Morning After the Bank Drama – Sharon's POV
Sharon woke up with a knot in her chest, the kind that had nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with frustration. Her phone lay face down on the nightstand, silent as a tomb, a painful reminder that Zack hadn't bothered to return her messages the night before. She had typed three long texts, each softer than the last, pleading for just a sliver of attention. No reply.
Instead of wallowing in it, she dragged herself up and shuffled toward the kitchen, determined to drown her mood in a steaming cup of coffee. The aroma filled the air, bittersweet and bold, but it didn't make the gnawing emptiness inside any easier to swallow.
Her mother's voice floated in from the sitting room.
"Sharon, are you up? Don't forget you promised to accompany me to the market later today."
"Yes, Mum!" she called back, though her tone lacked enthusiasm. She couldn't bring herself to argue. It wasn't her mother's fault that her boyfriend was increasingly acting like a ghost with a heartbeat.
Before she could even take her first sip of coffee, her phone buzzed. Hope shot through her, but the screen only showed one name: Vera.
"Girl, open the door," Vera's voice came chirping even before Sharon could greet her.
Sharon sighed but couldn't suppress a smile. She padded to the front door and let her best friend in. Vera looked like her usual whirlwind of energy braids bouncing, tote bag hanging loosely from her shoulder, and a mischievous spark in her eyes.
"You look like death reheated," Vera announced dramatically as she dropped into the nearest chair. "What happened? Late-night studying or late-night crying over Zack the Busybody?"
Sharon rolled her eyes and took another sip of coffee. "Can't a girl just have a bad night without being diagnosed?"
"Nope," Vera quipped, crossing her legs. "So spill."
Sharon hesitated, then found herself venting. "Zack didn't reply to my texts. Again. I called twice no answer. I just… I don't know why I'm holding on anymore. And to top it all off, yesterday I nearly lost my mind at the bank."
Vera's brows shot up. "Bank? Don't tell me you caused a scene."
"Not me. This man. He barged in like he owned the place, barking at the staff. So arrogant, so full of himself. I couldn't take it anymore, so I snapped at him."
Vera gasped in delight. "You? Snapping at a stranger in public? Oh, this I need details for."
Sharon rubbed her forehead. "He was demanding to see the manager like the world revolved around him. And when the staff calmly explained, he kept acting as if their words were beneath him. So, yes, I told him off."
Vera leaned forward, her grin widening. "And what did you call him?"
Sharon smirked faintly despite herself. "Mr. Bad Character."
Vera burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. "You didn't!"
"I did," Sharon said, her lips twitching. "And I don't regret it. People like him need to be reminded that the world doesn't revolve around their tantrums."
"Uh-huh," Vera teased. "But if you're still ranting about him this morning, maybe he made more of an impression than you'd like to admit."
Sharon glared. "Don't start. He's the last person I'd ever think about."
But as she said it, a memory flickered the sharpness in his eyes when he turned to her, the way his voice deepened with disbelief. It unsettled her, though she'd never admit it.
Across town, Leo Smith sat in his sleek glass-walled office, tapping his pen against a file he wasn't reading. His assistant droned on about meetings and projections, but Leo's mind wasn't in the room.
Instead, he kept hearing the words again, sharp as glass: "Mr. Bad Character."
A whole lifetime of command and authority, and no one had ever dared call him that. People respected him or feared him. They never reduced him to a petty label. But that woman… she had looked at him with fire in her eyes and thrown it right in his face.
It bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
"Sir?" his assistant ventured cautiously.
Leo snapped back. "Yes. What is it?"
"The board meeting at noon"
"I'll be there," he cut in, then waved his assistant away.
The door barely closed before another voice intruded this one softer, warmer. His mother.
"Leo."
He looked up to see Mrs. Smith entering, her elegance intact despite the years. She placed a small box of homemade cookies on his desk, her way of reminding him he was still her son, not just a CEO.
"You work too much," she said matter-of-factly. "And now I hear rumors about you causing a scene at the bank yesterday."
Leo's jaw tightened. "Gossip travels fast."
"Apparently a woman put you in your place," she added with a hint of a smile.
He exhaled sharply. "Mother"
"What?" she teased. "Is it so terrible that someone spoke back to you? Maybe you needed it."
Leo leaned back in his chair, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. But the truth was, her words lingered. Because yes, it did sting—and yes, he had needed it, though he'd rather swallow glass than admit that out loud.
By mid-afternoon, Sharon's phone finally buzzed with a message from Zack. She snatched it up with too much hope, only for her stomach to sink as she read his casual words:
"Babe, sorry I was busy. Long night. Catch up later?"
Later. Always later.
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard, fury and hurt battling for dominance. She wanted to scream through the screen: Do you even see me? Do I even matter to you anymore? But instead, she typed a simple reply: "Okay. Take care."
She set the phone down like it was poisonous.
Vera, who was scrolling lazily through Sharon's magazines on the couch, noticed her expression. "Let me guess. Mr. Vanishing Act finally texted?"
"Yeah," Sharon muttered.
"And?"
"He's busy. Always busy."
Vera dropped the magazine with a thud. "Sharon, you need to stop excusing this man. Busy is code for 'I can't be bothered.'"
"You don't know that."
"I do. I've dated 'busy.' I've fallen for 'busy.' And I've cried over 'busy.' And trust me, it's never worth it."
Sharon pressed her lips together, refusing to admit the sting of truth. Instead, she crossed her arms defensively. "Relationships take patience, Vera."
"Patience, yes. Blind devotion? No."
The words cut sharper than Sharon wanted to acknowledge. She stood abruptly, busying herself with rearranging mugs on the shelf. "Let's just drop it."
But the silence that followed was heavy, full of the unsaid truth that she was clinging to someone who was already slipping away.
That evening, Leo sat in his penthouse, the city's neon lights sprawling beneath his windows like a restless ocean. He tried drowning his irritation in paperwork, but every sentence blurred into one image: Sharon's fiery face at the bank.
He didn't even know her name, yet she had carved herself into his thoughts. Not like the women who usually hovered around him, drawn to his wealth, his status. This one this stubborn stranger hadn't cared about any of that. She had seen him, stripped of all the polished layers, and dismissed him as "Mr. Bad Character."
And the worst part? He couldn't decide if he hated her for it or… respected her.
He poured himself a drink, swirling the amber liquid as though it held answers. His father's voice echoed in memory, stern and unforgiving: "Power is only as strong as the fear it commands. Never let anyone question yours."
But she had. And he was still thinking about it twenty-four hours later.
He set the glass down with a sharp clink. "This is ridiculous," he muttered to the empty room.
Yet, deep inside, denial warred with intrigue. He didn't want to admit she had unsettled him. He didn't want to admit he wanted to see her again.
The next night, Zack finally showed up at Sharon's apartment. She had been torn between anger and relief, but the moment he stepped inside, she noticed everything about him felt distant his hug too brief, his kiss too distracted.
"Hey, babe," he said, flopping onto her couch and immediately scrolling through his phone.
"Hi," Sharon replied, her tone colder than she intended.
She sat across from him, watching as the seconds ticked by, his attention never lifting from the glowing screen. Her irritation bubbled until it broke.
"Zack, do you even want to be here?"
He glanced up, surprised. "What do you mean? Of course."
"You're not even looking at me."
"I'm just finishing something for work," he said, already half-absorbed back into his phone.
"Always work," Sharon whispered bitterly.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
The fight clawed at her throat, but she swallowed it down. Picking battles with Zack had become a cycle her accusing, him dismissing, her retreating. Tonight, she was too tired.
So she excused herself to the kitchen, leaning against the counter with her eyes squeezed shut. She told herself she was fine, that this was just a phase, that relationships went through ups and downs. But her chest told another story—a slow ache of irritation, denial, and the quiet knowledge that something was breaking.
Days later, Sharon found herself back in the city center, running errands for her mother. Arms full of groceries, she maneuvered her way out of the market and nearly collided with a tall figure in a crisp suit.
The bags wobbled, and before she could steady herself, strong hands reached out to catch them.
"Careful," a deep voice said.
She froze. It was him.
Leo Smith. Mr. Bad Character himself.
Her eyes widened in recognition, irritation flaring immediately. "You," she muttered.
His brows arched in equal surprise. "You."
They stared at each other for a beat, the air tense, almost electric. Then Sharon straightened, adjusting her bags like armor. "Don't worry. I don't need rescuing."
"I wasn't rescuing," Leo replied coolly. "Just preventing broken eggs."
"Well, thank you, Mr. Bad Character," she shot back before she could stop herself.
His lips twitched, the faintest suggestion of amusement, though his eyes remained sharp. "Still holding onto that, are we?"
"Some titles stick."
For a moment, they simply looked at each other, two strangers bound by irritation and denial of what lingered beneath. Sharon told herself she despised him. Leo told himself she was insignificant. And yet, neither could ignore the strange pull that made their paths collide again.