A week ago, I would not have imagined missing trips and losing money as I did last night. Yes, money must be made, but the atmosphere and fun from last night can not be quantified—especially with her eyes still dancing in my mind and that smile that should be illegal.
Like a child looking forward to holidays, I almost couldn't wait for the day to break so I could prepare for the cinema outing this evening. Not that I'm counting the hours or anything... okay, maybe I am.
Come to think of it, the movie had been scheduled for tonight, but I've been anticipating since I woke up. This is not about the movie—it's about her. My Cam. The one who knows exactly how to tilt her head so I can't think straight.
I don't care how tonight would go; I've decided to give it my all. If she's showing up, I'm showing out.
Just at the thought of this, a notification came in indicating I have a client who needs my service. Well, it won't be a bad idea to have some cash at hand while tonight's outing keeps playing in my head on a loop. Camila really has a thing on me—tell me why I haven't taken breakfast at this time, 10 a.m., because I'm full on thoughts of her. This can't be the regular Harry... but then again, around her, nothing feels regular.
I replied on the Uber service app with a confident "Pick up in 30 minutes." That was my cue. I slipped into something decent, grabbed my keys, and—because why not—paused in front of the mirror. For a moment, it felt less like I was going to work and more like I was heading out on a date. I smirked, gave myself a slow nod of approval, and whispered in my head, "Looking good, Harry... but let's pretend it's for Camila."
As I rolled past the traffic light, I caught myself grinning like a teenager who just got their crush's number. Is this what it feels like to have a lover? Oh, Harry. I was practically high on joy—like finding a forgotten candy in a bag you thought was empty, only this one melts in your mouth and rewrites your whole mood.
Five minutes to the pickup, and something tugged at the back of my mind—the number attached to this booking looked strangely familiar. I told myself not to be ridiculous, but my brain was already flipping through memories. I've got this habit of remembering my regulars' contacts, but this trip was different. No past rides, no familiar record. Still, there was something... recognizable.
Please, I begged silently, don't let this be the kind of surprise that ruins my day.
Right there at the parking spot, I can already feel the day swerving toward disaster
I knew it!!! Of all days—today? Why, why, why? And no, this isn't one of those dramatic rhetorical questions—I need real answers before I collapse from the shock.
I let my head fall against the wheel, as if the leather could whisper the explanation I was desperate for. And maybe it did—because when I looked up, there it was.
Right in front of me.
What in the world is this—the past barging through the front door of my present without knocking?
Lillian! Not again. I knew the number ringing my app looked familiar, but never in a thousand rides would I have guessed my ex was the one summoning me. Did she book me on purpose? What game is she playing? My name's right there on the driver profile—there's no way she didn't know.
Oh my God...
She's getting closer now. I have to wear the mask—pretend she's just another passenger. No history. No baggage. Just a customer. My job is to be professional, to smile through clenched teeth, to make sure she leaves me a decent rating instead of a poisoned review. She could sink my rep with a few taps if she wanted to.
She wasn't like this when we dated, but who knows what's changed. I'm not risking my livelihood over some leftover drama from a past relationship. That's who she is now—just another fare in the backseat.
No, I am not attempting to paint her black because I know who she was. Back then, she wasn't like what my thought is saying right now. But time changes people—and I'm not here to find out how.
........
I flicked my headlights to full beam—my little way of saying yes, it's me.
Different car now. Six months since she left, and I've made sure nothing about me screams same old Harry. She needs to know she wasn't the end of the road. Petty? Absolutely. I'm practically auditioning for "Best Actor in a Silent Revenge Role" before she can find a way to crawl back.
The tint worked its magic like always—keeping my world hidden while giving me the upper hand. From inside, I could see every detail outside: the way she stood, the tilt of her head, even the nervous little shuffle of her feet.
She, on the other hand, couldn't see me. To her, the glass was just a dark mirror reflecting her own face back at her.
It felt almost unfair, this secret advantage. I could study her without giving myself away—like the past had been gift-wrapped and left on my windshield, waiting for me to unwrap it.
She's walking toward me. Slow. Intentional.
I already have Camila now—Doesn't matter that we've only known each other a handful of hours—what matters is Lilian can't find her way back in. One conversation, and she'd start spinning her little reasons to return.
And maybe, just maybe, there's a spark I haven't noticed yet. I'm not about to find out.
Hello Harry, her voice subtle as she enters the car. She sounded so much like she was ready for a conversation of which I'm not.
My stomach tightens. That tone? She booked me on purpose. Plate number's changed, but my name hasn't.
Hi Lilian, hope you're good. Been a while. Make yourself comfortable—it's just a thirty-minute drive.
No pause. No room for her to wedge in nostalgia.
I start the engine.
Seatbelt please. We roll out, me hyper-aware of the ghost of my past sitting in my backseat.
I became so uncomfortable when she began "I know you would be surprised to see me. You know what they say about true love never dying..."
I hear every word, but the ear-pods go in—silent, no music- just free shields against Lilian. Petty? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely. My heart's on lockdown for Camila, even if I'm not sure where that's going yet.
"Harry, can you hear me?" she said tapping me.
Oh, were you saying something? I have my ear-pods on, I say. Feigning distraction.
Before she can answer, I slip into character. Drama mode: on. Time to deploy my ultimate deterrent.
1 2 3... action!!!
Hey darling, I began. "Yes, babe, I'm at work right now—duty calls."(A quick chuckle, just loud enough for my audience in the back to hear.)
"Awwn, that's so sweet of you... thank you for being so understanding."(Pause. Smile into the imaginary phone.)
"Yes, the cinema date is still on—why not? Anything for my darling."(I throw in another laugh, the kind that says I'm hopelessly in love and definitely unavailable.) "No, I haven't had breakfast yet, but I will after this trip... and make sure you look gorgeous for daddy."
I'm not delusional—this is pure theater. And honestly? I'm having the time of my life.
"Oh, come on, munchkin, don't say that. I know there's a way to make it work." (I lowered my tone, like we're sharing secrets through the phone.)
"Our determination is the key. We've got each other, right? And trust me... this project will be a success."
"That's my girl... I can't wait to see you either. I love you right back—only a whole lot more, my darling. Yes, bye for now."
I throw in a loud, lingering kiss to seal the deal.
By now, I'm certain Lilian's squirming in her seat—tell me why she's wiping her face in an air-conditioned car.
Hol'up. She probably thinks this is a sweet little mother-and-child story—the kind where Mama's arms are always wide open whenever Junior realizes he messed up. Cute idea, but not my script.
Well, not this time. I gave my best—for us. Sure, I had flaws, but never at the cost of what we had. And now she wants to stand here like nothing happened? No.
And yet, here I am, pulling off some fake conversation just to dodge a real one. A piece of me feels guilty for the stunt, but the bigger part? The bigger part is relieved. Relieved that I don't have to split my heart in two anymore. Camila has all of me now—and I wouldn't have it any other way. End of story
I could feel Lilian shrinking, defeated, though not fully beaten. Like a candle burning its last flicker, desperate to stay alive.
"We're at the destination," I announced quickly, before she could dig up another line of attack. I know her—if not today, she'll find another door to knock on. But I'm ready. Even if Camila never becomes mine, one thing is certain: I am never going back to Lilian.
I won't let my weekend get ruined.
"So," I tilted my head with a half-smile, "cash or app? 'Cause Santa retired a long time ago." After all, she left claiming I was "always chasing trips." Maybe I am—but at least now, I'm chasing something worth the run.
"Your payment has reflected," I said two minutes later, all smooth professionalism, as if the last few minutes hadn't been chaos in disguise.
"Thanks for booking my ride. Hope you enjoyed the trip," I added, unlocking the door with the kind of fake cheer only Oscar-worthy drivers can pull off.
And, as expected—silence. Of course she didn't answer. Because... MISSION FAILED!!!
exhaled, long and heavy, as she stepped out. Oh, she'll replay my little act over and over, no doubt. My pettiness will haunt her like background music she can't turn off—I'm certain of it.
Well, Harry, call it what it is: a strategy. Sometimes the best way to avoid the devil is to out-petty the devil.
Now... enough drama. Time for breakfast. You've earned it, Dear Harry.