Love at Hopeless Encounter

The morning started with coffee—or at least, it was supposed to. Instead, what Jade got in her most awaited weekend was an empty mug, a broken coffee machine, and a counter full of water that she didn’t notice until she leaned into it.

“Brilliant. Just brilliant,” she muttered, grabbing a dishtowel to mop up the mess. Her phone buzzed from across the room, and in her haste to grab it, her socked foot found the puddle.

She skidded. Arms flailing, mug flying. Somehow—miraculously—she caught herself on the edge of the counter, heart pounding as the mug clattered to the floor.

“One of these days,” she huffed, grabbing her phone, “gravity’s going to win.”

The text was from her high school friend Amy:

You need a break. I’m sending you something. Don’t argue.

Before Jade could respond, a link popped up—a flyer advertising an island group trip, complete with pictures of turquoise waters, white sandy beaches, and people lounging in hammocks looking way too happy.

She snorted. Hammocks. Right. She could already picture herself flipping out of one, face-first into the sand. But as she stared at the flyer, her kitchen mess seemed a little messier, her apartment a little smaller, and the thought of “escape” a little more tempting.

Jade’s life had been an uphill battle since she was 12. Her father, the family’s sole breadwinner, died in a factory accident, leaving her and her mother reeling. The compensation from the company had barely covered the debts he left behind, leaving them with nothing to start over.

Forced to grow up too soon, Jade had to drop out of school to help her mother sell vegetables at the market. Her aunt eventually stepped in, pulling strings to get Jade into a scholarship program. Academics weren’t her strong suit, but she scraped by thanks to her ability to sing and dance at school events—anything to keep her place in the program.

Life, however, seemed determined to keep her down. Misfortunes followed her like a shadow, right into adulthood. Now, as an office worker, she found herself trapped under the thumb of a boss whose only joy seemed to come from finding new ways to belittle her.

And then, just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, her mother’s market stall—their last semblance of stability—was shut down. The government had decided to clear the area to build a new structure, a flashy move meant to curry favor before the upcoming elections.

Jade felt like she was running on empty, her resilience stretched thin. It wasn’t just stress anymore; it was suffocating. So, when her best friend sent her that flyer for the island trip, something in her snapped. It wasn’t a rational decision—she didn’t weigh the pros and cons, didn’t calculate the cost—but for once, she let herself dream of escape.

Signing up for the trip wasn’t just impulsive; it was desperate. She needed to breathe.

Fifteen minutes later, her credit card was in her hand.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” she said, hitting Confirm.

After hitting that button, Jade stared at the blank wall of her room, her brain firing off panicked mental math. “Okay, so… that’s just a month’s rent. And… three days of work allowance. No, wait—five.” She started counting on her fingers, her left hand scratching her head as if she could dig up a solution.

Her brows knitted together. “I should’ve thought this through—like, ninety-nine times—before I hit Confirm.” She groaned, pacing in a small circle before collapsing onto her bed, palms on her forehead.

“What’s on your mind, Jade Kirstenson?” she asked herself loudly, voice dripping with sarcasm, as if the universe might chime in with an answer.

Silence.

“Great. Thanks for nothing.”

She sat up and threw her arms into the air, a dramatic proclamation of defeat. “Alright, fine. The damage is done. I’m already drowning in debt anyway—what’s one more stupid decision?”

Her forced laugh echoed through the room, borderline maniacal. “Might as well enjoy this trip and figure out the financial apocalypse later. Hahaha!”

She stood, arms still stretched upward like she was summoning divine intervention. “Spirits of good fortune, feel free to help a girl out anytime now!”

And then, as if on cue, the corner of her suitcase tipped over, spilling its contents onto the floor. Jade groaned. It was shaping up to be a very expensive disaster.

Two weeks later, Jade stood at the dock, clutching her overstuffed suitcase like it was a life raft.

The brochure hadn’t mentioned the heat—or how her hair would revolt into a frizz tornado. She fanned herself with her boarding pass, squinting at the sleek boat bobbing in the water. Around her, the other joiners looked like they’d stepped out of a travel magazine.

And then there was her.

At 29, Jade Kirstenson was a five-foot-four woman perpetually sporting three layers of eye bags and arms with uneven tan lines thanks to her year-round T-shirt habit. Today, she’d ventured into uncharted territory with her first-ever sundress—one she forgot to iron, so the wrinkles shimmered under the merciless sun. Her crocs squeaked with every step, and her tote bag had given up on life, hanging by a single strap. A beacon of elegance, as always.

Objectively, Jade was a pretty woman, though she’d never realized it herself. Compliments had a way of tangling with her clumsiness until they disappeared into thin air. Her long, mid-back black hair framed her fair complexion, and her hooded brown eyes—accented with long lashes—lent her a soft, almost dreamy quality. She could’ve been mistaken for a lead in a South Korean drama, if only her sundress didn’t look like it had been wadded into a ball minutes earlier.

She was mid-squeak when a polite throat-clear behind her sent a chill up her spine.

“Excuse me.”

Jade turned—and immediately regretted it. Standing behind her was a man who looked like he’d just strolled out of a luxury travel ad.

He was tall, six feet at least, with skin kissed by light brown freckles and a rosy-white complexion. His blue-gray eyes, like rain clouds about to break, seemed to study her with detached amusement. He wore a crisp white camiso, so pristine it looked like even ants would hesitate to tread on it, and his tailored board shorts bore the quiet confidence of a luxury brand. She didn’t even need to see under the shirt to know he was packing toned arms and sculpted abs. The kind of abs you’d find on a billboard.

His entire aura screamed effortless confidence. Jade’s screamed, “Hi, I just rolled out of bed.”

Her face heated as her mind betrayed her with an image—her, wrapped in his perfectly toned arms. She gave her cheek a quick slap, muttering under her breath, “Stop it, Jade! You wouldn’t even pass as this guy’s… booger.”

Unfortunately, her self-directed scolding was louder than intended.

The man’s eyebrow quirked slightly, and his lips twitched in what might have been a smirk.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, his tone cool but polite.

Jade’s mortification soared to new heights. “Oh! Uh, no. Sorry!” she stammered, yanking her suitcase to the side. Naturally, it tipped over, spilling a pink flamingo swimsuit onto the dock.

He glanced at her suitcase—its zipper barely containing her over-packing—and raised a brow.

“You’re blocking the line,” he said. Not rude, exactly, but not friendly either.

“Oh. Right. Sorry!” She yanked her suitcase to the side. It tipped over dramatically, spilling a bright pink flamingo swimsuit onto the dock.

He stared at the swimsuit for a beat too long, his lips twitching before he looked back at her. “Interesting choice.”

Her face burned. “It’s for… poolside fun?” she said, as if that explained anything.

He didn’t reply, just stepped around her, carrying a sleek, minimalist duffel bag that made her suitcase look even more ridiculous.

As he boarded the boat, she muttered, “Well, that’s one way to make a first impression.”

Scooping up the flamingo swimsuit, she shoved it back into her suitcase and dragged it onto the boat. Her tropical escape was officially underway, and she had a sinking feeling that Mr. Duffel Bag wasn’t going to stay in the background.

The boat was sleek and modern, but navigating it with her suitcase felt like an obstacle course. By the time she wedged it into a corner, her hair was stuck to her forehead, and her tote bag had lost its second strap.

“Room for one more?” she joked, plopping into an empty seat at the back. No one laughed.

As she fanned herself with the itinerary, the shadow of her earlier nemesis loomed over her. She looked up to find him standing there, sunglasses in hand, as composed as ever.

“This seat taken?” he asked.

She tried for witty. “Uh… no.”

He sat down, every movement smooth and effortless, while she managed to elbow the armrest and drop her itinerary. They both reached for it at the same time, their heads nearly colliding.

Their faces were just inches apart, and Jade caught a whiff of his cologne—clean, fresh, and ridiculously expensive. He smelled like he’d just stepped out of a luxury spa, all effortless sophistication.

Meanwhile, her own self-awareness shot through the roof. She subtly sniffed her right armpit, praying she didn’t smell like the stress of dragging her oversized suitcase across the dock.

“So that’s how wealthy people smell,” she murmured under her breath, her gaze darting anywhere but his face. “Do they even sweat?”

“Careful,” he said, pulling back quickly.

“Thanks,” she said, clutching the paper like a lifeline. “Wouldn’t want to knock myself out before the trip even starts.”

His lips twitched again, and she filed it under “almost-smiles to investigate later.”

“So,” she said, desperate to fill the silence, “what made you sign up for this trip? Looking for some ‘unforgettable memories,’ too?”

“Something like that,” he replied, pushing his sunglasses onto his face.

“Wow, not cryptic at all,” she quipped.

“What about you?” he countered.

She hesitated. “I needed a break. From… everything.”

He studied her for a moment, then leaned back. “Good reason.”

Before she could decide if that was a compliment, the boat’s engine roared to life, and the guide’s voice crackled over the speakers.

“Welcome to your island adventure!”

The boat lurched forward. Jade grabbed her seat for balance, but her tote bag wasn’t so lucky. Its contents spilled onto the floor—snacks, sunscreen, and a neon yellow sun hat.

Charles picked up the hat and handed it to her.

“Nice hat,” he said, straight-faced.

She took it, mortified. “It’s for sun safety.”

“Of course.” He settled back as the boat sped toward the island.

Jade groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long trip.