The apology
1229 Words
Chapter 5
Adrian Steele had survived corporate takeovers, international negotiations, and a dozen hostile board meetings. But none of those prepared him for apologizing to Shaira Alolor.
He stood outside her hut, holding a tray of food that looked more like a crime scene. The eggs were burnt, the bread lopsided, and the juice suspiciously pink.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself, “confidence. You’ve led boardrooms. You can handle a girl with a broom.”
Just as he reached for the door, it swung open and there she was. Hair still damp from a morning swim, wearing a plain white dress that somehow looked better than any designer outfit he’d ever seen.
Her eyes fell to the tray. “What is that?”
Breakfast,” he said proudly.
She raised an eyebrow. “Or an experiment gone wrong?”
“Both,” he admitted. “I, uh, thought I’d apologize properly.”
Shaira folded her arms, trying and failing not to smile. “By poisoning me?”
“It’s a gesture,” he said defensively. “Apparently that’s what humans do.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Persistent,” he corrected. “May I come in?”
She hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside. “Fine. But if I die from food poisoning, you’re digging the grave.”
Deal,” he said, grinning as he entered.
Inside, the air smelled of coconut and sunlight. Her hut was simple woven walls, seashell ornaments, and an open window where the sea breeze danced through. Adrian placed the tray carefully on her wooden table.
“I burned the eggs,” he admitted.
“I can see that.”
“And I spilled the coffee.”
She glanced at the sticky mug. “Also visible.”
He sighed. “Look, I’m not good at this. The whole ‘I messed up’ thing. Usually, I just fire someone and move on.”
“Comforting,” she said dryly.
“But I can’t fire you,” he said, his tone softening. “You’d probably throw me back into the ocean.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she said but the corners of her lips curved upward.
For a few seconds, they just stood there, the silence not as heavy as before.
Finally, he said, “You were right, you know.”
Her brow furrowed. “About what?”
“About me.” He met her eyes. “I’m scared of being human.”
She blinked, surprised. Adrian continued, his voice quieter now. “I built walls around my life routines, control, money and called it success. But being here… with you... it’s the first time I’ve actually felt something real in years.”
Her defenses wavered. “Adrian”
“I insulted your life because I didn’t understand it,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought peace meant laziness, when maybe it just means not being lost.”
Shaira looked down, twisting her fingers. For a long moment, she didn’t speak. Then she reached for one of the burnt eggs and took a tiny bite
His eyes widened. “You’re actually eating it?”
She chewed thoughtfully. “It’s terrible.”
“I warned you.”
“But she said slowly, “it’s the thought that counts.”
He smiled, relief washing over him. “So... you forgive me?”
“Hmm.” She tilted her head, pretending to think. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“You owe me,” she said with a mischievous grin.
“Name your price.”
She tapped her chin. “Help me with the seaweed harvest today.”
He blinked. “The what?”
“You heard me.”
“Is that a metaphor?”
“Nope. Grab a bucket.”
An hour later, Adrian stood knee deep in seawater, glaring at slippery green strands clinging to his hands. “This is barbaric.”
Shaira laughed from a few meters away, expertly gathering seaweed into a net. “You said you’d help."
“I thought it was going to be.. something on land.”
“Welcome to the island life,” she said cheerfully.
He sighed dramatically. “If any of my shareholders could see me now.”
“They’d probably invest in seaweed futures,” she teased.
He shot her a look but couldn’t help smiling. The sun was bright, the water cool, and Shaira’s laughter carried over the waves. Something about the simplicity of it two people, working side by side made him feel lighter.
Halfway through, he slipped on a rock and fell backward into the water with a splash
Shaira gasped then burst out laughing. “Oh no! Mr. Big City Downfall!”
He spat out seawater. “I think the island’s trying to kill me.”
“No, just humble you.”
He stood, soaked and sulking. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Absolutely.”
Without warning, he flicked a handful of water at her.
She squealed. “Adrian!”
“Revenge.”
“You wouldn’t dare”
Too late. A full-blown splash war began, both laughing uncontrollably as the waves joined the chaos. By the time they stopped, they were drenched, breathless, and smiling like fools.
Shaira pushed her wet hair back and looked at him really looked. “You’re not so bad when you stop acting like the world owes you.”
He smirked. “And you’re not so terrifying when you’re not yelling.”
“Keep talking,” she warned, splashing him again.
He laughed, stepping closer. “Fine, I’ll shut up.”
They stood inches apart, water dripping between them. The air changed soft, electric. Her laughter faded, replaced by something quieter. For a second, neither moved.
Then she cleared her throat, stepping back quickly. “We should, uh, finish harvesting.”
Right,” he said, pretending not to notice the warmth in his chest.
By sunset, they’d filled the buckets and hauled them to shore. The sky burned with orange and pink, and Shaira collapsed onto the sand with a satisfied sigh. “You did good today, city boy.”
“Good?” he said, dropping beside her. “I think I achieved manual labor sainthood.”
She laughed. “Don’t push it.”
He turned toward her, smiling faintly. “So. do I earn forgiveness now?”
Shaira pretended to think. “Hmm. You helped, got soaked, didn’t complain too much..”
“I complained plenty.”
“Yes, but in style,” she said with a grin. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”
He exhaled in relief. “Finally.”
“But,” she added, “you still owe me dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“Tomorrow night. My rules.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Should I be afraid?”
Yes,” she said sweetly.
That night, as Adrian lay in the hammock, the ocean whispering nearby, he couldn’t stop thinking about her her laughter, her fire, her kindness disguised as stubbornness. For the first time in years, he wasn’t counting hours or profits. He was just.. there.
And somewhere inside the hut, Shaira sat by her window, watching the stars. She caught herself smiling, shaking her head. “You’re trouble, Adrian Steele,” she murmured. “The dangerous kind.”
Still, she couldn’t quite hide the warmth that spread through her chest
- Writer
