Getting Them Back Together by Uloh Peace was submitted in May 2022 to Challenging The Writers Writing Contest #4 based on the writing prompt: Write a romantic story in which the main characters are enemies, but ultimately fall in love with each other.
“Coming!” A feminine voice said as the sound of approaching footsteps became more pronounced from behind the door.
It creaked open.
“We need t–”
Damien couldn’t finish speaking before the door was slammed in his face.
Glaring at the wooden barrier, with a scowl on his face, he started banging on the door.
“Open the door, Bethany. We need to talk.”
“Sorry, I don’t talk to the enemy.”
“What? Enemy?” He said, not following.
Is this woman delusional or something? He thought quietly in annoyance.
“I’m just here for a simple chat.”
“There’s nothing to listen to. Nothing the jerk friend of an idiot who thinks he can play with my sister’s emotions and then dump her like trash has the right to say.”
“Be real!” He snapped and resumed banging on the door.
“If you don’t come out here right now, Bethany, I swear I’ll—”
“Do your worst. I’m not afraid of you.”
“I will!” Damien stormed away, glaring past the neighbours watching the scene. He pulled out his phone and dialled his PA.
“Prepare everything I need to buy a building now.”
“Ugh,” Bethany groaned, and dropped the book on her face. “I was just getting to the good part.”
“I’m coming.” She said and peeled off her blanket cocoon to drag herself to the door. She peeked through the peek hole and rolled her eyes.
“I thought he left.” She mumbled.
“I know you can hear me. Open the door.”
“It’s been like an hour already, Damien. Go home.” Bethany yawned, padding towards her couch and flopping on the heap of blankets.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can either let me in like an adult or get ready to receive an eviction notice tomorrow morning.”
“Who are you? My landlord?” She snorted, grabbing her can of Pepsi. Her phone pinged, and she picked it up. She sipped her drink and clicked on the message.
“What the heck?” Bethany screeched, choking on her drink. Her eyes soaked in every word of the documents shown on her phone. “He bought the frickin’ house!”
“Yes. I just bought this entire building, so I’m your landlord.”
“W-What? How?” She sputtered.
“I’m going to count to three, and if this door isn’t open, you’d better start finding a new place to stay. One.”
He can’t be serious. She thought, chewing her lips.
“Fine.” Bethany grumbled, stomping her feet as she went to the door and swung it open.
“You’re an annoying man.” She glared at him.
“Good evening to you too.” He glared back and brushed past her into her home.
”What do you want, Mister Landlord?” Bethany said, not quite managing to bite back the venom dripping in her words.
“Aren’t you going to offer me something to drink?” He asked, taking a seat on the couch without the blankets.
“How do you like your toilet water? Cold or room temperature?” She said in a sugary voice.
“You’re a rude host.” Damien glowered at her.
“And you’re an unwelcome guest.” She scoffed and dropped onto her blankets. “Seriously, why are you here?”
“It’s about Tiffany and Mav—”
“If it’s about your good-for-nothing friend, save it.” Bethany crossed her arms over her chest.
“Just listen t—”
“I thought Tiffy had found a wonderful man who loved her, but I was wrong. He’s nothing but a two-timing playboy who—”
“Maven never wanted to break up. I planned it.” Damien’s flat words rang through the living room.
“What!” Her eyes widened at him.
“It was a set-up,” He said. His face was blank and stoic.
“B-but what about the other woman?”
“I got him drunk and paid a girl to pretend she slept with him that night, knowing Tiffany was going to visit him the next morning.”
“And the breakup message?”
“I hacked his phone, sent it and blocked every means of her contacting him.”
“Wow,” Bethany mumbled and closed her eyes.
“Why did you do… all that?” she breathed.
“Honestly, I don’t think Tiffany and Maven are a good match.”
“They’re from two very different social classes.”
“So because he’s rich and she’s poor.”
“I won’t exactly say poor…”
“Save your explanation, I get the gist.” Bethany opened her eyes and gave a tight smile. “So, why are you here?”
“To get them back together again.”
“You’re joking?” She snorted.
“I don’t joke around.” Damien frowned, tapping his finger on his knee. “I want to get them back together.”
“What happened to them being in different social classes?”
“That’s still there, but it seems I made an error in my judgement.”
“How much Maven loves Tiffany. I’ve never seen him this heartbroken. Even after three weeks, he’s still depressed and moody. It’s like a part of him died that day.” He stifled a groan. “It’s all my fault, and he now despises me.”
“Oh.” Bethany caught a quick glimpse of regret behind his cold exterior. It tugged on her heartstrings. Don’t feel sympathetic for him. He deserves what he’s getting.
“I’m here because I need your help to get them back together.”
“And why should I help you?” Her eyes narrowed at him. “It’s your problem after all.”
“Maven once told me Tiffany has a big heart. I assume she’d be as heartbroken as he is. Unless she doesn’t really love him?”
“She does. The breakup crushed her spirit.” Bethany said, Tiffany’s teary face popped up in her mind.
“Fine, I’ll help you.” she sighed. “Only because I want Tiffy to be happy. But I still see you as an arrogant overstepping and horrible friend.”
“And you forever remain a pesky drama queen.” Damien rose to his feet, and she stood up.
“I appreciate your assistance and I hope we can tolerate each other till we pull this off.” He stretched out his hand to her.
Bethany shook him and grinned. “I’m not the problem, you are.”
He’s quiet. Too quiet. Heck, is he even breathing? Bethany thought, peeking at Damien’s stoic figure from the corner of her eyes. Is he still angry about that day or flat-out ignoring me? I don’t get this man. I’m the one who’s supposed to be angry. He was rude to me. I don’t–
“Stop staring at me, it’s rude.” Damien’s voice broke her out of her thoughts.
“Sorry,” Bethany muttered and fixed her gaze on the road. The silence in the car and the cold of the AC irked her skin. She shuffled in her seat, squashing the urge to look at him again.
So he’s not ignoring me, but still, I can’t work with this tension between us. Should I just apologize? She thought.