A Second Chance PT 1

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A Second Chance

You slowly make your way inside your apartment complex carrying 4 plastic bags 2 in each hand filled with groceries. This is your second trip and with just your luck the elevator is out of order and you live on the 3rd floor which means that's 4 flights of stairs you have to walk up. It's 9 a.m. You just got off of work at 6 and took a nap in your car because the supermarket doesn't open till 7:30 and here you are on a hot morning in Nueva York breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth focusing all of your energy in making your way back into your apartment safe and sound. This is one of the parts you hate about bartending coming home so early in the morning after dealing with loud rude and obnoxious people all night. You love the rush and the adrenaline that comes with bartending. Memorizing drink orders, making the drinks, learning who's cheating on who. You love it you always had but now you're questioning your job as you steal a glance at your round belly that's peeking through your oversized shirt that's sticking to your skin. No one else knows it's there but you do.

Oh right, and you're 4 months pregnant.

It's just you and your baby, your ex he…. Well, let's not talk about him now, shall we? You just need to focus all of your energy on making your way back into the safety of your own apartment and these stairs aren't helping nor are the bags in your hands.

"One step at a time" You whisper as you reach the last flight of stairs.

"Can you move?" You jump startled at the deep voice coming from behind you. Immediately turning around you accidentally drop a bag and of course with your luck it was the bag that held your glass carton of milk. The contents spilled out all over the stairs and landed on the stranger's shoes. Your eyes widen in horror. You slowly drag your eyes from the bottom of their feet to their face. It's a fit middle-aged man with black hair that looks like it was gelled back but is now messy. He definitely has a few wrinkles on his face and you're pretty sure you just added another one. He's wearing a pair of black slacks that hug his thighs and a loose black top.

"Shit you scared me, let me go get something to clean up" You begin to place your bags down but you hear a dissatisfied grunt from the man.

"Just move"

"But your shoes" The man says nothing as he takes a step up towards you and he stands there looking at you expectedly. You give him a confused look before realizing that he wants you to move. Or more so that you have to move since the staircase is so narrow.  You watch as he makes his way into the 3rd floor and it isn't until you hear a door opening and closing that you look away from the direction that he went in.

Bringing your attention back to the stairs you let out a groan of frustration all you wanted to do was put these groceries away and go to sleep. But no now you have to clean up this mess and you just lost a carton of milk that you spent almost $5 on. Fucking inflation.

Sighing you trudge your way up the last flight of stairs making your way back to your apartment to get stuff to clean up the mess. You hope that's the last time you see him. That encounter was embarrassing enough.

But of course, it's not every day for the next two weeks you see him each morning as you come home from your shift. Each encounter always leaves you feeling embarrassed and leaves you feeling like he wants nothing to do with you. But by the 3rd day, you realize that the two of you are actually neighbors.

"I didn't know we were neighbors," You say as you both are unlocking your doors. When he doesn't say anything you decide to speak again. Maybe he didn't hear you.

"It's weird I only ever see you in the mornings I've never seen you anywhere else"

"Yeah let's keep it that way"  You turn around to face him but his door is already closing shut. Rude.

Miguel O'Hara One-ShotsWhere stories live. Discover now