It had been six months since the whole Daniel incident, and honestly, I could finally say I had moved on. I no longer thought about him at night, no longer replayed the painful words I had overheard, and no longer felt those sharp pangs of betrayal. The scars were there, yes, but they had healed over with time, love, and the support of Aunt Grace. School had closed for the term, and for the first time in a long while, I had something I longed for more than anything else—my mother all to myself.
I woke up that morning with a strange sense of fulfillment, like the sun was rising just for me. Without even brushing my hair, I rushed downstairs, grinning from ear to ear.
"Good morning, everyone!" I sang happily as I entered the living room.
Aunt Grace looked up from the couch, startled by my sudden burst of energy. "Good morning, dear," she replied with a warm smile. I ran to hug her, my laughter spilling out like a child's.
"Oh, I've never seen you this happy!" she teased.
Before I could reply, a familiar voice floated from the kitchen. "Is that my angel?"
"Mom!" I shouted, dashing forward to meet her. She came out carrying a tray of freshly baked bread, her apron dusted with flour, and the sight of her filled me with joy.
"Good morning, Mom," I said, throwing my arms around her.
"How are you, my angel?" she asked, kissing my forehead.
"I'm fine! And you?" I asked back. But before she could answer, the doorbell rang, echoing through the house.
"I'll get that," Aunt Grace said, rising quickly. Mom and I settled at the dining table, still talking, until Aunt Grace returned with a stranger behind her—a young man, tall, broad-shouldered, and no more than twenty-one.
"Good morning, ma," he greeted politely.
"Good morning. Who are you, and how can I help you?" my mom asked, her voice calm and motherly.
"My name is Stephen," he replied. "I'm here from the domestic staff company you called yesterday. I was assigned to work as your driver, ma."
"Driver?" My eyebrows shot up. He looked too young, like someone who should be sitting in a college lecture hall, not holding car keys. And I wasn't wrong—Mom had the same thought.
"How old are you?" she asked firmly. "You should be in school, not here."
"I'm twenty-one, ma," Stephen said, bowing his head. "But I'm an orphan. I can't afford tuition, so I work to save up for my education."
Something in his voice—a quiet strength mixed with sadness—moved me. I saw Mom's expression soften too.
"Oh, that explains it," she said gently. "You can start immediately. Grace here is our housekeeper; she'll show you your room. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask, alright?"
"Thank you so much, ma," Stephen replied, his face lighting up with relief. I caught the sparkle in his eyes, and I knew at that moment that Mom already liked him. Strangely, I did too.
Later that day, Mom and I were preparing to go shopping together. It was the first time in years, and I couldn't contain my excitement.
"Mom, I'm ready! Come down quickly!" I called, pacing near the staircase.
"I'm right here," she said, descending gracefully.
"Wow, Mom! You look so good," I exclaimed, genuinely impressed.
"Thank you, my baby. You look stunning too," she said with that motherly pride that always made my heart swell.
Outside, Stephen was already waiting by the car. "Good morning, ma. Good morning, Young Miss," he greeted respectfully.
"Good morning, Stephen," we chorused.
At the boutique, Mom and I tried on countless dresses and shoes, laughing and teasing each other like best friends. It was the happiest I'd felt in a long while. On impulse, I picked out some gifts—not just for Aunt Grace, but also for Stephen. Maybe it was because he seemed like a good person, or maybe because I pitied him. Either way, it felt right.
The next afternoon, while taking a walk in the garden, I spotted a troubling scene. Stephen was cornered by two of our security guards, and they were shoving him around like a rag doll.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" I shouted, storming towards them. The guards froze instantly.
"If you move an inch, you're dead!" I warned, my voice trembling with anger.
"We're sorry, ma," one of them stammered. "He disobeyed us and was rude."
"Disobeyed you? Who gave you authority over him? Is he in the security department?" My words cut through the air like a whip.
They bowed their heads. "We're sorry, ma."
"Save it. Your salaries will be deducted this month, and no bonuses either." I dismissed them with a glare before turning to Stephen. His shirt was rumpled, but his eyes still held that calm strength.
"Stephen, I'm so sorry about this," I said softly. "My birthday is in three days. I want you to be my assistant that day. Will you do that for me?"
His eyes widened. "Really? Thank you so much, Kendra. I appreciate this kind gesture."
"You can just call me Kendra," I said with a smile, walking away. But deep inside, I felt a strange flutter. Maybe I was beginning to like him. I only hoped it wasn't a mistake.
The morning of my birthday arrived, and I woke up giddy with excitement. Still lying in bed, I imagined the gifts I'd receive, the laughter, the celebration. A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Who's that?" I asked.
"It's me, Stephen," came the reply.
"Come in," I said.
He stepped in, holding a small box. "Good morning, Kendra," he greeted with a smile.
"Good morning, Stephen," I said, sitting up.
"Happy birthday, Kendy. I got you a present." He handed me the box, his hands slightly trembling.
Curious, I opened it—and gasped. Inside was a delicate silver pendant, customized with my name.
"Wow! I love it, Stephen. Thank you so much!" Overcome with gratitude, I hugged him tightly. For a second, we stayed like that, then our eyes met, and before I could stop myself, our lips brushed in a soft, unexpected kiss.
I pulled back immediately, flustered. "Oh… sorry about that," I muttered, rushing into the bathroom.
Inside, I leaned against the door, heart pounding. "What a nice way to start the day," I whispered to myself, smiling despite my confusion.