replied with a forced smile.
But deep down, she wasn’t.
Without saying another word, she picked up her unfinished drink and finished it.
Bernard looked at her in surprise.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to drink much.”
She forced a small smile.
“I just… feel like drinking tonight.”
He studied her for a moment before nodding.
“If that’s what you want.”
They ordered more drinks, made another toast, and continued drinking.
Before long, Matilda was completely drunk.
Bernard, having a higher tolerance for alcohol, remained sober enough to notice how unsteady she had become.
“I think that’s enough,” he said gently.
She smiled lazily.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” Bernard replied. “How are you going to get home?”
She didn’t answer.
Her eyes had already begun to close.
When Bernard asked for her address, she couldn’t remember it.
Realizing she was in no condition to go home alone, he decided to take her somewhere safe until she sobered up.
He carefully helped her out of the hall.
Outside, the cool night air brushed against her face. She shivered.
Without hesitation, Bernard removed his suit jacket and gently placed it over her shoulders.
She looked up at him through her drunken eyes, unable to hide her emotions.
For a brief moment, Bernard noticed the way she looked at him and smiled faintly to himself.
Supporting her carefully, he led her into the hotel.
The elevator doors closed behind them.
By the time they reached the room, Matilda could barely hold herself together emotionally. The alcohol had lowered the walls she had spent years building around herself.
As Bernard unlocked the door, she suddenly stopped.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “I noticed your mood changed after that phone call.”
For a moment, she remained silent.
Then the tears came.
“I don’t know why I keep trying so hard,” she whispered between sobs. “Nothing I do is ever enough.”
Bernard guided her to the bed and sat beside her, giving her time to breathe.
“My mom called…” she said, wiping away her tears. “She didn’t ask if I was okay. She didn’t ask what happened. All she cared about was the contract I lost.”
Her voice cracked.
“I’ve worked so hard to make them proud, but they never seem to notice. They only remember me when I fail.”
Bernard listened quietly without interrupting.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” he said gently. “You didn’t deserve any of it.”
He gently brushed the tears from her cheeks.
“You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore.”
Matilda stared into his eyes.
No one had ever looked at her the way he was looking at her now—not with pity, but with understanding.
For the first time in a long time, she felt truly seen.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was comforting.
Bernard slowly reached for her hand.
“You’re stronger than you think,” he whispered.
A faint smile appeared on her lips as fresh tears filled her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Their eyes remained locked.
Almost without realizing it, Matilda leaned closer.
Bernard hesitated for a brief moment before meeting her halfway.
Their lips met in a gentle kiss.
The kiss lingered—soft, hesitant, and filled with emotions neither of them fully understood.
In that fragile moment, between heartbreak and comfort, Matilda didn’t want to be alone anymore.
The rest of the night slipped away quietly.
…
The sound of running water stirred Matilda awake.
Her head throbbed painfully.
She blinked several times before slowly opening her eyes.
This wasn’t her bedroom.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She looked around the unfamiliar hotel room before pulling the duvet tightly around herself.
“Oh… my God.”
- Writer
