The Night We Met

A girl drunkenly stumbled up the steps of Miguel's front porch, her strides uneven and her eyes blurry. She pounded on the door with a strength that opposed her drunkenness. The light from inside flickered through the frosted glass as Miguel approached, his face etched with fatigue and irritation.

"Who the fuck is it?" Miguel called out, his voice carrying a mix of caution and anger.

"Hi… Hello, can you please help me?" the girl slurred, struggling to keep her balance. "Please, can you let me in?"

Miguel opened the door slightly, peering at her with a furrowed brow as the stench of alcohol wafted his face. "Who are you? What are you doing here, and what do you want? It’s late."

"I live across the street," the girl said, her voice trembling. "I’m locked out, and I just need somewhere to stay tonight. Please, can you let me stay?"

He hesitated, the weariness of his long week coming down on him. The last thing he wanted was to deal with unwanted visitors, especially under these circumstances. 

"I don’t know who you are… Look, hey man, I have a gun, I don’t know what you’re playing at, it's 2 in the morning." Miguel said, trying to keep his voice firm despite the creeping concern in his chest.

The girl’s eyes went wide with fear, her desperation palpable. "There’s no need for that. I just... I don’t have anywhere else to go. I promise I won’t be a bother."

Miguel sighed heavily, his internal conflict evident. Part of him wanted to shut the door and go back to his bed and go to sleep. Yet something inside him, he hadn’t felt in a long time—pulled him toward her. She reminded him of his ex-fiancé in an unsettling and strangely comforting way. 

"Fine," he said finally, stepping back to let her in. "You can stay on the couch, but I’m only letting you in because it’s freezing out there."

"Thank you," the girl mumbled, her voice barely audible as she stumbled inside.

 Miguel led her to the living room, motioning toward the couch.

As the girl settled onto the couch, Miguel watched her from the doorway, his emotions tangled. He found himself drawn to her beauty and vulnerability; feelings he hadn’t experienced since his last relationship ended. It was a strange mix of nostalgia and concern, and he struggled to process it.Miguel turned away, trying to shake off the lingering pull he felt. 

"Try to get some rest," he said, his voice softer now. "I’ll be in the other room if you need anything."

The girl nodded, her eyes already closing as exhaustion took over. 

“Hey,” the girl called out sleepily, “My name is Nancy.”

“Hi Nancy, I’m Miguel.” He said softly,” Now go to sleep.”

Miguel turned off the light and walked to his bedroom. As he closed the door behind him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had changed something, even if he wasn’t sure what it was yet.Miguel lay in bed, his mind racing with thoughts about the stranger he had let into his home. 

Despite his early reluctance, the vulnerability in Nancy’s eyes had struck a chord deep within him. He tried to focus on the reasons why he had let her stay, reminding himself that it was a matter of compassion and humanity. 

The image of her, drunk and distressed, lingered in his thoughts.He wondered about her life—what had led her to this moment, stumbling up his porch in the middle of the night. 

The echoes of his previous relationship seemed to blend with the present, creating an emotional uproar he didnt expect.

Sleep avoided him as he tossed and turned, unable to shake the awkwardness. He found himself replaying the brief interaction over and over, analyzing every detail.The isolation of his own life differentiated sharply with Nancy’s apparent despondency, leaving him pensive.

As the hours went by, Miguel’s thoughts gradually shifted from Nancy to his own need for connection. He realized how disconnected he had become, hiding behind his angry demeanor and routine. 

The encounter with Nancy was unexpected, but it had awakened a part of him that wanted human connection, something he had pushed aside for too long.

When the morning light started to seep through the window, Miguel got up and quietly made his way to the living room. 

Nancy was still asleep on the couch, her breathing steady and calm. For a moment, Miguel watched her, thinking of the strange turn his night had taken.

He decided that he’d let her sleep a bit longer and when she was ready to get up she would.

Miguel went back to his room quietly, his mind settling into a calmer, more hopeful place. The night had brought about a shift, and though he didn’t fully understand it, he was open to whatever change it might bring.

To Be Continued...