Chances for Serendipity

by Natalie Chung

  “I didn’t really mean it. What I said to you,” I said since Liz had gone uncharacteristically quiet. I knew I sounded vague, but the last thing I wanted to do was repeat the damning words I’d once said to her.

  My hands gripped hard on the glass of iced coffee as I recalled “that day.” The day Jeremy had broken my heart. It wasn’t a day I liked to remember. I made it a point to divert my thoughts any time they came anywhere close to thinking about it. But enough was enough.

  Like the snapping of a rubber band, the bad memory flung back into my mind.

  The day Jeremy had broken up with me, I’d rushed over to Liz’s home after my meltdown to her on the phone.

  “It’s okay, Sere.” Liz rubbed circles on my back as I lay slumped on her bed in a messed heap, surrounded by used tissues. I’d been crying for a whole hour, an overflowing, pathetic waterfall of tears. “He didn’t deserve you.”

  Like a lovesick fool, I didn’t listen to what she said. “Why would he do that? Who would he even love? I should ask him, right? I deserve to know at least that much. That girl needs to know she’s a boyfriend stealer.”

  “Sere…” Liz paused in her back-rubbing ministrations. “I don’t think that will help you.”

  “Who said I need help? I just need closure.” I pulled back from her, my hands balling into fists. “How can I move on from him if I don’t even know who he’s moving on with?” Anger burned like a fire within me. Every thought I had of Jeremy, of what he confessed to me, only stoked it.

  “You need to let it go,” Liz urged me. Even behind the glossiness of my recently shed tears, I saw something like fear shining in the depths of her large brown eyes, which made no sense. She chewed on a nail, a habit I’d grown up recognising as a nervous tic. Even in my heated anger, something felt off to me. Why would she be nervous? Shouldn’t she be angry too? I would’ve been kicking her boyfriend where it hurt most if the situation had been reversed. I could only think of one possible reason for her nervousness.

  “You know something.” The thought teetered on the edge of my mind, threatening to spill more fuel to the internal fire. I tamped it down. Surely there was a reasonable answer. Maybe she’d heard something. “What do you know, Lizbeth?” I used her full name to draw her out. Set up the bait.

  She took it like a fish on a hook. “I—I don’t think you want to know.”

  That was where she was wrong. There was nothing more I wanted to know. “Tell me.”

  “Sere,” she pleaded, resignation lining her voice. “I wanted to tell you, but if you didn’t know—”

  If I didn’t know? My best friend knew about this all along?

  The anger I’d held at bay suddenly built up inside me at warp speed. No, no, no—

  I exploded.

  “You knew about Jere liking someone else? Why didn’t you tell me?” My hands clamped down on both her shoulders, shaking hard. “Who does he love?”

  Liz’s eyes bulged. Her hands flew up in surrender. “I didn’t know! Not at first. But then my parents started inviting him over…” Her face leached of colour. “You have to know, I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t know how. She already has everything. I didn’t want her to get your boyfriend too. But then she did. She always gets everything she wants in the end.”

  What was she talking about? My anger waned, and my mind grew sluggish in its attempts to comprehend the ambiguity in her words.

  Liz moved to clasp my wrists and drew my hands off her shoulders. As my hands fell limply to my sides, everything else fell into place.

  She always gets everything she wants in the end. There was only one person who Liz thought owned the world and more.

  “Your sister,” I rasped out. “You’re saying Jere loves your sister?”

  A loud laugh cut off the rest of the nightmarish memory, jolting me back to the present. I focused on Liz, her head tipped back, cackling like she’d lost the plot. “Wait. You think I’ve hated you all this time just because you called me a—”

  I covered my ears. “Don’t say it!” I’d sooner wash my mouth with soap than hear her repeat what I had called her.

  “Oh, come on. I’ve been called a lot worse than what you called me that day.”

  Wait… She hadn’t hated me for that?

  She continued to laugh. “I know it was a lot coming from you, though. You’re like some saint who doesn’t swear.”

  “I’m not a saint.” Far from it.

  “No, you’re not. I wouldn’t have expected you to be when you found out.” Her expression turned sombre. “What Jerky did was horrible, but he didn’t cheat on you, you know. He ended it with you before he started a relationship with Ellie.”

  “That’s not why it hurt.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she whispered, her voice filled with unwanted sympathy. “You loved him.” She levelled her heavy gaze on me. It reminded me of Aiden’s gaze. All-seeing. Unnerving. “But he left you. Just like that. It’s kind of like the same way you just left me.”

  That was so not the same thing. In retrospect, I saw now how my heartbreak had morphed into a fiery rage. Heartbreak focused on myself. Rage, on the other hand, could be directed at something else, and I’d found that I liked having something else to take the blame. To wish horrible things to happen upon. But that was no longer the case. “Liz—”

  “Nope, let me finish. You left me, but I deserved it. I deserve your hate.” She blinked rapidly, and her throat bobbed. “You’re not the only one who thought a lot about things this past year, you know. I’ve got a lot to apologise for too. I’m sorry I was a crap friend. I should’ve told you about my sister and Jerky.”

  “Why didn’t you?” That was something I still didn’t understand. The betrayal.

  Why hadn’t my own best friend told me about my boyfriend spending so much time with her sister? I’d never gotten the answer—had always convinced myself it was unnecessary—because I’d run away from her that day after my outburst.

  “It’s stupid, really.” Liz palmed her face and let out a long groan. “At first, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to stress you out over nothing. You were dealing with a hard year at uni. I thought, was there any point in telling you? Jerky was just being a goody-two-shoes. You always overthought things too, so you definitely would’ve had a fit over it if you’d known. And I figured if anyone should’ve told you, it should’ve been him.”

  “He didn’t.” Although he’d told me he spent time volunteering to help cancer patients, he never mentioned one of those patients was my best friend’s sister. Pretty big detail he’d omitted there. “Why didn’t you tell me later then?”

  “Because I could tell Ellie really liked him.” Her face twisted into a grimace. “I wasn’t sure if he felt the same, but I thought if I told you then, everything would go downhill from there. You would break up with him and then Ellie would definitely get him. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.”

  If I’d still held a grudge, I would’ve cornered Liz. Put her on the spot. What didn’t you want to happen more? Me breaking up with my boyfriend, or Ellie getting what she wanted? They were two very different motives. Selfless versus selfish. But that wouldn’t accomplish anything now. Reopening old wounds wouldn’t do anyone good. I would know—I had plenty of them struggling to heal as it was. As for Liz, if she still had a problem with her sister, that wasn’t healthy either. “Do you still feel that way about Ellie?”

  “I—no. I’m better now. I try not to care so much about her.” Her gaze lowered to the table. “But I know that’s no excuse for breaking the girl code and hiding something important from you. I really messed things up. I’m sorry, Sere.”

  I leaned back in my chair, drinking the rest of my iced coffee with shaking hands. The tiny remains of ice clattered as I set the glass back on the table. It was true Liz had betrayed my trust, but I hadn’t been much better. I’d never given her a chance to explain herself back then. What was a person meant to do without chances?

  My long
-forsaken mantra floated into my head. Live your life with no regrets.

  She was sorry. I was sorry. Was there any point in prolonging the hate? Wouldn’t I come to regret it if I never forgave her? Maybe our friendship would never perfectly piece itself back together again, but I’d be lying if I said I wanted to live the rest of my life without her in it.

  I sighed. “I think it’s fair to say we were both in a bad place that night. We can start from square one or whatever, but I think we should leave all that baggage in the past now. What do you think?”

  Liz’s wide eyes met mine, as if she couldn’t quite believe me. As if she was still waiting for the punchline where I told her to get lost. Maybe if she’d explained it to me back then I would’ve, but I was past all that now. I didn’t love Jeremy anymore, and whoever he loved no longer concerned me either.

  Liz trembled as she cupped her mouth and nodded. “I want us to start over. More than anything.”

  A zing of guilt struck me. I guess I hadn’t been the only one affected by our separation. “I forgive you.” And because I truly did, I thought it was time to come clean to someone about everything. If anyone could give me blunt and firm advice, it was Liz. “I guess you want to ask me about that article you saw?”

  Liz perked up like a dog smelling a treat, straightening in her seat. “Yes! You. And. Aiden. Andale. What’s going on there?”

  I raised a hand to placate her. “I know, I know. I’ll explain everything.”

  And so I did. I told her everything from the beginning. His sudden appearance at my bakery. Him volunteering to help me. One by one, I recited each moment of my time with him. A tender ache bloomed in my chest. Reliving the memories was like peeling away the measly bandages I’d wrapped on, but I had to see if the wounds had scabbed over. I had to get past this pain.

  Liz grinned like the Cheshire cat when I got to the part about New Year’s Eve. “I can’t believe that was your favour for losing. A romantic dinner by the harbour with him? You totally like him, don’t you?”

  A hot flush of embarrassment coursed through me. “Yeah,” I whispered, because there was no denying the truth anymore. I liked Aiden Andale. Really liked him.

  Liz squealed. “I knew it! Are you two together now? I saw that article about him with Isabelle Dunham, but—”

  “We’re not together.” I’d probably messed up the chances of that ever happening. “I told him he was mistaken about my feelings.”

  The excitement on her face immediately sizzled out, leaving her frowning at me. “Why would you lie and say that?”

  I released a shaky breath. “How was I supposed to know if he really liked me? Maybe he did, but how would I ever know if it would last? How would I know it wouldn’t end like my last relationship?”

  Her frown deepened. “You never know until you try. And you didn’t try.”

  A heavy weight pressed on my chest. What she said echoed Mum’s message.

  No, I hadn’t tried. I hadn’t risked the chance to try.

  “Hey.” Liz’s expression lightened. “It’s not the end of the world. You can apologise to him and tell him the truth.”

  “Hmm.” If I told Aiden I’d lied, what would he think? Would he hear me out? Get mad at me for lying? Tell me that he was so over me? “Maybe I’ll text him.” The worst response for a text would be him ignoring it, but at least then I’d know I’d tried.

  “Text him? Don’t take the easy way out.” Liz rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t like confrontations, Sere, but if you want the guy, you’ve got to put in some effort.”

  “Should I call him then?” I wasn’t sure if he’d even answer.

  “Why don’t you go to the Australian Open and tell him in person?”

  My jaw dropped at her suggestion. “I don’t know about that…” I had yet to sort out my work problems, but even without that, there were other costs. The airfare from Sydney to Melbourne wouldn’t be cheap and the accommodation wouldn’t be either. Having the Aus Open ground pass from Aiden was my only advantage. But to actually go there without planning anything? It was so spontaneous. Too spontaneous for someone like me.

  My stomach gurgled as if to agree.

  Liz laughed, a melodic sound that I’d missed hearing for the past year. “Well, you can’t make a decision on an empty stomach.” She took out the plastic container of egg tarts I’d given her, removed the lid, and handed me one. “Here.” Then she grabbed another and took a huge bite out of it. “Mmm. I’ve missed this.”

  “The egg tarts?”

  “Not just the egg tarts. I missed this.” She gestured between us with her half-eaten tart, making crumbs scatter across the table. “Oops.”

  I chuckled, taking a tentative bite of my own tart. The crust fell apart in my mouth, mixing with the soft, pudding-like texture of egg custard. “I missed this too.” Having someone to confide in, to share my thoughts with.

  A heavy weight lifted off my chest, and my lips curved into a smile as I realised what emotion I was feeling. An emotion I hadn’t genuinely felt since Aiden left Sydney.

  Happiness.

  Chapter 27

  It was hard to believe that at the beginning of last year, I’d jumped at the opportunity to take a part-time position at this big law firm. It had been my big goal. The one I’d worked my butt off for the past few years. I’d studied hard for it. Endured a lot to earn it.

  And now I was about to throw it all out the window.

  My boss released a gruff sigh that was doubly audible over the phone. “I thought it was an April fool’s joke from HR when they told me you handed in your resignation. But no, it’s only the middle of January. Just when I was going to promote you. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

  I paced around the empty office meeting room, jitters running through my body. I wiped the sweaty palm of my free hand on my dress and cleared my throat. “Yes, I’m sure.” As sure as I ever could be. It was funny how unsure I’d been before about taking this huge leap of faith, but the last month and a half had taught me everything I needed to know about how to live my life. “I’ve thought a lot about it, and this is my final decision.”

  Sure a promotion and big pay raise were great things I could gain, but there were other more important things I had my heart set on now.

  “I understand,” he said, though I suspected he didn’t really. Who in their right mind would quit just when their boss said they’d promote them? After they’d spent years of studying at uni, completing additional courses and working many hours of compulsory legal training just so they could become a paralegal?

  Me, apparently.

  My boss let out another sigh. “Well, it’s been great having you on the team, Sere. I guess I won’t be seeing you since you’ll be gone by the time I’m back from my holiday.” A loud chorus of cheering and clapping echoed through his phone speakers, reminding me of where that holiday was.

  The Australian Open. Lucky him. Not that I was jealous, but I would have given anything to be anywhere but here, stuck in this office. Too bad I couldn’t be. I might’ve been resigning, but I still had to work for a few more weeks before I could be officially done with this job.

  Ah well. I’d take a holiday somewhere after all this was over.

  Mondays were usually the bane of my existence, when my mind was preoccupied with dreading another four tiring days of work. Today, however, I had something to look forward to, besides soon leaving my stressful job forever.

  As soon as I collapsed onto a seat on the train home, I dug out my earphones from my handbag and popped them into my ears. Aus Open match highlights were already up. I made it a habit to watch them every year whenever I couldn’t watch the actual matches.

  Wicked forehands, surprising drop shots, consecutive aces—the highlights never failed to entertain. I was still riding on the high of watching the end of the last video—a clever lob over the opponent—when the next video suggestion appeared. It took me a few seconds to notice the new suggestion. Unlike all the previous
ly suggested videos, this one wasn’t a match highlights one. My pulse thumped hard in my ears as I stared at the title. And stared some more.

  Aiden Andale: “Why don’t I let everyone in on a little secret?”—Australian Open On-Court Interview 1R.

  A little secret. What little secret? Although I knew he’d won his match—I’d viewed the scores on my phone during lunch break—I hadn’t seen this. Unable to resist the temptation, my finger pressed on the preview image and the video buffered to life.

  Aiden took up the left half of the screen. He held a drink bottle in his hand. His hair was pulled back by a dark blue headband that matched his equally dark blue shirt. A knot formed in my stomach at the sight of him. He looked good. So good. There was no other word for it. It hurt to look at him in his natural element, dressed like he was all ready to win a Grand Slam.

  A male interviewer who I recognised as a former professional tennis player stood beside Aiden with a microphone. “Congratulations on your win, Aiden. I think we can all agree that was a really tough match out in the heat today. Back when you were down a break in the second set, it seemed like this match could’ve easily gotten away from you. How did you manage to recover?”

  “Well…” Aiden ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. “I tried to focus a bit more on each point instead of the bigger picture. I needed to concentrate on hitting my shots better because there was nothing I could do about how well my opponent played.”

  My throat closed up at the sound of his husky tone. Had it really been more than two weeks since I’d last heard his voice? How had I gone so long without hearing it?

  “You showed immense control out there over your emotions. It looked like you wanted to break your racket right after you lost that crucial point, but you didn’t. How were you able to stay in control?”