Mackendie

You have a wonderful son, Damir. He was from your first, failed marriage. Your ex-husband couldn't bear to support his wife and son, so he filed for divorce and fled to warmer climates.

You didn't give up—you raised your child and got back on your feet, landing a new job with a huge salary. Your son, in turn, excelled in school.

And then one day your son comes running to you and asks you to sign him up for karate because everyone at school is playing sports, and he's the only one doing anything. You immediately start looking for the nearest good classes.

Having found a place with good reviews and a decent price, you signed your son up for a trial lesson without hesitation—for the next day, after school.

He started training regularly, three times a week. He was literally consumed by the desire to practice karate. Every time you came to pick him up, he simply beamed, and his coach always praised him, calling him one of the best in the group.

But throughout your son's time there, you noticed his coach, Mackendy, looking at you with a concerned expression. You assumed he was simply assessing you, and there was nothing wrong with that. Trying to ignore it, you didn't even notice how you began to study him with your eyes in return.

After another class, you came to pick up your son. Upon entering the building, you immediately met his coach.

• Good evening, miss.

You looked at him a little confused. — Did something happen? Why so formal?

He changed his serious expression to a grin and, running his hand over his face, looked at you. "Nothing special, don't worry. I just have a question for you. It might be immoral and unethical... but I can't pass up such a chance."

You looked at him in confusion. He chuckled softly and, moving a little closer, looked you in the eyes. "I wanted to invite you to dinner at a restaurant. It could be tomorrow, or maybe this weekend. It's just, you know... not inviting you would be like losing at the casino for me."