Second Chance

A woman ate

I hopped into the car to head back to the hotel, or rather, someone else took the wheel for me.

Before leaving, I made sure to say a proper goodbye. I often mess that up, but today?

Nailed it!

When he asked me to watch his kid, I mentioned I was getting out of the city for a while, finally ready to let it all go.

I knew it was time to take control of my life; I couldn't rely on others to do it for me anymore.

As I stepped into the hotel room, I definitely wasn’t expecting to find Angelina in the middle of packing her bags, but there she was.

I moved toward her slowly, still a bit dazed. "What’s going on here?" I asked.

She jumped slightly when she noticed me, yanking out her AirPods. "How did you sneak in so quietly? I had no clue you were here!"

She gasped, hand pressed to her chest from the surprise.

I gestured toward her belongings strewn across the room. "Forget that! Why on earth are you packing?"

She started folding the clothes in her hands into her suitcase, all while trying to process what was happening.

She took a deep breath, grabbed my shoulders and laughed. "Miss Kourtney, I'm going to meet my daddy."

"HUH?!!!"

I looked at her, almost scared , Was she okay?

She rested her hand on her hip, laughter bubbling up as she shook off my misreading. “Oh wow, you’ve got that all wrong. I’m actually talking about my dad, just so you know!”

I turned to face the wall, a wave of embarrassment washing over me, but there was also a sense of relief. I really didn’t want Angelina to end up regretting anything.

"Thank goodness! Because if it were otherwise, I’d have to have a serious talk with your—"

She gently pressed her fingers to my lips, cutting me off. “Don’t say that! My hips are sore; you’ll make me laugh!” With a playful grin, she stifled her giggles, even holding her lips to contain them.

“Alright,” I moved her fingers aside. “Now tell me, where are you headed?”

“To see my dad,” she replied, gesturing towards a present on the table that read: To Dad, from today and forever.

I turned back, puzzled by her choice. “Doesn’t he live out in the country?”

She gave a slight nod and resumed packing.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, so why don’t you take me out for dinner tonight?” she said with a cheeky wink that nearly made me want to gag... but my stomach wouldn’t cooperate.

“What’s prompted this decision?”

She stretched her legs, groaning with each leg. "It's what I want and also what he wants. So I've decided, I'll stay there till I give birth".

I fought back the tears because I didn’t want to cry. Angelina wasn’t the type to make huge decisions; she preferred to see everything as a small problem that just needed a simple fix.

But today was different…

"Are you really sure about this?" I asked again, wanting to make sure she knew we were talking about something important.

"I know you're concerned that I might regret it later, but honestly, there’s nothing for me to regret. My parents are ready to accept me even though I haven’t been the best daughter."

I gazed at her, my eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Did you talk to your mom?"

"How did you guess?"

I chuckled a bit, "It's that look in your eyes—you only get it when you talk to her. It’s full of warmth."

We both burst into laughter as she joked about her hip hurting and playfully nudged me to stop laughing.

"I’ll treat you to dinner," I said as I hung up my coat and rummaged through my wardrobe for something else.

She rolled her eyes, "As if I would ever be the one treating!"

And then. I tossed a scrunchie at her.

The diner was bustling with creatures; couples, tourists and the woman who was with her best friend.

"Let's stay there, "we both said, with our eyes on different tables.

"Why would you want us near the pianist?", I asked her, wanting somewhere quiet.

"Those sweet tunes!!!"

“‘Those sweet tunes’ are meant for those who can truly feel the rhythm in their chests, you know, like couples.”

“So, are you saying we can’t feel the rhythm?” she complained.

“Not like they do.”

With a sigh, she replied, “Alright, let’s go with your pick.”

I strolled over to the pianist’s spot and lightly tapped a place on the seat. “Come sit down, I’m hungry.”

Her eyes sparkled as she dashed to the table. “I love you so much! You really know how to hit all the right spots in my back, figuratively speaking, of course.”

I chuckled and pointed to her seat again. “Sit down, woman.”

The waiter graciously pulled out the chair for her, and she blushed a little before settling in.

“How can I assist you ladies?” he asked, clutching a small notebook and pen.

Noticing we hadn’t even looked at the menu yet, I asked him to hold on so we could check out the offerings.

Before he could leave, Angelina caught his attention and handed him a note.

She made a “Call me” gesture, and he winked back before moving on to the next table, the note tucked away in his pocket.

My smile turned to a smirk, as I shifted nearer.

"So.. this is quite new".

She twirled her hair slowly, "Can’t just let a gentleman pass by. But did you see his watch though? That's a Patek Phillipe Nautilus".

I looked at the menu before me, now browsing through, "So.. It’s expensive?"

"Thousands of dollars".

I giggled at her, "Since when did you become a watch enthusiast?"

She chuckled back at me, saying, "Once I realised that wealthy guys..." and then gestured to her wrists, "Sport fancy watches."

"Fancy watches? You mean, pricey ones?"

She beamed at me, "You totally get it, darling."

I let out a frustrated hiss.

As I scanned the menu, I called the waiter as softly as a dove would, but my family genes didn't quite come with a volume control.

The waiter approached us, looking just as surprised as I felt that no one seemed bothered by my loud voice.

I placed my order, and Angelina asked for something with enough spice to tickle her taste buds.

"When I head out tomorrow," she suddenly chimed in, "you better not shed a tear."

"If you see me crying, it’s just from the onions I chopped for the celebration dinner."

She let out a laugh and ordered three cocktails, clearly remembering that I was footing the bill.

"I can feel the tears coming," she said, "the waterworks."

I wanted to chuckle, but I knew those giggles would quickly turn into real tears if I didn’t reign it in.

Angelina made a decision to heal, to let everything be how it should've been, to start a story, a new story.

We both did.

"I'll let you leave, woman, I bent my head, "Don't you dare forget me... never.