As Dianne sipped her Margarita, Gerlie's words kept replaying relentlessly in her mind. She had never anticipated DJ's girlfriend confronting her in such a bold, accusatory manner—claiming that Dianne was trying to steal her boyfriend. The sting of it cut far deeper than she expected. For the first time, another woman had scolded her, and the humiliation lingered, gnawing at her thoughts like an unyielding shadow. She didn't even notice that she had already taken more than a few sips of the drink until her friends exchanged concerned glances.
"Dianne, are you still okay?" Dansel's voice carried genuine worry, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.
"Don't worry, nothing will happen to her. Margarita is a light drink—it's basically lemon juice," Gerlie said with a nonchalant shrug, as if brushing off the seriousness of the situation. She had ordered the drink herself and seemed perfectly at ease, despite the tension radiating from the table.
"She's just not used to drinking," Dansel added, his voice laced with restrained irritation as he shot a glare at Gerlie.
"If she's not used to drinking, then why did she even come along?" Gerlie snapped, her words sharp and dripping with sarcasm.
Amy, who had been observing the exchange quietly, felt her own frustration simmering. She shot Gerlie a sharp look, silently warning her to stop, but managed to maintain her composure.
"Gerlie, that's enough…" Kier interjected calmly, his voice carrying authority. Gerlie finally fell silent, though the tension she had created still lingered in the air like an unshakable fog.
Dianne slowly began to feel the effects of the alcohol and the emotional strain. A wave of dizziness washed over her, her balance threatening to falter.
"I think… I should go home now," she murmured, her voice tinged with unease. She couldn't keep replaying Gerlie's cutting words over and over again. They dredged up old wounds, painful memories from her childhood—mocking laughter from her aunts, the cruel nicknames, and the humiliating situations she had endured. She clenched her fists discreetly, refusing to let herself break down, determined not to appear weak in front of anyone, not Gerlie, not DJ, not even her friends.
"What? You're going home already? You can't go alone, especially after drinking," Athena exclaimed, anxiety lacing her tone.
Dianne felt the dizziness intensify, but she forced herself to mask it. She didn't want to burden her friends further. As she tried to stand, her vision blurred suddenly, and before she could react, she collapsed. Her consciousness slipped away, leaving her in the helpless embrace of darkness. It was the second time something like this had happened after she drank too much; her friends suspected her body simply couldn't tolerate alcohol.
Panic erupted among the group, but DJ was quick to react. He caught her mid-fall, his arms steadying her before she could hit the floor.
"Got her," he muttered under his breath, relief evident in his eyes.
He carried her carefully to Amy's car. Since Dianne lived alone, it made sense to take her to Amy's home, which was closest to the bar anyway. The group moved quickly, concern etched on their faces as they made sure she was comfortable.
DJ's POV
Holding a glass of liquor, DJ stared blankly at the wall across from him, lost in thought. Amy's earlier words kept echoing in his mind—how Dianne had feelings for him. The admission, though indirect, stirred something within him he wasn't ready to confront yet.
Dianne was unlike any woman he had ever met. Fierce, outspoken, and unflinchingly brave. He remembered Dansel's description of her—the kind of friend you could rely on, someone loyal and protective. Even his own employees had spoken highly of her, praising her intelligence, her professionalism, and the way she handled herself under pressure. He recalled the time the Vice President had defended her for arriving late to work; even in a corporate environment filled with politics, she had earned respect.
Most women who liked a man made their feelings obvious in some way, but Dianne never showed anything. She was often cold, sometimes irritated, and remarkably unflappable, despite the teasing he often directed at her. He even remembered the sharp, sometimes rude remarks he had made when they first met.
It intrigued him. She wasn't like other women. She was… a challenge. And DJ had always been drawn to challenges.
Then his mind wandered to Gerlie, the agreement that if he succeeded with Dianne, Gerlie would finally accept his marriage proposal. The thought made him sigh deeply. He lifted his glass and took another sip, letting the cool liquid soothe the tension that had been building in his chest.
"Hi!" DJ greeted warmly that evening after work, his tone casual but genuine.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
"I'm okay," Dianne replied softly, rising from her seat in the lobby. She had been waiting for the rain to subside long enough to catch a taxi. Hours had passed, and her patience was beginning to wear thin.
"I'll take you home," DJ offered, his voice firm yet polite.
"Thanks, but I'll just wait for the rain to stop and grab a taxi," she said, maintaining her usual courtesy.
"The rain is really heavy. You won't be able to get a taxi anytime soon," he insisted. His persistence, though gentle, left her little choice but to accept. She had been waiting for nearly three hours, and it was clear that his concern was sincere.
Before heading home, DJ suggested they stop by a nearby restaurant. He admitted he hadn't eaten lunch and was starving, and Dianne, concerned for his well-being, agreed. She worried he might get dizzy while driving on an empty stomach.
"Sorry about everything earlier," he said once they were seated, the apology carrying a subtle undertone of guilt.
"It's okay. Forget it. And… thank you. Dansel told me you were the one who carried me when I fainted," she replied, her voice softening slightly.
"You're welcome. We were together at that moment—of course we help each other," he answered, a warm smile crossing his face.
As he smiled, Dianne noticed something she had never seen before—two small dimples appearing on either side of his lips when he grinned. She found herself staring at him subtly, captivated by the curve of his thick eyebrows, the depth of his expressive eyes, the sharp contour of his nose, and the well-shaped, alluring lips.
For a fleeting moment, she admitted to herself that DJ was even more handsome than Kier—the man she had once believed to be her destiny.
Clearing his throat, DJ brought her attention back to the present, and Dianne hastily sipped her soup, hoping he hadn't noticed her admiration.
"I know you've been annoyed with me because of my teasing," he said quietly, a faint vulnerability behind his confident demeanor.
Dianne remained silent, unsure how to respond.
"Dianne… the truth is… I like you," he confessed, his gaze locking onto hers.
Time seemed to stand still. Her heart pounded furiously, a rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. It felt reminiscent of the first time they had danced together—the world seemed to disappear around them, leaving only the sound of her own heart racing like a wild horse galloping without restraint.
In that instant, Dianne realized that the connection between them went beyond friendship or fleeting attraction. The truth of his words resonated deep within her, a feeling she had never anticipated but had always silently hoped for. And for the first time, she allowed herself to truly see DJ—not just as the teasing, arrogant man she knew, but as someone capable of understanding, protecting, and even loving her in ways she had never imagined.