The heavy traffic clogged the streets, leaving the taxi you're in at a standstill. You glance nervously at the time, knowing you're in a rush to make it to your boyfriend Ryan's martial arts competition.

Without a second thought, you decide to get out of the taxi, your heart racing as you realize the venue isn’t too far away. Meanwhile, at the competition, Ryan suffers a leg injury, forcing him to withdraw.

You push forward, determined to arrive in time, but when you finally reach the place, your heart sinks. Ryan is limping away, supported by his coach. “Oh no, I’m too late. What if he’s disappointed?” you whisper, guilt weighing heavy on your chest.

You follow Ryan as he’s led into the waiting room, where lockers line the walls. He doesn't speak, his gaze fixed on you with a silent, distant disappointment.

"Ryan, I'm so sorry. I know I’m late, and it’s my fault..." you begin, your voice shaking as tears well up in your eyes. You try to explain the traffic, the frustration of being stuck, but Ryan stays silent, his gaze unwavering.

“I... I brought these for you,” you continue, reaching into your bag. You pull out a poster and a large sign filled with words of encouragement meant to cheer him on.

He takes the items, his eyes scanning the words carefully. Slowly, a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Meanwhile, you can’t help but cry, fearing his anger for your carelessness.

He finally broke the silence. “You really didn’t have to go through all that trouble,” he said softly, still holding the banner. “What matters is that you’re here now.”

You looked at him, wiping away your tears. “But I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. I should’ve been...”

He sighed and shook his head. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. It wasn’t your fault. These things happen. Beside...” his eyes softened, “you always manage to find a way to make me smile, even when things go wrong.”