“Oh! Splash!”
Water sprayed everywhere, soaking her beautiful outfit. The vehicle that had just driven by had splashed her with water. Her ankle seemed to be sprained, making it difficult to get up. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger. She had to admit she looked pretty adorable when angry.
Her dress was wet from the knee down, and one of the buttons had popped off, detracting from its charm. Which was the dress her mother had gifted her on her birthday, a priceless gift, and now, some thoughtless person had caused damage to her cherished gift.
The car that had caused her to fall stopped right before her. A young man, around one meter eighty, with fair skin, eyes bright but steeped in deep sorrow, and a high forehead, dressed in a white shirt and elegant trousers, approached her.
“Miss, are you okay?” His voice was warm like a spring breeze softly caressing the summer sky, red with the hues of the setting sunshine.
“Do I look like I’m okay?” She retorted with the mood of someone greatly irritated by an unexpected misfortune. She didn’t care who he was or what he was like; all she knew was that he was the one who had caused her to fall and ruined her favorite dress. She just sat there, ignoring his worried and flustered looks.
“Let me help you stand up, okay? Can I buy you another set of clothes? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ll be more careful next time.” He approached a bit closer and gently said. Making a woman angry is one of the most foolish things a man does.
She couldn’t help but lift her face. Her wide-open eyes looked at me in disbelief for a moment. Those bright eyes, tall stature, polite demeanor, and warm voice she seemed to have encountered before but couldn’t recall precisely when or where.
She just stared at him, and he was pretty surprised that a girl was staring at him without blinking, even though they had just met for the first time. There was no lack of women who were fond of him, but this intense gaze intrigued him. He cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward, and said.
“I am sorry for soiling your clothes. I…” Maris interrupted him as he spoke, perhaps rude, but she didn’t want to hear this voice anymore. It reminded her of someone she hadn’t seen for many years.
“I’m fine, but you shouldn’t drive that fast. This road is quite narrow, so please go slow. You’re lucky to have encountered someone as lenient as me this time. Otherwise, if you had met someone else, then…”
She paused when she saw the apologetic look on his handsome face; this sudden, pitiful expression made her heart soften, and her reproaches die on her tongue. He also was indeed remorseful for angering such a beautiful woman.
Slowly, she managed to stand up, walking away gingerly, each step heavy due to her still injured foot. He watched as she disappeared down the street, her petite figure shrinking amid the vast urban landscape. Saigon was immense, making people seem even more minor; losing each other once could mean a lifetime spent searching without finding.
The distance between human encounters and separations sometimes hangs by a thread as thin as a strand of hair. They had just met and briefly exchanged, but who knew whether fate would bring them together again?
Hearing the doorbell ring, her mother came out. Her mother was horrified at seeing their injured daughter.
“How was your first day at work? What happened to you?” Her mother assisted Maris into the house, sat on the sofa, and began recounting the incident.
“Bla… bla… bla… That’s what happened, Mom.”
Despite her minor scrape, her mother used her first-aid kit. She narrated her story in one breath, and her mother was filled with sympathy and distress. Maris had grown up sheltered, and life’s abrasions were a novelty, causing her mother to fret.
Her mother held her, comforting and consoling, their profound bond potentially evoking jealousy in others. Maris was like a small puppy, soaked to the bone and seeking warmth and reassurance from her mother.
“Alright, go take a shower, change your clothes. We’ll wait for your father to come home and have dinner.”
“Okay.”
She obeyed her mother and ascended the stairs to her room. Reclining on the spacious, comfortable bed, she felt at peace.
Honestly, there was no place like home. The familiar surroundings, objects, smells, and the image of the man she had encountered earlier all felt oddly familiar. She couldn’t quite recall where she had met him, but she felt normal. His sad eyes reminded her of someone she couldn’t remember well. Life was full of strange events, but why did she feel this way about a stranger?
Lost in her thoughts, she sighed and left the incomplete puzzle of her ideas for another day.
After a relaxing shower, she used a towel to dry her hair thoroughly. Leaving wet hair for too long was not good for long-term health, especially at night.
“Love him. When you break up, he doesn’t ask for gifts…” She moved towards the window, sat on a swinging chair, and enjoyed the lively rhythm of the famous song “Anh khong doi qua” (Only C ft Karik).
The song was a hit among the young audience, and its popularity was evident from its frequent plays in cafes. She bobbed her head to the catchy beat while continuously stroking her silky hair. Her tight-fitting dress accentuated her curves and made her look even more attractive.
Life, for her, was virtually free of worries. She had everything a girl could dream of: a happy family, beauty, education, and a great asset. Her slender fingers glided over the keyboard before coming to a halt on an upscale fashion brand’s online shopping site.
Her eyes widened, sparkling like dew-kissed pearls, fixating on a Hermes handbag; the emerald green crocodile leather was irresistible to fashion enthusiasts like herself. Hurriedly, she clicked on the quantity box. Fortunately, one was still available. Being a limited edition, opportunities to own this piece were scarce. Having placed the order, she sat laughing like a girl in love.
The lives of wealthy heiresses were indeed enviable; they could effortlessly acquire whatever they desired.