The Porch
The morning sun poured lazily through the trees, casting a soft golden glow over the front porch. Emily stepped out, the warm breeze brushing against her bare arms as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The sound of an approaching car caught her attention.
A familiar figure stepped out — tall, casual, and far too confident for her liking.
"Well, look who's here," her ex-husband smirked, holding their daughter Olivia's tiny hand.
Emily's heart softened the moment her little girl ran toward her. She bent down, planting a loving kiss on Olivia's forehead.
"My baby," she whispered with a smile. "Did you have fun with Dada?"
"Yes!" Olivia beamed.
Emily chuckled. "What did you two get up to?"
"We went to the park, swimming… and I ate ice cream!"
"Well, someone had the perfect day," Emily grinned, brushing fingers through her daughter's hair.
Her ex cleared his throat. "Mind if we come in for a bit?"
Emily straightened up. "Yeah, of course."
He gently tugged Olivia's hand. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go before Mommy changes her mind."
Just then, a voice called out from the car.
"Emi-llyy! Hii!"
Emily turned, startled, as a woman stepped out of the vehicle — long brown hair, tight mocha dress, matching the color of her car a little too well.
"Oh! Hi," Emily replied, shielding her eyes from the sun.
The woman walked closer with a polite smile. "I'm Rosa. Your ex-husband's girlfriend."
Emily forced a neutral expression. "Oh—sorry, I didn't realize someone else was still in the car."
Rosa laughed softly. "No, it's not your fault. I mean, brown dress, brown car, brown everything… who even wears brown anymore?"
Emily gave a small, stiff chuckle. "Well, it's really nice to meet you."
She glanced at Olivia. "Did she harass you in the car?"
Rosa laughed. "Oh god, no! She's a total sweetheart. Really. She's got a sharp sense of humor and picks things up so quickly."
A flicker of pride crossed Emily's face — mixed with a little unease. "Yeah… I know. I'm her mom."
Before the awkward silence stretched too long, her ex came back from the house, bottle of water in hand.
"Oh wow, you two already met?" he said with a smirk. "Nice."
Rosa nodded. "I was just telling Emily how amazing Olivia is."
He smiled. "Hey, Rosa had an idea—maybe the two of you could grab lunch next week?"
Emily hesitated, brushing the hem of her dress. "Oh… sure. Yeah, why not."
He chuckled. "Perfect. But before you two become besties, we really gotta get going."
He ushered Rosa and Olivia toward the car with his usual smirk, while Emily stood on the porch, smile fading, thoughts spinning.
Heat in the Gym
Mia was at the gym like every other morning — focused, disciplined, and in control. Her black sports bra clung to her curves, paired with tight leggings that left nothing to the imagination. Her skin glistened as she powered through her routine.
She moved to the bench press station, spotting a guy named Jacky while he pushed through reps.
His eyes weren't on the weights — they were glued to her chest.
"If I had this view every day," he said, grinning, "I'd have abs by now."
Mia didn't flinch. She adjusted his wrists calmly. "Come on. Five more reps. Focus."
But Jacky wasn't done.
"I'm Jacky," he said, his voice low and cocky. "Hot blood. One chance with me, baby — you won't regret it."
Mia stepped back, folding her arms. "That's it. You're done."
Then he did it — reached out and cupped her breast with a sleazy smile.
"What? You feel bad just 'cause I said what I was thinking?"
In a flash, Mia dropped the dumbbell in her hand. It crashed straight onto Jacky's foot.
He howled in pain. "Fuck!"
Mia's eyes burned. "You bastard. Don't you ever touch me again."
She didn't wait for a reply. She stormed off, heading straight for the manager's office.
The manager sat behind his desk, hands folded, expression unreadable.
"Mia… we checked the CCTV footage. There's proof you harmed someone."
Mia folded her arms. "Did the footage also show what he did to me? That wasn't wanted. That wasn't okay."
The manager leaned back. "You know your rep around here, Mia. Maybe he thought you were… open."
Mia glared. "So that justifies it? You think that makes it my fault?"
"I'm saying respect isn't something you demand. It's something you earn."
She stepped forward. "I don't want respect from guys like that. Tell him to keep his hands — and his dick — to himself."
He raised a brow. "Then maybe you should learn to keep your legs together."
Mia's voice turned cold. "You don't feel proud being a woman, do you? You feel ashamed. Probably 'cause your parents didn't love you enough growing up. That's what it sounds like."
The manager blinked. "Mia… what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about being done with this place." She reached for her bag. "Transfer my salary for this month. I quit."
"Mia, don't—"
But she was already turning. She flipped him the middle finger and walked out, head high, not looking back once.