Second Chance

A man spoke

I couldn’t help but squeal as I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. I knew I was cute, but this was something else!

“Girl, stop checking out that ugly reflection and come spill the tea! Don’t leave me in suspense!” I flashed a grin and plopped down next to her.

“Alright, so here’s the scoop: after they announced the will...

Los Angeles,California. Oscar's family home.

Mrs. Miller was mumbling something about visiting Oscar's grave and killing him again, while Mr. Miller just realized that all Oscar ever did for the family’s fortune was the absolute bare minimum.

Meanwhile, the lawyer expertly navigated through the chaos and managed to slip away to his important meeting, leaving my mom to be the comforting presence, patting everyone on the back every few seconds and saying, “It’s okay.”

Everyone in the room was well aware that Oscar wasn’t exactly known for his generosity. Even if he felt compelled to share his undeserved wealth, it wouldn’t be with those in need or less fortunate. Whenever he came across someone online claiming they were broke, he’d channel his inner Shakespeare and quip something along the lines of, "Broke people are just beggars with ego." Somehow, Oscar still had a knack for rage baiting even from beyond the grave.

“LEAVE OUR HOUSE!” Mrs. Miller finally yelled, her patience wearing thin. It seemed Mom had touched a nerve, as Mrs. Miller began venting about how her son had changed since marrying me. We had gone from the whispers of "I killed him" to the outright accusation of "I made him stupid."

Strong, able-bodied men soon threw us out, but they wouldn’t share their numbers—talk about a missed opportunity! I plopped down on a nearby bench, eager to let the cool breeze hit my face, but alas, something else hit me instead.

It was the gentle touch of my sweet mom. "Mom, I’m so used to rough hands hitting my face that it feels amazing to have your soft hands gently stroking my cheek like that." But then, she suddenly got up from the bench, fists clenched, her fury evident—poor thing, that couldn’t have been good for her hip.

"Are you satisfied now? You've crushed my only joy in this life and messed up my chances of getting closer to his family, where we could have at least gained something. You’ve pushed us right back into being stuck with poverty!” Her voice shot up, making her really sound like she wasn’t serious at all.

While she ranted, I doodled a silly caricature of myself with my feet on the floor. When I looked up again, she was grabbing her purse and starting to leave. But she clearly needed to regain some of her drama after that whole “getting on her knees and begging” moment, so she turned around and shouted, “My future was bright, Kourtney, until you stomped all over it!”

The moment I processed what I heard, I dropped to my knees, laughing like a maniac. Seriously, when does a 50-year-old woman go off blaming her 22-year-old daughter for ruining her life? It’s a good day when you witness that kind of drama!

My mom had already stormed off, and folks passing by gave me the oddest looks, like they’d never seen anything crazier like fairytale unicorns pooping glitter. I picked myself up and strolled down the street, hoping to find a cab, but it seemed like every taxi driver had finally raked in enough cash for a wild night out.

So, I pulled out my phone and dialed my best friend Angelina. I wanted to let her know I was heading over and maybe get her to feel a bit sorry for this poor widow so she wouldn’t make me do the dishes again. Honestly, I wasn’t thrilled about visiting, especially since Angelina was living with her boyfriend now. But facing either my empty home or my mom’s endless speeches about life couldn’t be worse, could it?

I squinted with my 4K vision, scanning the distance for any cabs, when suddenly I spotted a guy zooming by like he was fleeing from the cops or a g**g member after a rough night with a busted bike. It’s common knowledge that there’s always drama involving bikes among those crews.

I stood right in the middle of the road, hoping to get the cab to slow down. Of course, part of me was worried the driver might not even notice me and make me the latest roadside decoration. Luckily, the cab came to a halt, and the driver stepped out with a flair, his face twisted.

"Not today, lady. I’m not going to jail because of your foolishness. Move aside and find someone else to mess with," he barked back, his voice grating like a forklift. What a scene!

I wiped away the fake tears I had accumulated and pleaded with him, “Please, I really need to get home and there aren’t any other cabs available. You were speeding by, and I could feel your kind heart from a distance, so I just had to stand here and hope you’d stop.” I gave him my best “please help me” look, something I picked up from my sweet mom.

The taxi driver turned his head to chat with someone else; it looked like there was another passenger already in the cab. “Hop in,” he said, swinging open the front door and sliding into the driver’s seat, a smug smile spreading across his face as if he had just rescued a damsel in distress.

I climbed into the back and settled next to this young guy who caught my attention right away. He had rich, walnut-colored eyes and shoulder-length red hair, slightly muscular—definitely the kind of guy who is a topic of conversation during girls’ sleepovers.

He was sitting there, completely at ease, not glued to his phone like most kids these days. Instead of scrolling or diving into a book to kill time, he was simply soaking in the stunning evening sky or mulling over how to tackle that tricky Candy Crush level.

I waved my hand in front of his face and said, "Hey, you look a bit bored. Want to play a fun game with me?" He shot me a look that suggested I was a little out there, but honestly, I was used to that reaction throughout my life.

"Do I know you?" he asked, eyeing me as if I were on trial.

"Nope, and that's exactly why we should get to know each other! Let’s share a fun fact to kick off our friendship," I said with a grin, but he scooted a bit farther away.

"What kind of fun fact?" he replied, his voice as soft as a gentle raindrop.

"Well, something like, 'My rich husband just passed away, and he left all his properties to a food bank'—you know, that kind of fun fact," I answered. His eyes widened so much I half-expected them to pop right out!

"Wow, that's super specific! Are you really sure it’s just a fun fact?" he said, looking genuinely worried. I chuckled and scratched my head, explaining that it was actually based on a true story, which made him start to apologize.

"I don't give a hoot." I replied with a grin. "That guy totally got what was coming to him." His expression shifted to one of even more confusion, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Then, he turned his gaze out the window, a smile creeping onto his face.

"I don’t know the whole story, but I’m really sorry," he said, his eyes glistening a bit. "My wife passed away recently too." I wanted to say something comforting, but just then, the cab came to a stop right in front of Angelina's apartment.

Present- 8PM, Angelina's Appartment.

I was left fiddling with my straw, having finished my drink ages ago. Angelina, being her usual frugal self, wasn’t about to pour me another. "That's the tea," I remarked, casually holding my straw like a cigarette, trying to make light of the moment.

Out of the blue, Angelina stood up and playfully flicked my forehead like I was a little kid. "Ouch! What was that for?" I protested, brandishing my straw like it was a weapon, ready for a playful strike.

"Seriously, just cry or roll around or something. Stop pretending you’re fine," she said, crossing her arms and giving me a stern look, leaving me feeling puzzled. "Am I supposed to be sad about Oscar's passing?"

She settled down next to me, wrapping herself in a blanket. "No, not that. I mean, for the past four years you’ve been with Oscar, you've been all smiles and jokes. But I can see you’re not really okay. You can let it out, you know—maybe shed some tears of joy now that he’s gone, if you still won't admit that all that a***e affected you".

I got out of bed feeling a bit irritated. "Angelina, I've said it over and over—stop bringing this up! I'm fine, and you’re totally killing the vibe," I snapped. She let out a sigh and mumbled an apology, but it was clear she wasn’t ready to drop it.

"Oh yeah, You won’t believe it! I saw Marcus at this jewelry store yesterday, and he asked for a custom ring! He even described me to the saleslady so she could suggest a design I’d like. Do you know what that means?" As she spoke, her eyes sparkled with excitement, and I felt my jaw drop in disbelief.

I practically shouted, shaking her by the shoulders, "He's going to propose!" We were both so excited that we jumped up and down, whooping and hollering as the floor probably planned how to imprison us for physical a***e.

Marcus and Angelina had been together for three years, and for the last couple of months, she’d been glued to wedding channels whenever he was around. Plus, she’d intentionally doodled wedding dresses and stuck them on the fridge, hoping he’d finally catch a clue.

Angelina always seemed to think of Marcus as a total green flag or something, but honestly, the only thing I appreciated about him was how tidy he was. The shelves never had a funky smell, the bathrooms always looked spotless, and even the floors, tough as hardwood, shone brightly. The house had this sweet, honey-like scent that made me a bit paranoid about bees showing up in the middle of the night, but it was still quite lovely overall.

While Angelina stepped outside to toss out some trash, I seized the moment to raid the fridge. As I wandered into the kitchen, I couldn't help but admire the floral blue-and-white wallpaper that really served as the heart of the room's charm. Suddenly, I heard a male voice whistling in the background.

“Hey Kourtney, great to see you again!” I turned slowly to look at the human trying to communicate with me and simply replied, “Hey.” I wasn’t in the mood for any chatter with him—he just gave off some seriously bad vibes.

"Hey Kourtney, can I share something with you?

"I let out a sigh and glanced at him, "What’s up?"

"I feel like breaking up with Angelina.