Maxon stood by Rose's front door, his hands full of carefully chosen gifts—flowers, chocolates, a bracelet she once admired, and a handwritten letter tucked inside a velvet box. He rang the bell twice, his heart thumping hard in his chest. She opened the door slowly, her expression cold.
"Rose..." he began, voice low and pleading. "I messed up. I know I did. But I've come to make it right."
"You think gifts will fix everything?" she crossed her arms.
"No," he said quickly. "But I love you. I can't stop thinking about you. Please, don't let what happened end us."
Rose scoffed. "What happened was you tried to surprise me with a romantic gift, and I never got it. Instead, your little side thing—Shima—got the teddy bear and the card."
"It was a mix-up. A stupid, terrible mix-up."
"One I can't forget, Maxon. You made me feel like an afterthought." She stepped back. "Leave, Maxon. Please."
He stood there, watching her close the door. His fingers tightened around the gift box. He blinked hard and turned around, walking away slowly like someone who had just lost a part of himself.
Earlier that week at SwiftX Courier Services
Inside Daisy's modest but neat office, Isabella and Lucas stood before her desk. Daisy held a brown folder labeled "Interior Design Contract – ROSE."
"This is a big one," Daisy said, looking between them. "Rose Johnson. Very influential. She requested home decor services through one of our premium clients."
Lucas whistled low. "That's... Maxon's girlfriend."
Isabella's brows rose, unsure how to feel. "You're sending us?"
"Yes," Daisy confirmed. "Day one is for measurements. You go in, assess the space, come back with a list of materials. Day two and onward is for execution. And Isabella," she added sharply, "any more errors like the gift mix-up, and there'll be serious consequences."
"Yes, ma," Isabella replied.
Day One
Rose welcomed them warmly. Isabella took notes while Lucas measured walls and windows. The house was beautiful—minimalist with soft tones. Rose walked them through what she wanted: floral corners, layered curtains, art pieces with coastal touches.
Maxon wasn't home. Everything went smoothly.
Day Two
Lucas and Isabella arrived with paint samples, curtain rods, and decorative pieces in boxes. As they worked in the living room, rearranging furniture and testing color palettes, the front door swung open.
Maxon.
He stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened, then narrowed.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he barked.
Isabella froze, paintbrush in hand. "I'm here to work."
"No," Maxon snapped. "Not here. Not in her house."
Before Isabella could respond, Rose appeared from the hallway. "What's going on here?"
"She can't work here!" Maxon shouted.
Rose stepped between them. "Why are you questioning my workers in my house?"
"Because she—" Maxon began, but stopped. His jaw clenched.
Rose turned to Isabella. "What's going on?"
Lucas stepped forward. "It's... complicated. It was our fault."
Rose frowned. "Explain."
Lucas nodded. "A few days ago, Maxon sent two packages—one for you and one for someone else. Isabella wasn't feeling well and asked me to label the boxes while she handled the client queue. I... I accidentally put your name on the other girl's gift. That girl got the romantic card and teddy bear meant for you."
Rose's eyes narrowed. "And you're telling me this now?"
"It was an honest mistake," Isabella added. "We didn't know until Maxon stormed into the office."
Rose exhaled deeply. "Maxon, you need to leave. Now."
He hesitated.
"Leave, or I'll call security."
He scoffed, rolled his eyes, and stormed out.
"You both can continue," Rose said quietly, then walked away.
Later that evening
The sun had dipped low, casting a warm glow through the cream curtains. The once-bare space now sparkled with fresh decor—accent chairs in soft velvet, dried flowers in vases, and a statement painting Lucas picked out.
Isabella stood back, arms crossed, admiring their work.
Lucas grinned. "I must say, not bad for two underpaid decorators."
Isabella chuckled. "Underpaid, overworked, and now apparently relationship counselors too."
They both laughed.
Lucas glanced toward the hallway Maxon had stormed out of earlier. "Did you see his face when he saw you? Man looked like he saw a ghost. Or worse... an invoice."
"Right?" Isabella smirked. "He acted like I barged into his mansion uninvited. 'What are you doing here?'—like, sir, I have a job, thank you very much."
Lucas mimicked Maxon's scowl. "'You can't work here.' Yeah? Well, I can't deal with your tantrums, but here we are."
Isabella snorted. "Honestly, the guy needs to chill. We're not the reason his relationship is in shambles."
Lucas leaned on the ladder. "Still... you gotta admit, that drama? Top-tier entertainment."
"And free," Isabella added, tossing a throw pillow onto the couch. "We should charge Maxon rent for the emotional rollercoaster."
They burst into laughter again, both feeling lighter after the day's tension.
Lucas shook his head. "Alright, let's pack up. We'll come back tomorrow and add the curtains."
As they gathered their tools and stepped toward the door, Isabella was still giggling.
"Imagine if he's waiting outside, fuming," she joked.
Lucas laughed. "Nah, he wouldn't—"
They stepped out.
And froze.
Maxon stood by his car, arms folded, watching them like a hawk.
The laughter died in their throats.
Lucas whispered, "You jinxed it."
"What now?" Lucas mumbled.
Maxon stepped forward. "Why are you here?"
They spoke in unison. "We're working."
He sneered. "Working, huh? I'll file a complaint with your boss."
Isabella stiffened. "Why?"
"Because you ruined my relationship," Maxon said coldly. "And if I don't get Rose back, you two are losing your jobs."
"Sir, please don't," Lucas said. "What do you want us to do?"
Maxon shrugged. "Fix it. Make her forgive me."
"But how?" Isabella asked, her voice small.
"I don't care," Maxon snapped. "Figure it out. Or pack your bags."
He got into his car, rolled down the window, and gave one final warning.
"You've got seven days."
As the engine roared to life and he drove off, Isabella and Lucas stood frozen, staring at each other with wide, uncertain eyes.
Lucas said "Seven Days."