Illusion of True Love

From a young age, my mother's way of educating was different from other parents.

Other mothers would say, "You need to attach importance to study and aim for first place."

My mom would say, "Clare, don't stress yourself out. Second place is just fine."

This wasn't just how she raised me; it was her life philosophy as well. She never aimed for first. Second would be an acceptable option.

As a child, I didn't understand her, but as I grew up, I finally broke away from the pattern of aiming for second. The love story between my husband, Jarrod Anderson and me was the first time in my over twenty years of life that I spared no effort.

Back then, I was a newcomer in the workplace, and he was a senior executive.

I was a young woman wandering alone in a foreign land, while he was a mature man who had already carved out a place for himself there. We were so mismatched, yet his maturity, wisdom, gentleness, patience, and even the scent of tobacco on his suit were as addictive as poppies, luring me to dive headfirst into the flames.

I was lost in the bubble he created, forgetting everything else.

Until I saw...

The bubble burst, and I woke up.

I cried, realizing my mother was right, but it was too late-I had already been broken.

Meeting Jarrod was an inevitable coincidence, as I joined his company after graduating with my master's degree.

I wasn't initially under his supervision, but my then-boss, a relentless workaholic, thought I lacked practical experience and was a burden, hindering her promotion and salary increase. She scolded me and urged me to leave.

Experiencing the harshness of the workplace for the first time, I hid on the rooftop to cry.

That was when I met him. He told me, "Save your tears for those who truly care about you. The rest of the world won't be kinder just because you cried."

I sobbed and told Jarrod, "But I've really been trying hard. I'm always the first to arrive and the last to leave in my team."

"So what?" Jarrod was probably amused by my naivety. He chuckled and then said, "Hard work without results is a waste of effort"

Watching him walk away, I felt utterly exhausted, dragging my weary body back to my rented room to sleep.

As the saying went, every cloud had a silver lining. A good night's sleep brought a new day.

But when I woke up, my mood hadn't improved despite the bright sunshine. Looking at myself in the mirror, I pursed my lips, thinking today might be my last day at my first job, and my spirits sank even further.

"Ms. Brown, here are the documents I've organized." I timidly handed the folder to the relentless workaholic. She flipped through it and gave me a blunt comment, "Don't assume that a high academic degree equals excellence. In society, it's all about practical experience. I don't have time to train you from scratch."

"I will work hard to catch up with others." Holding back tears, I pleaded with her, "Ms. Brown, could you give me another chance? Please don't fire me."

"If I've kept focusing only on work, who would take care of my job?" She raised an eyebrow, "Come with me."

She brought me to Jarrod who was her rival, and said, "Mr. Anderson, do you want this newbie? If not, I'll fire her."

I took a deep breath with my eyes closed, and waited for fate's verdict.

He calmly said, "I'll take her."

With those simple words, Jarrod melted the ice in my world.

"Be my guest," the workaholic scoffed, clicking away in her high heels.

"Thank you." I looked at Jarrod, deeply grateful.

He smiled and patted my shoulder, saying, "Keep it up, rookie."

"I will keep it up!" I sniffled, feeling a sudden urge to cry.

I watched him leave, mesmerized by the golden aura that seemed to surround him, making him seem larger than life.

"Mr. Anderson, how do you think I handled this part?" I presented my carefully crafted PowerPoint to Jarrod for review.

Compared to the relentless workaholic, Jarrod was incredibly kind, always patient and amiable, "Clare, check here. Your description is too verbose, making it hard for our clients to grasp the key points. You could try to simplify it and highlight the key information. Also, these two promotional plans lack contrast. If I were a customer, they wouldn't entice me to spend on our main product package. Maybe you can make one more appealing and the other more practical to create a stronger contrast."

"Understood." I nodded earnestly, valuing his suggestions because I felt I couldn't let down his kindness in allowing me to stay at the company.

With Jarrod's guidance, I gradually matured from a workplace novice. One day, as usual, I submitted my proposal to him, "Mr. Anderson, how is it this time?"

He beamed at me, "Clare, you've improved. You're getting much better."

I was overjoyed by his praise, "The credit is yours, Mr. Anderson."

"Fine, I'll accept it" Jarrod laughed, and as he turned the pages, he accidentally brushed against my hand.

In that moment, I froze, unable to describe my feelings-perhaps like a fuse in an electric kettle suddenly jolted.

I suppressed my racing heart, quietly withdrawing my hand, sensing the unusual tension beneath Jarrod's calm exterior.

He reviewed the document from start to finish, then pointed out a few details, "Go back and revise these sections, then bring it to me again."

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze due to the unspoken tension, "Okay, Mr. Anderson."

"Wait." Jarrod called out from behind me, "Clare, when no one else is around, don't call me Mr. Anderson. Just call me Jarrod."

I nodded, but the words "Jarrod" still wouldn't come out.

Back at my desk, my mind was in turmoil, replaying that fleeting touch with Jarrod. I couldn't explain why such a brief contact left such a deep impression on my heart.