His 181St Second (Laverne and Marina) novel Chapter 19

**Winds Carry Lost Promises by Asa Holt Vale**

**Chapter 19**

The day at the hospital had left Daron’s coat utterly drenched, the fabric soaked through with the unexpected splashes of water.

Once Marina returned home after her discharge, she wasted no time. She hand-washed the coat, hoping to restore it to its former glory, and hung it delicately in the laundry room, where it now hung, still damp and waiting to dry.

But today marked a turning point for Marina. She felt a surge of determination wash over her, shaking off the remnants of her earlier despondency. Her mind raced as she contemplated how to approach Daron about the Ross Group share purchase. She needed to find a way to persuade him when she finally saw him again.

Lost in her swirling thoughts, she drifted into the laundry room, only to come to a sudden halt. Her gaze fell upon the coat hanging from the rack, and her heart sank. It had shrunk to a fraction of its original size, a comical miniature version of itself. A wave of panic washed over her, and her mind momentarily short-circuited.

Flustered, she snatched the coat from its hanger, inspecting it from every angle. Yes, it was undeniably Daron’s coat. She stood there, frozen in disbelief, realizing she had utterly botched the wash and ruined it beyond recognition.

A surge of frustration bubbled up within her. After a moment of furious contemplation, she pulled out her phone and began searching for solutions. How to salvage a shrunken wool coat?

She scrolled through the results, but most were just sponsored ads pushing products that promised miraculous fixes.

Finding no real guidance online, she resigned herself to the reality of the situation. With a heavy heart, she gathered the shrunken coat and made her way to a local dry cleaner, hoping for a miracle.

Upon entering, the staff eyed the brand label with a mix of curiosity and concern. “These high-end brands are super expensive,” one of them explained politely. “We’re not equipped to handle something like this. If we make it worse, we couldn’t afford to replace it.”

Marina felt a wave of defeat wash over her. She didn’t press the matter further; instead, she left the store, climbed back into her car, and dialed the unknown number she had received earlier.

The phone rang just once before someone answered.

Gathering her courage, she spoke softly, her voice laced with regret. “Garret, I’m really sorry about this, but… I think I ruined Mr. Zamora’s coat when I washed it.”

An uncomfortable silence enveloped the line.

In a rush, she continued, “I’m so sorry; it was completely my oversight. I’d be happy to pay the full—”

Before she could finish, a deep, impassive voice interrupted her. “You’ve got some nerve.” It was Daron.

Mortified, Marina tightened her grip on the phone, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

Daron’s response was curt. “Bring the coat back here first, then we’ll talk.”

With that, he abruptly ended the call.

Sitting alone in her car, Marina let out a frustrated groan, feeling as though she were cursed with a streak of bad luck. It seemed that every disaster had chosen to strike her at once, and now, to top it all off, she was facing Daron, the one person she least wanted to witness her humiliation.

Fighting back tears, she steadied herself, fired up the engine, and steered her car toward Daron’s imposing apartment building.

Thanks to her previous unannounced visit, security was noticeably tighter now. The property manager called Garret to confirm her identity, and only after Daron himself gave the green light did they allow her entry.

A bitter smile crept onto her lips as she realized the implications. She had stormed off earlier with a sharp retort, and now Daron was being vindictive enough to require visitor pre-approval.

Feeling deflated, she lingered at the door, summoning the courage to ring the bell. As soon as the door swung open, her sour expression transformed into a contrite smile.

“Sorry, Mr. Zamora,” she began, holding out a shopping bag with both hands as if it were a fragile treasure. “I take full responsibility for shrinking the coat. I’ll compensate you for the exact—”

Daron took the bag from her, pulling out the coat. In his hands, it looked almost absurdly small.

Marina couldn’t meet his gaze, guilt flooding her as she forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Mr. Zamora, what’s the price on this coat? I’ll Venmo it to you right away.”

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