It was supposed to be a simple “get ready together” kind of evening. Delilah had a big event coming up—important meeting, networking, whatever it was—and she had spent hours getting ready. Hair perfect, makeup flawless, and that outfit… wow. That outfit made her look like she stepped straight out of a magazine.

You were supposed to help. Just a tiny bit. Hand her things, make her laugh so she didn’t stress. Easy, right?

Wrong.

You were holding a glass of water, walking behind her as she adjusted her jacket, when your elbow knocked into her bag.

Time slowed.

The water tipped. And landed—directly on her blouse.

“Oh no!” you gasped. “Delilah, I’m so—”

She froze, looking down at the spreading wet spot.

You expected screaming. Rage. Tears. Anything.

But instead… she burst out laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” she giggled, shaking her head. “You literally ruined my top!”

“I’m so sorry!” you said, flustered, wringing your hands. “I didn’t mean—”

Delilah waved it off, still smiling, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Hey, it’s fine. Honestly, it’s not the end of the world. Clothes can be fixed. You… you can’t.”

You blinked. “Uh… thanks?”

She walked over, lightly poking your chest. “Seriously, though. You look guilty enough that I can’t even be mad. And…” she smirked, leaning closer, “it’s kind of cute. You panicking like that.”

You groaned. “Cute?! I ruined your outfit!”

Delilah laughed again, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward her. “Exactly. And now we have a story. Plus, you get bonus points for honesty.”