Lizzie's Pov

I'm so careless. I made a mistake that I shouldn't have made. I'm usually picked up by my dad, I even see him every day, but why am I in such a hurry right now? Even though my dad used to pick me up at Oliver's shop at 4 p.m. I don't understand myself.

Do you know what I did? I just nudged my coffee cup off the table, and it hit the floor, shattering the glass. It was so loud. It startled me. Ben was also taken aback. In my opinion, this was a terrible mistake on my part. I didn't act carefully.

"Oh my God!" I squealed softly. I wanted to get off the chair immediately to clean up the broken cups that were now scattered on the floor, but I couldn't do it even if I wanted to. I had a problem with myself.

"It's okay, Lizzie." Ben quickly shifted his chair back, then got down and started picking up the large broken cup.

"What's going on here?" Oliver appeared from the kitchen. He ran hurriedly with a panicked face and wanted to know what was going on. This commotion made him look curious.

"No big deal, just a dropped cup." Ben replied.

"Gosh, how come?"

"It's my fault, I'm sorry." I was so sorry. I swallowed my saliva. I stared at Oliver, who started walking towards me.

"Are you hurt?" Oliver asked me.

"No, I'm fine, it's just that your cup is now broken."

"That's okay, the important thing is that you're not hurt." Oliver patted my shoulder. He smiled slightly, but I still felt guilty. And damn it, I couldn't help in any way. It's my problem, it's my fault, but I can only stand by and watch others solve my problems. You know what? This is so shucks.

"I need a broom, napkin, and garbage shovel, please." Ben said.

"Oh yeah, wait a minute." Olivier immediately ran away.

Ben and I looked at each other. I stayed silent while staring at him fiercely, while he tried to calm me down with his gentle smile.

"Everything will be fine. You just calm down, okay? It's just a small mistake, you don't need to feel too guilty."

"How can I not feel guilty when it's purely my stupid fault?" I said in a passionate voice. My tone rose several octaves. Ben looked surprised by my words, and instantly I felt even more guilty about him.

I let out a long breath. "I'm sorry for being so rude to you."

What's wrong with me? I've suddenly become an annoying person. And this can't go unpunished and shouldn't happen.

My eyes closed for a moment before saying, "I'm just upset because I can't do anything about it, I can only sit here while other people clean up the mess I made. You know what? It's really upsetting me."

My hands clenched into fists, and my anger at myself gathered together at the top of my head. Now my eyes were glazed over. "I can only screw up without being able to solve my problems. I can't be like this forever, making other people clean up all my fucking mistakes."

I was getting very emotional at this point. Ben stared at me open-mouthed. He looked confused.

"Lizzie, you just broke a glass, it's not a big deal, you did it by accident. Calm down, everything is fine."

"No, it's not okay. I..." I cried. And I felt ashamed for doing this in front of Ben, who was a stranger that I had only met a few moments ago. I hadn't even known him for an hour. And now I'm stupidly crying in front of him? Oh, that's great, Lizzie!

I tried to stop crying. I can't be a crybaby. This wasn't the first time people had cleaned up after me, but every time this happened, I was sad and angry with myself because I couldn't do anything but watch. Even simple things like cleaning up a broken cup I couldn't do. And it's always someone else who does it for me. Isn't this so annoying?

I wiped my watery eyes as Oliver reappeared carrying a broom, rag, and garbage shovel.

"Lizzie, why are you crying, honey?" Oliver asked, but I didn't respond at all. I just kept quiet while I was busy cleaning up the remaining traces of tears on my cheeks.

"Hey, dude, what's wrong with her?" I heard Oliver ask Ben.

"I don't know either." Ben replied, confused. "Give me the broom."

"No need. Let me do it, you're a customer, and it's my job."

Ben didn't argue. He let Oliver clean the floor of the scattered shards. He also brought a rag to clean up the spilled coffee that had spread everywhere. I really felt guilty about that.

"What's going on here?"

All heads immediately turned to the source of the voice. It was my dad. I hurriedly wiped my eyes. My dad can't know that I just cried, but it seems like my efforts were in vain because he's already seen me.

My dad approached me and sat beside me. The look on his face was full of curiosity. He must be wondering what happened. "Why are you crying, Lizzie? What's wrong with you?"

I shook my head, choosing to remain silent. But that doesn't make my dad give up, I know him, and he definitely wants to know what's going on with me. He will find out.

"Oliver, what's been going on here? Why is my Lizzie crying?"

I held my dad's hand. "I'm fine, dad." I didn't want him to discuss this, and he didn't need to know.

But, it seemed pointless. My dad demanded an answer.

"Just a small problem." Oliver began to explain. "Lizzie just broke a coffee cup. That's all."

My dad looked at me more carefully. "And why are you crying? Are you hurt, honey?"

"Oh, dad. I'm fine. I just..." I sighed heavily. I shook my head. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Alright, you want to go home now?"

I didn't answer, instead, I gave a short nod.

My dad took his wallet from his coat pocket. "How much should Lizzie pay, Oliver?"

"No, dad. Let me pay for it. It's not your fault." I hurriedly picked up my bag, then looked for my wallet, which was currently hiding somewhere. I searched for it, but couldn't find it. Damn it, where's my wallet? I get annoyed when things go wrong.

"Never mind, let me pay." I couldn't stop my dad, who was already taking money from inside his wallet.

"The broken cup doesn't need to be replaced. It's okay," Oliver said. "Just pay for the coffee."

I shook my head quickly at Oliver's words. "It can't be like that. I have to compensate. It's my responsibility."

"No need, Lizzie. I don't want to—"

"No." I remained adamant. "I don't want to do this." And I finally found my wallet. I hurriedly took out my money. "I broke your cup, I have to pay for my actions. You can't just refuse. Please, Oliver. I don't want to keep feeling guilty if you refuse to pay for the mess I made."

I've caused so much trouble for people. I just broke a cup and made Ben and Oliver clean up my shit. Then, I leave with clean hands without doing anything? No, this is my fault. I can't let myself be irresponsible.

"Alright." Oliver let out a long sigh. He finally gave up and chose to give in.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, how much should I pay? Everything, two cups of coffee and one broken cup."

Oliver said the amount. And I paid him. After doing that, I felt a little better, even though I couldn't entirely get rid of the bad feeling I had. I'm always inconveniencing people, and I can't change that fact. I'm trying to be okay with it, but I just can't.

"Do you want to go home now?" My dad asked.

"Yes."

I picked up my bag and my crutches. And when my dad got ready to carry me, I immediately said, "You don't have to help me, dad," I said. "I want to do it myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'll try." I started to stand up with the help of my crutches. I managed to do it, even though it was difficult.

My dad looked hesitant and overly cautious, afraid of me falling, but I was already quite used to walking with the help of crutches.

"I'm okay, dad," I said.

"Let me carry your bag."

This one I didn't refuse. I let my dad do it. Then, my gaze fell on Oliver and Ben.

"Thank you both for your help," I said sincerely to them.

"No big deal." Oliver replied, while Ben just smiled and nodded.

Then I walked slowly with my crutches to my dad's car parked in front of the shop. It took effort and time to get there. I didn't want my dad to keep helping me. Indeed, with him carrying me, it would make it easier and much faster for us to get to the car, but I wanted to walk alone. I was too much trouble for other people, especially my dad. I just want to try to be independent.

Once in the car, my dad started his car, and we drove towards home. I was quiet the whole way, just watching the wet road. The rain had stopped.

Then, my mind drifted to Ben right when my dad said.

"Hey, do you have something to say to me?"

I turned to look at my dad. "What do you mean?"

"You know, I'm always by your side, I'm ready to listen to your stories. Maybe about the feelings you just had at the shop? I'm sure it wasn't for no reason that you cried."

I looked down. I looked down at my hands. "You already know, I broke the cup."

"I don't think that's the only reason you're crying."

"Dad, I just don't want to discuss it." I looked at my dad seriously. "Can you give me some time and space to be quiet? I'm not in the mood to say anything. I'm begging you."

My dad nodded. "Fine if that's what you want, but if there's anything, you know you can tell me. You can count on your dad."

"I know." I tried to create a smile. "Thanks, dad. I'll remember that."

And then, my dad stroked my hair. It made me feel comfortable and happy that he did that for me.