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Chapter 7 - No more running

I woke up… smiling.

That was new.

No racing heart, no guilt, no imaginary argument playing out in my head. Just peace. I lay there for a few seconds, soaking in the silence of my new apartment, then sat up, stretched, and got to work on my morning routine.

Teeth brushed. Face rinsed. Hair still wrapped in a scarf. I headed downstairs, grabbed two eggs, some bread, and quickly whipped up a sandwich. Nothing fancy—fried eggs, a little salt, some tea on the side. It tasted better than it should have. Probably because I wasn't stressed.

After breakfast, I showered, letting the hot water loosen the knots in my shoulders. When I stepped out, I already had the perfect outfit in mind. Crisp white shirt. Unbuttoned just enough to say "I'm confident," but not enough to scream "look at me." I tucked it into a black, fitted skirt and slipped on black pointed heels that clicked with purpose.

I tied my box braids into a neat low ponytail and reached for my makeup. Brown liner. Dark red lipstick. I stepped in front of the mirror and stared at myself.

"Pretty. Confident. Powerful. Sexy. Commands respect," I whispered, posing like I was about to walk a runway. I even did the strut once. Twice.

Then I stopped. Laughed.

"But aren't I doing too much? I mean, Kim, you're going to work in a lab, not dominate the business world," I muttered.

I sighed and swapped the skirt and heels for jeans and white sneakers. Still cute. Still me. I wiped off the lipstick and went for a simple gloss instead. Fresh face. Fresh start.

When I checked the time, it was 7:32 a.m. I grabbed my bag and stepped outside.

At the roadside, I waited for a taxi—until a bike horn startled me. I ignored it. Another honk. I frowned and looked up.

Alvin.

Helmet on. Looking smug.

"Oh. Hey, Alvin," I said, trying to sound casual. "You didn't tell me you rode a bike."

"I started a year ago… by then…" His voice trailed off.

Silence fell between us. Heavy, awkward.

"Well, where are you going? I'll drop you off," he offered.

"You don't have to. I don't want to bother you."

"It's okay. You can border me anytime," he said, smiling.

I rolled my eyes but smiled back. "Alright then." I climbed on. "Biotech Corporation."

I tried to sit upright, not letting my body touch his—but the road had potholes. Lots of them. Each bounce pulled me closer.

"Relax. It's just a ride," Alvin said.

My cheeks burned. I stopped fighting the proximity.

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived. "Thank you," I mumbled before hurrying into the towering building like my life depended on it.

The day at work was long. I went through entry procedures, ID cards, paperwork, a safety tour, and then finally got into the lab. It smelled like chemicals and potential. I was officially a research assistant at a drug manufacturing company. That felt surreal.

By 6:00 p.m., I was drained. I caught a taxi home and just as I reached the building, there he was again.

Alvin.

"Hello," I said.

"Hey," he replied.

We walked into the building, side by side, no words needed.

At the stairs, I paused. "Can we talk?" I asked.

He turned, hand on the rail. "Sure."

"Care to come in?" I asked, unlocking my door.

He stepped inside without a word.

I went to the fridge, pulled out two sodas, and handed him one. We sat opposite each other, sipping quietly. Then I broke the silence.

"About a few years ago… I'm sorry. Can we just forget about it and still be friends?"

Alvin stared at me for a moment. "I've healed," he said softly. "And I never said we can't be friends."

I smiled.

He smiled back.

"So… how have you been?"

And just like that, the awkwardness cracked. We talked. About school, life, everything in between. I learned he was doing his master's in computer science right here in the city. He seemed more grounded, more focused.

Before I knew it, it was 10 p.m.

"You hungry?" I asked, standing up and heading to the kitchen.

"Starving," he said, grinning.

I boiled 4 eggs then I made a some spaghetti, and sprinkled in everything I had—tomatoe paste, onions, pepper, seasoning cubes,. Nothing fancy, but he loved it.

We sat side by side, eating from mismatched bowls, laughing between bites.

And when he left, I stood at the door for a moment, then walked to my bed, lay down, and stared at the ceiling.

I closed my eyes and smiled.

I can do this.

I won't run. Again.

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