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The man looked up at and gave another wide smile, making his already striking features stand out even more.

"Uhmm, miss, I would like to order this." he said, pointing to one of the dishes on the nu.

I quickly shifted my focus to sothing else, forcing myself to shake off thoughts I shouldn’t be entertaining.

He reminded too much of soone I had worked so hard to erase from my mind—a na and face I had buried long ago.

"Okay, sir. Just wait here for a few minutes." I replied with a polite smile, which he responded to with another bright grin.

I had seen this man many tis before in the restaurant. Every ti I was on shift, he always seed to be there too—sitting quietly, often watching from across the room.

And whenever I caught him looking, he would flash that sa warm smile. I always returned it with a small, courteous smile. Over ti, he had beco one of our regulars.

But today was different.

This was the first ti I saw him dressed formally that didn’t match the usual casual style I had grown used to seeing him in.

And today, I finally noticed sothing I hadn’t before: the logo on one of his companion’s shirts. It belonged to a well-known company, one I was painfully familiar with—a company owned by soone I once knew far too well.

Once the food was ready, I carefully arranged the dishes on a tray and carried them over to his table. I gently set the bowls down in front of them, making sure each item was neatly placed.

Then, I brought over the pitcher of water and filled their glasses one by one, trying to keep my hands steady and my mind from wandering back to the na behind that logo.

I was just about to pour water into the last glass—the one in front of the beautiful woman seated across from the smiling guy—when she suddenly nudged my hand.

Startled, I lost my grip for a mont, and the water I was about to pour into her glass spilled straight onto her lap.

"Oh my goodness!"

The woman shrieked, imdiately standing up as the cold water soaked the front of her blouse.

Because she had bumped my arm, the spill landed on her. But instead of acknowledging what she had done, she acted as though the whole thing was entirely my fault.

"What did you do, miss?!" one of her friends exclaid, rushing to her side to help dry her off with a napkin.

I glanced at the woman, silently asking why she had done it. But she just scowled at .

"You should say sorry, miss!" she snapped, as if I had deliberately poured the water on her.

"I’m really sorry, ma’am," I said respectfully, bowing slightly. "But I also think it would be fair if you apologized as well. After all, it was your fault for bumping my arm, which caused the water to spill."

"What?!" she replied incredulously, shooting a glare at before turning toward her friends, clearly expecting them to take her side.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not at fault here. I’m the custor, so you should be serving us properly!"

Just as she said that, my boss arrived at the scene.

"What seems to be the problem here, ma’am, sir?" he asked politely as he approached the table. His eyes landed on , and his expression instantly changed.

"Sylvia, what are you doing here?" he said curtly, his tone sharp and annoyed. But the mont he turned back to the custors, his deanor softened, all smiles and politeness again.

"Has our waitress done sothing to upset you?"

"Are you the owner of this restaurant?" the woman asked dramatically. "I just want to report your waitress. She couldn’t even offer a proper apology and even tried to bla for accidentally bumping into her while she was serving. And look—she spilled water all over !"

My boss imdiately raised an eyebrow and shot a sharp glare—the kind that scread, ’You’re in trouble later.’ Then he turned back to our snobby custor, and in a flash, his expression softened into a fake, pleasant smile.

"I sincerely apologize on behalf of my waitress, dear custors."

"She tends to make mistakes quite often, but I’ve been patient with her for a while now. I hope you can be patient with her too. Don’t worry—I’ll deal with her later."

I felt my knees weaken. I already knew what was coming: a long lecture, maybe even another deduction from my paycheck. Just the thought of it made my stomach sink.

As my boss turned to walk away, I noticed the smug smile spreading across the woman’s face. When she caught looking, she rolled her eyes at .

"Wait, sir!" a man’s voice called out.

It was the guy who always smiled at —the one who was a regular custor.

"Uhm, I’d just like to clarify sothing," he said, stepping forward. "It wasn’t entirely Miss Waitress’s fault. I saw what happened. My friend here also played a part. If she hadn’t bumped into the waitress while she was serving, none of this would’ve happened."

Then he shot a cold, pointed look at the woman beside him.

"Is that so... sir?" my boss said, trying to keep his composure while shooting a warning glance.

"Hey, I’m the custor here!" the snobby woman snapped. "The custor is always right, so you’re supposed to take my side!"

Her friends, on the other hand, remained silent—unsure whether to support her or not. They seed uneasy about the man who had spoken up in my defense.

"Yes... you’re absolutely right, ma’am."

My boss quickly agreed, then turned to the kind man. "So sir, there’s no need to worry—I’ll personally make sure our waitress is properly disciplined."

"Alright, I understand," the man replied. "I just wanted to clarify things, so I hope you won’t be too hard on her. It really wasn’t entirely her fault."

"Don’t worry, sir," my boss assured him. "I’ll take care of everything."

"If you’d like, sir, we can offer you a discount on your al as an apology for the inconvenience."

"There’s no need for that," the man replied kindly. "We’ll still pay the full amount for our al."

As I walked over to their table, my head bowed in a silent gesture of apology, the woman rely scoffed at .

Throughout the rest of the ti I served them, she continued to glare at with disdain. anwhile, the kind man who had stood up for kept offering warm, reassuring smiles.

Just as I had predicted, my boss gave a long, draining lecture after my shift.

He went on and on about professionalism and accountability, and in the end, he deducted a significant amount from my paycheck—again. He said it was ’so I’d learn my lesson.’

Exhausted and disheartened, I dragged myself to the kids’ school after work, my feet heavy and my spirit low.

But the mont I saw my two children running toward with bright, joyful faces, everything changed. My exhaustion vanished in an instant.

I picked up my pace, and as soon as I reached them, I pulled them into a tight embrace, holding them like I never wanted to let go.

No matter how bad my day gets, it all fades the mont I see them. They are my happiness—my everything. And no matter what happens, I’ll never give them up.

Not to anyone. Not even to soone powerful. I’d fight the whole world if I had to—just to keep them safe and with .

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