A Chance Encounter

Bridget grunted, hoisting the heavy designer suitcase onto the black rubber conveyor belt with a final, forceful shove. She wiped a stray strand of hair from her forehead and turned to face her friend.

"Why did you suddenly get divorced and decide to go to school?"

The question had been bubbling inside Bridget for days. The bustling airport terminal buzzed around them, filled with the echoing voices of announcements and the steady hum of rolling luggage, but Bridget’s focus remained pinned on the quiet woman beside her. They had known each other since high school, ending up in the same university department despite their contrasting natures. Bridget was the loud, ambitious corporate climber who spent her life in airports for real estate deals. Valerie was always the quiet, well-behaved one. Returning from a grueling month-long business trip, Bridget had been blindsided by the news. Valerie was divorced and moving abroad for a master's degree.

To Bridget, the marriage between Valerie and Declan Cross had always been a baffling mystery. They had seemed like two strangers colliding out of nowhere, rushing into a union less than a month after a random class reunion. Now, the abrupt, quiet end to that marriage made even less sense.

Valerie watched her luggage disappear down the dark tunnel of the conveyor belt. She turned back, her expression calm and unreadable.

"I want to change my life."

"Your life is very good now, isn't it? You don't need to work and have someone to support you. Many people envy your good luck." Bridget raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's better to rely on myself than on others. Besides, I didn't marry Declan for his money." Valerie shook her head, her voice steady.

"Then why? Declan doesn't look like a jerk." Bridget pressed the issue, her brow furrowing in deep suspicion. In her world, sudden divorces meant either infidelity or a catastrophic clash of values. Declan and Valerie never seemed to fit those dramatic molds.

"It has nothing to do with him. It's my fault." Valerie offered a soft, quiet insistence, taking the heavy weight of the blame without a second of hesitation.

"You two got married and divorced in such a hurry. Did you sign a contract with him?" Bridget let out a dry, joking chuckle, trying to lighten the sudden tension.

"Couples sign contracts to get something from each other. What does he see in me?" Valerie smoothed the strap of her shoulder bag.

"Your face, figure, educational background, and IQ... Which one of them isn't worth his attention?" Bridget countered, listing the traits on her fingers.

Valerie met her friend's gaze with a sobering look.

"A man like him can get any woman he wants."

Bridget tilted her head, pondering the sheer magnitude of Declan's wealth and absolute power. She let out a soft sigh of concession.

"That's true."

The airline staff member handed back the passport and boarding pass. Valerie took the documents, glancing at the silver watch on her slim wrist.

"There's still some time before boarding. Shall we have a meal first?"

Bridget nodded, her bright demeanor returning. She stepped forward and threw a warm arm around Valerie's shoulder, steering her away from the check-in counters.

As they walked toward the dining concourse, Valerie opened her bag to tuck her passport safely inside. Bridget suddenly tugged on her arm to point out a nearby cafe. The sudden movement jolted Valerie’s hand. The dark blue passport slipped from her fingers, tumbling through the air and landing flat on the polished marble floor.

Valerie gasped, dropping to her knees to retrieve it. Before her fingers could brush the edge of the booklet, a gleaming, immaculate leather shoe stepped squarely onto the document.

The owner of the shoe froze, realizing the misstep.

"I'm sorry."

A clear, low voice drifted down. The man lifted his foot and bent down in one fluid motion, picking up the passport. He extended his hand, offering it back.

Valerie reached out, taking the passport, and lifted her gaze. She stared at the man’s face, a flicker of non-recognition passing through her eyes.

"Valerie?" the man asked, his tone carrying a note of uncertain surprise.

Bridget leaned in, her eyes widening in genuine shock.

"Gideon?"

The name instantly unlocked a dusty corner of Valerie’s memory. Gideon Yates. He was a senior during their freshman year in the Architectural Department, serving as their guidance counselor for a brief period. He was universally known as a brilliant, aloof genius. Handsome, self-disciplined, and praised by every professor, he possessed a cold aura that kept everyone at a polite distance. In that specific way, he reminded Valerie of Declan. Because Valerie herself preferred a quiet, invisible existence during her school days, she had barely spoken two words to Gideon outside of strictly academic necessities.

"Gideon," Valerie greeted him, her voice carrying a trace of awkwardness.

Gideon offered a polite, handsome smile, seemingly unfazed by her initial blank stare.

"Long time no see. I didn't expect to meet you here." Bridget jumped into the conversation, her natural networking skills taking over.

"Long time no see." Gideon nodded, his posture relaxed despite his tailored, formal attire.

"I just talked to someone about you a few days ago, and I met you today. Maybe it's fate!" Bridget beamed, checking her watch. "Gideon, are you in a hurry? Let's have a meal together."

Gideon mirrored her action, glancing at his own watch before giving a slow nod.

"Okay."

They moved away from the bustling thoroughfare, settling on a quiet, upscale restaurant tucked near the international departure gates. The ambient lighting was dim and soothing, accompanied by the soft strumming of a live acoustic singer on a small corner stage.

A waiter brought menus the moment they sat down. Bridget slid the leather-bound booklets across the dark wood table.

"See what you want to eat."

"Anything will do."

Valerie and Gideon spoke in unison.

Bridget let out a surprised laugh, her eyes darting between the two of them.

"Huh, you have such a tacit understanding."

Valerie offered a faint smile, pushing her menu closer to the center of the table. She felt an odd lack of appetite. Her stomach churned slightly, a symptom she casually blamed on a restless night of sleep.

"You two order."

Gideon picked up the menu, studying the options with quiet focus, while Bridget eagerly began pointing out dishes to the waiter.

Valerie let her gaze wander across the elegant dining room. The low murmur of conversations blurred together into white noise, until her eyes locked onto a familiar figure at the adjacent table.

Miranda Cross.

Declan’s mother sat with her back facing Valerie, dressed in immaculate designer clothes, leaning over a pristine white tablecloth. She was engaged in a fierce, loud conversation with a well-dressed friend. The ambient noise of the restaurant did nothing to muffle the biting venom in her voice.

"Valerie is not pregnant either. I thought she was infertile, but it turned out that my son didn't want a child." Miranda scoffed, taking a harsh sip from her crystal water glass.

The woman across from Miranda leaned in, her eyes wide with gossip. "Declan said that?"

"Yes. I don't know if I should be happy or sad about this. His father and I don't like Valerie. She's not a suitable match for Declan. She can't help him with his career. Moreover, her family is a massive burden." Miranda’s voice grew sharper, cutting through the jazz music playing in the background. "I told Declan to divorce her, but he refused. I thought it was because they had a good relationship and he couldn't bear to part with her. But now it seems that Declan is too responsible to abandon his wife. Otherwise, it would be impossible for him not to want a child. Although he looks cold and difficult to get close to, he has always liked children."

At their own table, the menu slipped from Bridget’s hands. She shot a look of pure, horrified worry at Valerie.

Valerie kept her posture perfectly straight. She offered Bridget a tight, comforting smile, a silent plea to ignore the vicious words and keep the peace. She had spent enough time in the Cross family to know that causing a public scene would only bring more exhausting chaos down on her head.

Bridget swallowed hard, forcing her attention away from the toxic woman nearby. She turned her bright, artificial focus onto Gideon.

"Why are you in Belmont too? Are you here on a business trip?"

"No. I am a native of Belmont." Gideon replied, his tone even and flat.

"What a coincidence! Are you planning to work in Belmont?" Bridget asked, her jaw dropping slightly.

Gideon gave a slow shake of his head.

"No."

Seeing Bridget’s eager, expectant expression, he elaborated.

"I'm going to study for a while."

"You're not going to study at Stonybrook Institute of Technology, are you?" Bridget joked, letting out a breezy laugh.

Gideon’s hand paused in mid-air just as he reached for his coffee cup. He looked at Bridget, and then his deep brown eyes slid over to Valerie.

"You guys are going too?"

"Oh my! Are you really going there?" Bridget gasped, leaning over the table.

"You'll not take the same flight, will you?" Bridget demanded, turning to Valerie. She tapped her friend's arm. "Take out your ticket. Let me see."

Valerie unzipped her bag and pulled out the crisp paper ticket. Across the table, Gideon retrieved his own from his inner jacket pocket. They placed them on the table side by side. The flight numbers and departure times matched flawlessly.

"That's great. I'll leave Valerie to you, Gideon." Bridget beamed, clapping her hands together in fateful delight.

"Congratulations." Gideon looked at Valerie, the corners of his mouth lifting into a genuine smile.

"Thank you." Valerie returned the gesture, keeping her voice soft and polite.

A sharp ringtone pierced the air. Bridget glanced at her phone screen and grimaced.

"You guys chat. I'll take a call first."

She stood up, grabbing her purse, and hurried out of the restaurant toward the quieter terminal concourse.

Her departure sucked all the easy air out of the space. A heavy, awkward silence settled over the table. Valerie felt the strange, faint wave of nausea roll through her stomach again. The feeling was sudden and unpleasant, making the thought of conversation exhausting. She picked up her porcelain cup, taking small, cautious sips of the bitter black coffee. Trying to ease the stiff atmosphere, she turned her head to watch the acoustic singer on the stage.

Beside her, Gideon made no effort to fill the quiet void. He sat perfectly still, turning his head to follow her line of sight toward the stage. But his focus shifted. His deep brown eyes moved from the singer and rested intently on Valerie's side profile. A subtle, unmistakable hint of nostalgia and hidden longing softened his usually aloof features. He watched her in silence, caught in a quiet memory.

Neither of them noticed the movement at the next table.

Miranda had paused her vicious complaining. She turned slightly in her plush leather chair, her sharp eyes locking onto Valerie and the handsome man sitting beside her. A cold, vindictive smirk curled the edges of her lips. She retrieved her sleek smartphone from her designer clutch and raised it covertly. The camera lens focused on the pair, framing the intimate, quiet moment between them.

The shutter clicked silently.

Miranda reviewed the high-resolution photo on her screen. She opened her messaging app, selected Declan’s contact name, and attached the image. Her manicured fingers flew across the keyboard, typing out a malicious, biting message.

[What's going on with Valerie? She is going abroad alone with a man after getting married. What will others think?]

She hit send.