We Met Again Because of Fate

It was my birthday today, and my mother invited all the wealthy families of Avalon Springs to attend my birthday banquet.

At the banquet, I unexpectedly ran into my ex-boyfriend, Vince Currey, who I thought should be working a blue-collar job.

Yet, the people around him were respectfully referring to him as "Mr. Currey."

My mother introduced him and me and told me that he was the second son of the Currey family and my arranged fiancé.

When our eyes met, we both saw the shock reflected in each other.

After all, I had told Vince that I was just a dishwasher, and he had told me that he was doing manual labor.

But we had already broken up.

I wanted to discuss canceling the engagement with my mother, but Vince cornered me against the wall when he found out my intention. His eyes reddened as he said, "I can pretend to be your fiancé so that your parents won't set you up with another guy."

1

It was my birthday today, and my mother invited all the wealthy families of Avalon Springs to attend my birthday banquet.

I was holding a wine glass, following my mother around as she greeted various family acquaintances when my best friend nudged me in the back and signaled with her eyes for me to turn around.

I turned and saw several middle-aged men surrounding a tall young man, calling him "Mr. Currey." Their words were full of praise.

The young man looked vaguely familiar. As I was trying to figure him out, he suddenly lifted his head, and I caught a clear view of his sharp jawline and handsome profile.

I turned back to exchange a glance with my best friend. He did look a lot like my ex-boyfriend from a year ago.

But wasn't he supposed to be doing manual labor? How could he be here? I must have been overthinking.

Just then, I heard my mother say beside me, "Amanda, this is Mrs. Paisley Currey."

Before the banquet, my mother had already told me that she wanted to arrange my arrangement. She had invited all the eligible young men from families that matched ours in status and mentioned that my grandfather had arranged an engagement for me with the second son of the Currey family when we were kids. She said it was a good opportunity for us to meet and that we could cancel the engagement if we had no feelings for each other.

"Hello, Mrs. Currey."

I politely greeted Paisley as I stood beside my mother.

"Amanda, hi. You've grown into such a beautiful young lady," Paisley said with a smile.

Then she turned and called out, waving to someone in the crowd, "Vince, come over here."

The name sounded familiar. When I looked up, I found myself locking eyes with a young man equally stunned.

"Amanda, do you two know each other? Why don't you go and have a chat alone? I haven't seen Paisley in ages, so we'll catch up." She gave me a knowing look secretly.

Feeling Vince's gaze on me, I stiffly turned and walked away.

Even when we reached a quieter spot, I still hadn't fully processed what was happening. Vince had told me back then that he was just doing manual labor.

"Has the Salazar family fallen so far that their daughter has to work as a dishwasher?" Vince sneered as his eyes were fixed on me.

"And hasn't the Currey family sent their son to do manual labor?" I shot back, refusing to back down.

"Vince, anyway, we've already broken up," I added, reminding him.

"I knew it. But your mother is pressuring you to get married, isn't she? She might force you to go on blind dates later." He leaned in closer and whispered, "We can help each other."

"Why should I help you? Go and find Harriet. You wouldn't even need to pretend. Just bring her home, and it'd be perfect," I said, taking a step back.

A flicker of emotion in his eyes that I couldn't quite understand, but he quickly suppressed it. "It's not like that, Amanda. Can you give me a chance to explain it to you?" he said.

After a year, he did seem more mature and composed. But I wasn't about to give him a second chance.

So I refused him. Even if he could explain everything, there was no way we could get back together.

But his idea of helping each other sounded great. I wasn't ready to go on blind dates.

And for some other reason, I agreed. "But we're just pretending and cooperating with each other. Once this matter is over, we go our separate ways," I said.

"Deal," he replied readily.

Then he glanced toward the dance floor, extended his hand, and said, "Miss Salazar, may I have the honor of a dance? I remembered your Zumba Gold was impressive before. I'm sure your waltz is just as good."

He looked at me with interest.

I was provoked and placed my hand in his.

2

Back when we were dating, I was a dishwasher, and he was a manual laborer. We had a post-dinner ritual: taking walks and dancing Zumba Gold.

He used to joke that we were preparing in advance to become the stars of the group dance scene in our retirement while also scouting out potential teams.

The scouting was because Vince had once told me about a feud in his grandmother's dance team. Two elderly men, Darell and Jerry, had gotten into a nasty fight over the lead dancer position. Darell, in an act of revenge, brought scissors and cut down all the flowers Jerry had painstakingly grown in his yard.

Jerry was so furious that he nearly had a heart attack and ended up in the hospital.

I had laughed at Vince back then and said, "Darell cut down so many flowers, but we'd only ever grow a few in a vase."

Since walking was free, we could date and exercise, so I happily agreed to join him.

After a year of Zumba Gold, my health condition and eyesight had both improved significantly. So as Vince and I danced the waltz, I kept my eyes on his feet, aimed, and stepped on them. Hmph, this liar deserved it.

I still remembered the first time I saw him. I was helping out at my family's restaurant chain, clearing tables, when he walked in. My first impression was that he looked dirty. His pants were splattered with mud, and his jacket was streaked with paint.

But when our eyes met, my second impression was that he was handsome. His face had sharp, chiseled features. He was like a movie star.

He held a hard hat in his right hand and steadied the door with his left.

Behind him, the noonday sun streamed in, making him and the light equally dazzling. But after I stared at him for too long, my eyes hurt.

"Ow-Amanda, go easy on my feet!" he hissed. He had clearly improved his ability to control his expressions after a year. If it weren't for the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, I might have thought he didn't feel pain as I stepped on his feet.

"Sorry, Mr. Currey..." But before I could finish speaking, a mocking voice interrupted. "Mr. Currey, you probably don't know that Miss Salazar dated a poor manual laborer before and spent a whole year Zumba Gold with him. I doubt she even remembers how to waltz."

I laughed at the remark and turned to see the woman who was speaking.

She hadn't noticed Vince's face darkening as she continued, "Mr. Currey, I've been practicing dance since I was a little girl and even won national awards. Would you... be my dance partner this evening?" She cast Vince a shy glance before lowering her head.

I was amused and glanced at Vince. I intended to step aside and watch Vince for fun.

But to my surprise, he tightened his grip on my hand and looked at me with eyes so expressive that they could charm anyone. "Even when I was a poor manual laborer, Amanda cared for me. Now, how can she not?" he said.

I turned my head slightly. Vince had just declared to help me and was already stepping into the role. I had to admit that his performance was quite convincing.

Seeing the smug expression on his face, I thought he was as childish as ever.

That woman across from us was momentarily stunned. Her face flushed with embarrassment and then paled with anger as she realized something.

But she was bold enough to mock me in my place. I shot a glance at one of the servants standing nearby. Before that woman could say anything more, two or three security guards firmly but with a veneer of politeness escorted her out.

Vince looked at me and seemed to want to say something. But I cut him off before he could speak. I extended my hand and said, "Pleasure working with you."

His expression twisted into a complicated mix of emotions before he reluctantly shook my hand and muttered, "Pleasure working with you." Then he took out his phone and added, "Take my number off your blocked list."

3

After the banquet, my mother looked at me in a teasing way. I knew that I couldn't explain things at that moment, so I simply told her not to cancel the engagement. Then I avoided her altogether, fearing she might team up with my father to ask me questions.

If my father got upset, he might arrange for me to wash dishes in one of the stores of our family, even though I was now the general manager. He and my mother might still conspire with the excuse of letting me "field training". I had experienced a similar incident two years ago.

Later that night, as I was getting ready for bed, my phone buzzed with a message.

It was from Vince. "What are you up to, Miss Salazar?" I stared at the way he addressed me.

Back when we were dating, he used to call me "Miss Salazar" all the time. At first, I thought he'd figured out my family background. I asked him why he called me that. He said, "You're my treasure, the one I want to protect forever. So I decided to call you Miss Salazar."

But now... After a moment of silence, I suppressed the strange emotions stirring within me and replied, "I am sleeping."

I noticed the "typing..." indicator on his side of the chat lingered for a while.

Setting my phone aside, I got up to remove my face mask. When I returned, his reply was waiting for me.

Vince said, "Good night."

I pretended not to see it.

After that, he started sending me "good morning" and "good night" messages every day, just like when we were dating. But aside from work-related matters, I never replied.

He even delivered lunch to my office every day. They were always dishes I liked. Each time, I told him to stop doing unnecessary things and that there was no chance for us to reconcile. He just smiled and said, "I know. But I can't let my partner go hungry."

Eventually, I stopped saying anything. I figured he would get tired of it and give up.

A month later, I received a message from Vince asking me to play the role of his girlfriend again. He asked me to attend a family dinner at his house this time and make it look like we were dating.

I thought about it. Apparently, being a "partner" now included meeting the family. So, I agreed.

After asking about his family's preferences, I bought a bunch of gifts. Then we headed to his family's old mansion together.

The Currey family had made their fortune in the construction field, and their mansion was a manor perched halfway up a scenic hill.

I was worried about traffic, so I got up early to get ready. Vince's car was already waiting downstairs when I finished.

In the past, whenever I had to wake up early for something, I'd always be in such a foul mood.

I would drag him out of bed to keep me company, and he never complained. In fact, he would even prepare breakfast for me while I did my makeup, so I always left the place with a warm meal in hand.

Thanks to his care, my chronic stomach issues had improved significantly. At least, I no longer suffered from frequent stomach cramps.

When I got downstairs, he opened the car door for me and handed me a familiar paper bag.

Sitting in the passenger seat, I opened it to find my favorite breakfast. It was still warm, just as I remembered.

My heart softened a little, but I didn't say anything. I finished breakfast quietly and leaned against the car window to catch up on sleep.

Two hours later, I woke up. Vince handed me an orange. I took it and peeled it as I glanced at the navigation app.

"We will arrive in half an hour," he said, reading my mind.

I nodded groggily and was still half-asleep. Without thinking, I leaned slightly toward him and instinctively put the peeled half of the orange into his mouth. The action was so natural, just like a few years ago. He ate it without hesitation.

The moment passed before I realized what I'd done. Both of us froze, and the atmosphere in the car grew awkwardly quiet.

I shifted closer to the window, feeling my face heat up.

I lowered my head and silently ate the other half of the orange while berating myself for my impulsiveness. I also complained about Vince secretly. Why did he have to give me an orange? And why did the orange so naturally come in halves?

"Amanda..."

"Don't talk. Just drive," I interrupted hastily, cutting him off decisively to end the conversation.

When we finally arrived at the Currey mansion, I quickly got out of the car. I was eager to escape the awkwardness.

Vince followed closely behind. He grabbed my hand and whispered, "You are pretending to be my girlfriend now. Act exactly like that." He gestured toward the butler waiting ahead.

He instructed the butler to bring the gifts inside and then held my hand as we walked through the front door. "Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Dad. I've brought Amanda home!" Vince announced.

What happened yesterday evening and what he said in the car a moment ago had made me pretend to be his girlfriend, so I wasn't nervous at first.

But as the reality of meeting his family sank in, I couldn't help but feel anxious.

After changing into indoor slippers, we turned into the living room, where I immediately spotted a familiar figure on the sofa. My temple throbbed, and a surge of irritation flared within me.

Using Vince's body as cover, I pinched him sharply in the side.

Leaning closer, I hissed, "You already brought Harriet here. Why did you drag me into this as your girlfriend?"

"Ow- it's hurts! You've got it all wrong. She's my aunt," he whispered back, wincing as he led me toward the sofa.

What? I loosened my grip, still processing his words, as he began introducing me to everyone on the sofa. "Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Dad, Aunt Harriet, this is my girlfriend, Amanda. She even picked out gifts for you. I'm sure you'll love them."

I was still dazed and had to follow his lead to greet everyone politely.

His family was incredibly warm and welcoming, showering me with compliments I didn't even know I deserved.

Before I knew it, I was holding a bank card from his grandparents, a gift symbolizing good fortune and blessings from his father, Warren Currey, a jade bracelet from Paisley, and an entire set of gold jewelry from Aunt Harriet.

Then, the five of them surrounded us, bombarding us with questions about when we planned to get married, where we'd hold the wedding, and what ceremony style we preferred. Paisley even suggested video-calling my mother to finalize the wedding details on the spot.

I shot Vince a pleading look. He understood me and quickly made an excuse, saying he wanted to show me his room. Holding my hand, he pulled me upstairs.