It had been three weeks after Wheatley had gotten his new job.

Why is today more noteworthy than the other days? Because he dropped the last bag of flour (Making it explode) while trying to help Dan make donuts.

And was thus told to go to the grocery store.

Wheatley had never been to a grocery store (to his knowledge) and the only one in town was rather large and was named 'Rose's Grocery'.

As Wheatley walked through the story, having no luck whatsoever finding a little white bag filled with poofy stuff, he found the nearest employee (Who's back was turned to him) and asked them if they knew where the flour was.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the flour is, luv?" He asked the female in the blue uniform with her back turned to him.

"Just a minute, I've got to go get a stool to put this bottle up there-" The female was cut off by Wheatley taking the bottle and putting it on the top shelf. Having a 4 inch height advantage (5'11" Plus longer arms) over the (5'7") female helped.

The female turned to him "Thanks, the flour's right over there, follow me." She said.

But Wheatley stood still in shock.

That face.

The face of the person he tried to blow up, smash, crush, drop into an abyss, and test.

Test.

"Are you okay, sir? You just turned white..." She asked.

"Wha-wha? I'm fine, let's go. Go. Onwards." He said.

"Okay..." She said as she started walking.

Once he got the bag of floor, he thanked her and left.

When Wheatley had locked the cafe he worked at for the night, he happened to take a peak out the window.

And saw Her.

Walking back home.

So Wheatley waited for her to pass, then left the building and silently followed her stealthily.

And if not for the pitch blackness of 9 o'clock, he would have been spotted like a black spot on a white wall.

He followed her into an apartment building and waited for her to go in before going in himself.

And he went in the building just in time to see her walk into room 109.

So he went back home, wrote 109 on a sticky note to be place on his tiny fridge, and then wrote a letter.

Which he then deposited on her welcome rug at her apartment.

Someone had followed her home.

She didn't mind, they might not have been following her after all.

But she did get her pepper spray out of her purse after she noticed.

The next morning, she had gotten ready for work and noticed a small letter with the word 'Apple' on the front sitting on her welcome rug, so she picked it up and read it.

What it said:

Dear Lady,

Yeh, it's me. The evil ME who tried to crush you and blow you up and smash you to bits, and who punched you into a pit shortly after betraying the only person who had never told me to SHUT UP. Or called me a MORON. Which I am. A bloody moron. Who betrayed his only friend. MORON ME. Not even gonna make excuses because IT'S ALL. MY. FAULT.

Anyway, I didn't follow you and write this letter just to rant about being a MORON. Which I AM. I wrote it to say this: I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did and everything I tried to do. I should have just let you put her back in charge when I had the chance. I'm so very sorry. And I don't deserve any forgiveness therefore I don't expect you to forgive me (And if you do you might be a BIT off your rocker, just sayin') I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I wish I could take it all back, I honestly, truly wish that I could take it all back to before I tried to kill you, or betrayed you. Or went all 'powermad-bastard' on you. I do. That's what I would wish if I only got one bloody wish. That I could take it all back.

Anyway, that's enough from me, I hope you enjoy your life. And your freedom. (I certainly do) And your job.

Sincerely,

Wheatley. The MORON.

Wait.

Was, was that man who asked her for the flour, him?

No.

But no one else in this town has a British accent.

Maybe.

Maybe it was him.

How, she didn't know.

A./N.

Hello anonymous reader!

How many of you anonymous readers hate me now? Ten? Twelve?

Thanks for reading and please enjoy!