CHAPTER 11

As Max woke up, he stretched with a grin, feeling lighter than he had in years. 

“No budgeting, no calculating shifts…” he murmured, staring at the ceiling. “So this is what freedom feels like.”

He sat up, glancing at his worn-out sneakers by the door and laughing. 

“Well, guess it’s time to treat myself. No cafeteria lines today—let’s go somewhere extravagant. Somewhere… off-limits,” he whispered with a smirk.

As he dressed, a thought crept in. 

“Any restaurant, any meal, no more checking prices.” He shook his head, still marveling. 

He decided against the cafeteria and dressed up, calling for a taxi to take him somewhere he’d always dreamed of going.

 “Brightwood shopping center, please,” he told the driver, a hint of excitement in his voice.

The driver glanced at him through the mirror. 

“Big place. Got some fancy plans for the day?”

“You could say that,” Max replied, smirking to himself. “I’m thinking of treating myself to the best lunch they’ve got.”

The cab pulled up to the towering, glass-walled center, and memories flooded back. 

He smiled ruefully, remembering all those times Amanda had visited this place, always excited for “just a little shopping.”

“She’d always ask me to come in,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

“I’d just hand over cash I didn’t have and sit outside, waiting. For what?” He chuckled dryly. “Trying to buy her happiness. Who was I kidding?”

But then, standing there, a realization hit him.

 “Wait—I own this now. This is my family’s business.” He looked up at the sleek building, an amused smirk forming.

 “Amanda would have loved that. But all those times I felt small? I get it now… I was never lacking; I just didn’t have the money.”

A breeze blew past, rustling his shirt, and he took a breath.

 “Weird how now that I can afford the most expensive restaurant.”

The taxi drove off, leaving him standing there, and as he walked up to the entrance, he felt a calm settle over him, a feeling of belonging.

 He paused, taking in the view one last time before stepping forward. 

“And there’s nothing, or no one, here who can make me feel small again.”

As Max approached the gleaming entrance of the upscale shopping center, a security guard stepped in front of him, blocking his way with a disdainful look.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going, buddy?” the guard asked, his eyes sweeping over Max’s worn-out jacket and faded jeans.

“Inside,” Max replied calmly, trying not to let the guard’s sneer get under his skin. “I’m here for lunch.”

The guard let out a harsh laugh. “Lunch? Here? You’ve got to be kidding me. Look, this isn’t the kind of place for… people like you.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, waving it in front of Max. “Here, take this, find yourself a nice little burger shack down the road. Should be enough to get you a combo meal.”

Max’s face reddened as he stared at the money in the guard’s hand.

 “I don’t need your money, and I don’t need your judgment,” he shot back, crossing his arms defiantly.

 “I’m just here for a meal, like any normal customer.”

The guard smirked, crossing his arms as well.

 “Normal customer? Look at you. This place is for people who can actually afford to eat here, not for guys pretending to play rich. Why don’t you save yourself the embarrassment?”

Max clenched his fists, his pulse racing with irritation. “You’re judging me based on my clothes? That’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” The guard laughed even louder, drawing the attention of a few shoppers passing by. 

“No, what’s ridiculous is you thinking you could afford even a sip of water in there. You’re not fooling anyone, pal.”

Nearby, Emily Rose, she recognized the man who had saved her few days back. 

She was listening the chaos, that was created in between the guard and her savior.

Max could see that the guard’s taunts were starting to draw a small crowd, and the guard only seemed to get bolder.

“Look,” the guard continued, his voice dripping with contempt, “either take the ten bucks or turn around and walk. I’m giving you a chance to save face here, alright?”

Max took a steadying breath, doing his best to keep his cool. 

“What if I told you I actually could afford to eat here?”

The guard rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, sure. And I’m next in line for the royal throne. Look, let’s cut the act. You’re just a broke college kid trying to look fancy for a minute. Don’t waste my time, alright?”

Max’s jaw tightened as he felt his patience slipping. 

“You don’t know a thing about me. Just because I’m not dressed in designer doesn’t mean I don’t belong here.”

The guard scoffed, stepping closer with a mocking grin. 

“You’re right, I don’t know you, and I don’t care to. But I’ve seen your type before—guys who walk around acting like they own the place when they can barely scrape together bus fare. How about you just leave before I make you?”

Max’s face hardened. “And what exactly would you do if I am a real customer?”

The guard snickered, his expression smug.

 “Oh, let me tell you what I’d do. If you could actually afford a meal in this place, I’d be willing to eat a toilet from the restaurant!”

The crowd chuckled at the guard’s comment, a few people even encouraging his taunts.

 Max felt a mix of embarrassment and anger, his gaze shifting from the guard to the onlookers who seemed to find this all so amusing.

He took a steady breath, reaching into his pocket.

 “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice icy.

“Absolutely,” the guard laughed, crossing his arms. “Go ahead, big shot. Prove it!”