"Hit him—hit the man on the moped."
...
For Gwendolyn Morris, the whole situation felt like a disaster. She had been resting her cheek against Joey Davis's back, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, when out of the blue, a car sped toward them.
They both went tumbling to the ground; Joey bore the brunt of the fall. The weight of the moped pinned him down, his face twisted in pain. Thankfully, their helmets minimized the risk of a head injury.
Gwendolyn scrambled to her feet, limping slightly as she attempted to lift the moped. Two individuals stepped out of the car that had hit them. One of them reached out a hand to help her, a firm and capable gesture. Above her, a gentle, familiar voice spoke.
"I'm really sorry, it's entirely our fault. Are you okay?"
Startled, Gwendolyn looked up to see Marco Griffin, his eyes filled with concern. His expression turned to surprise when he recognized her. "Miss Morris, is that you?"
Gwendolyn hadn’t expected Marco to be involved in the accident. Her rising anger had to be tamped down.
The driver helped Joey to his feet and bowed slightly in apology. "I'm truly sorry. I got distracted. This is all my fault."
Concerned and sincere, Marco instructed the driver, "Uncle Jake, Mr. Davis looks hurt. Take him to the hospital right away." Then, turning back to Gwendolyn with deeper remorse, he said, "Miss Morris, I noticed your ankle seems injured too. Why don’t you come to the hospital with us to get it checked out?"
Joey clutched his side, his eyes full of worry for Gwendolyn. "Gwen, let's go to the hospital."
Gwendolyn glanced at the moped parked awkwardly by the roadside. They had just bought it, and she was reluctant to leave it unattended, especially since it was in a no-parking zone.
Sensing her hesitation, Marco offered a solution. "How about this: Uncle Jake can take Mr. Davis to the hospital immediately since his injury seems worse. I can help you find a safe place to park the moped, and then we can head to the hospital together. Does that sound okay?"
She nodded, concern for Joey evident as she turned to him, gently squeezing his hand. "Go have them check your side. I'm fine—I dressed warmly."
Still worried, Joey said, "But your ankle..."
Indeed, her ankle was twisted, but it wasn’t serious. Gwendolyn smiled, shaking her head. "It’s nothing major. Go on. I’ll meet you after we park the moped."
In significant pain, Joey didn’t argue further. He allowed Uncle Jake to help him into the car.
As the sleek black vehicle merged into the nighttime traffic, Marco turned to the moped with an apologetic look. "I'm not sure if it's still rideable. Should I call for a tow?"
"No need for a tow," Gwendolyn replied, stepping forward to test if the moped could still start. Her twisted ankle, however, made her wince, and she stumbled.
Marco quickly reached out to steady her with his firm arm. Gwendolyn flinched back as if startled, pulling her arm away.
Feeling a bit awkward, Gwendolyn wasn’t sure how to explain her reaction.
Marco withdrew his hand, offering a warm smile. "I hope I didn’t scare you, Miss Morris. I just acted on instinct when I saw you stumble. I hope that's okay."
Gwendolyn replied, "It’s fine. You don't need to apologize."
They had only met three times, but from their first meeting, Marco felt there was something Gwendolyn was keeping to herself. He was determined to get to know her better.
However, Gwendolyn’s reaction seemed involuntary, possibly due to past trauma. Marco’s curiosity flickered briefly before he dismissed it, as Gwendolyn was already straddling the moped, ready to leave. She looked back at Marco and said, "I’ll park the moped myself and head to the hospital, so there's no need to trouble you, Mr. Griffin."
She was not used to sharing the tight space of a moped with someone she barely knew. It made her uneasy, especially since Marco, living his busy, privileged life, surely didn’t need to bother with such a minor accident. Surely, leaving it to the driver would suffice.
"Hold on." With a quick step, Marco easily positioned himself in front of her, gripping the handlebars firmly. His expression was both sincere and determined. "You're hurt, and it's my responsibility. I can't let you head to the hospital alone. I'll ride the moped, and you can sit behind me to guide the way."
Gwendolyn had worked in a large pharmacy for over two years, encountering all sorts of people, but someone like Marco—friendly, approachable, and so conscientious—was a first.
Maybe, as they say, those brought up in loving environments naturally spread kindness.
In that moment, Gwendolyn found herself nodding, stepping off the moped and smiling at him. "Can you ride it?"
Marco swung onto the moped. "I tried it once for fun as a kid. Haven’t forgotten how." He glanced back at Gwendolyn. “Hop on.”
Gwendolyn handed him her helmet, put on her own, and took the seat behind him.
Marco twisted the throttle, and the small moped carried them slowly into the night.
Chandler Hunter and Boone Williams stood on the sidewalk, watching the moped fade into the distance. Chandler rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Wow, your boss knows how to charm, doesn't he?"
Whether it was the streetlights or something else, Boone, normally stoic, showed an unusual warmth as he watched his boss leave, speaking earnestly, "You're wrong. Miss Morris is a good person. She deserves the best."
Chandler sighed, "Well, that just makes things more complicated."
He pulled out his phone, typing a cryptic message to their group chat.
"Guys, someone’s got a challenge ahead."
After a moment, Chandler added, "A big challenge."
