Chapter 17: Can You Be My Girlfriend

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As the workday came to a close, Mon let out a sigh of relief, grateful that her time in the office was over. It meant she could finally escape the pressures of work and the tangled emotions she harbored towards Sam. With a sense of gratitude, Mon welcomed the arrival of the weekend, hoping for some respite from the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that had consumed her during the week.

As Mon made her way towards the bus stop, her mind continued to wrestle with the idea of rekindling things with Sam. She muttered under her breath, "If only Sam wasn't married..."

Unbeknownst to her, Sam was standing nearby, waiting for the valet to bring her car. Hearing Mon's comment, Sam chimed in, "If I wasn't married, then what, Mon?"

Sam approached Mon, gently taking her hand and earnestly asked, "Will you agree that we should be together again?"

Mon sighed, feeling conflicted. Sam continued, hopeful, "We can make it work, Mon."

But Mon couldn't ignore the reality. "It's not that simple, Sam," she replied, pulling her hand away. "You're married, and no matter how we look at it, this situation is wrong." With a heavy heart, Mon turned and walked away, leaving Sam behind.

As she watched Mon go, Sam muttered to herself, "I won't give up. I know Mon loves me."

As the valet driver arrived, Sam hurriedly hopped into her car and accelerated away as fast as she could.

Moments later, Mon arrived home, noticing a familiar pair of shoes outside the doorstep. With a deep sigh of frustration, she realized whose shoes they were but knew she couldn't escape the situation. Bracing herself, she entered the house.

Mon's father greeted her with a strained smile, his expression betraying a sense of unease. "You've got a visitor," he said, his tone tinged with awkwardness. Aware of the history between Mon and her visitor from three years ago, her parents couldn't help but sense the tension thickening in the room.

Mon's tone was urgent as she addressed Sam. "What are you doing here?" she asked, eyeing Sam sitting across from her parents in the living room.

Sam replied confidently, "You left me hanging earlier while we were talking, so I decided to come here to finish our conversation."

Feeling resigned, Mon looked at Sam, realizing she couldn't avoid the situation with her parents present. "Okay, let's talk," she reluctantly agreed.

As Sam began speaking, Mon's eyes widened in alarm as she glanced at her parents. "Not here, Sam," she exclaimed, her frustration evident.

Sam questioned, "If not here, then where?"

Furrowing her brows, Mon replied impatiently, "Okay, follow me to my room. We can talk privately." She grabbed Sam's arm, leading her away from the living room. "Excuse us, Mom, Dad," she quickly added before disappearing with Sam.

Mon gestured for Sam to enter her room, opening the door wide.

As Sam stepped inside, Mon closed the door behind them, allowing Sam to take in the familiar surroundings.

"You know, your room looks just the same," Sam remarked, casting her eyes around the room nostalgically. "I can still remember all the fun we used to have here," she added, her gaze lingering on Mon's bed.

Mon's eyes widened in apprehension, knowing exactly what Sam was alluding to.

"Sam, please," Mon interrupted, cutting off Sam before she could say anything more.

Sam grinned teasingly, her eyes now fixed on a small, familiar scrapbook nestled among the books on Mon's desk.

Curious, Sam approached the desk and picked up the old scrapbook.

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