Another day is here, sunlight spills through the windows, drenching the floor and room in soft gold, but it doesn't feel warm. It feels like exposure of the truth that is shining too brightly over all the cracks I've tried to smooth out, every hairline fracture running through the fragile porcelain of my composure.
I'm standing in front of the mirror, holding the card like it might burn me. The one that he gave me the night before. A sleek black rectangle with my name engraved in gold that glints with quiet authority.
It doesn't burn me, it just sits there. Cold, lifeless yet powerful enough to make my pulse feel in my hands.
Just like him.
I open my phone, stare at it. I open the old group chat, it's still there. I type;
Nyra: Wanna go shopping today? I'll treat.
Three dots blink. Then;
Petra: Only if we can stop for coffee first. I need fuel.
A minute later,
Cara: I'm in. I need entertainment. I've missed this.
Relief stirs into my body but it doesn't swell like joy, it just rises faintly. I don't know why, these days I feel like we are not same as before. I feel it now more than ever but all I could think is about that familiarity, laughter, that doesn't cut too deep. They're not perfect but they're not cruel. Not like others.
I type back.
Nyra: 11 AM. Brielle Plaza.
I dress in a pale ivory blouse, soft against my skin. It's one of the dress, I love the most. I tucked into tailored beige pants, a flat shoe and a delicate chain around my neck. No loud makeup, no drama, just my perfume, the one that ling like memory. Today, I don't want to look miserable even if my empire has fallen.
I felt like I'm wrapped in the elegance that whispers instead of shouts. Today it is not about being noticed. It is about surviving.
When I arrive, the boutique gleams with curated lighting and silent judgement. The soft music floats in the air and the scent of citrus and leather presses against my senses...
Petra and Cara are already browsing through the mall, their arms full of colour and sparkle. I joined them. We laugh quietly over an outrageous hat and for a moment, things feel easy. It feels real, Laughter that I haven't had in many days. It doesn't last.
She appears.
Ivy.
Her heels sharp, clicking with intent. A smile that is sharper, dressed in designer malice.
Whenever she shows up, I get this uneasy feeling, like something bad is about to happen to me.
"Didn't know the drama came free with the shopping bags. Didn't expect you to see here Miss Fraud." She says.
I freeze.
She stands a few feet away from us, draped in designer smugness. Ivy; Lily's so-called best friend. The one who always wears secrets like perfume.
Petra stiffens while Clara gives a tight smile, already turning away back to the rack like nothing happened. If Maya were here.... She wouldn't have sliced Ivy open with words before I could even blink. I stayed silent.
Petra and Clara, of course they don't speak up.
Not here. Not for this.
They prefer pretending not to hear and it hits me. Maybe we're only friends when it's easy. And now I miss Maya badly, she isn't here, not in my engagement shopping.
Ivy steps closer, "Trying to buy your dignity back? That's pretty bold of you, Miss Fraud."
I swallow, tightly gripping a midnight blue gown that is in my hand which I had just pulled from the rack. My knuckles, they are white.
She notices and smirks. "Still chasing your little fairy tales? Back then, during school days, you were the one who wrote that letter right? The one Rian didn't want, remember?"
My heart stutters thinking about that letter, my handwriting and the cherry blossom tree. I had folded my feelings into it. The letter was posted online, after the day I told him my feelings with the letter, handing it to him like a gift. I was mocked throughout the internet and torn apart. I've always believed he was the one who leaked it because he walked away with the letter in his hand that day. I still blame him for this, I can't forgive him for that.
Lily was there too, she might have told Ivy. I was too humiliated, I didn't even dare to raise my head after that day.
Ivy's voice drops, syrupy and sharp. She's about to twist the knife again, stirring the past that hurt me, "It was embarrassing…."
She was interrupted, seeing someone walked through the door.
I turned;
Rian Ashford.
He walks in. Tall, composed and dressed like yesterday never ended. He is too perfect.
His eyes find me instantly, they lock onto mine, there is something unreadable in his expression. It's kind of gaze that pierce you inside and out without touching.
Cara blinks. "Oh."
Petra's brows lift, uncertain. I haven't told them about my engagement with Rian yet.
Ivy turns slowly, her voice faltering. "Rian. Long time no see. Didn't know you'd be here."
He doesn't answer her.
He walks straight to me. He looks at the gown in my hands and maybe he notices that my hands, they are shaking.
"Is there a problem?" he asks, his voice quiet but edged.
Ivy blinks, then laughs. "Of course not. Just old friend, catching up. Right Nyra?"
"I wasn't talking to you," he says, never even glancing her way. He was looking in my eyes without breaking the contact.
Then, he asks me again, this time gentler "Have you picked something, love?"
I nod slightly, afraid to speak. The word love, it's a lie but it works. I look into ivy eyes, maybe something changed when he called me love.
He takes the gown gently from my hands and hands it to the assistant. "She'll try this."
Ivy opens her mouth. "Rian"
He turns to her then. The look in his eyes stops her mid-sentence.
"Do I know you?"
The Silence stretch for too long.
Ivy steps back, her jaw clenched and her smile cracks.
Maybe Rian knows that I was trembling inside. He looks at me again, softer now. "Go try it on."
Inside, I stare at my reflection. The gown perfectly fits like it remembers me. Like it was made for me and I.....I am the version of me I've tried to bury. It isn't gone, just waiting for me.
I step out.
His gaze sweeps over me, maybe I was too delusional, for a moment I saw possessiveness in his eyes. He was looking at me focused like I belong to him.
"You look," he says, "right in that."
Not beautiful, just right. And his words, they disappoint me, how cold and careful his words are. What I saw in his gaze was all my delusion.
He turns, moving to the counter.
Ivy drifts close again, her voice low and smug. "If Lily were here, you wouldn't even get this much attention. You know that, right?"
Something inside me flinches. Lily, she is abroad, studying. There were rumors from back then which have never really gone away. Her and Rian, they were dating and whispers of something more.
Was it ever true? I don't know.
Rian returns, he hands the package to his assistant. "We'll take this, deliver it."
He comes to me again, standing just too close. Close enough to feel the heat of his skin but not the warmth.
"Did you enjoy your shopping, love?" he asks. His voice is soft but firm, a command wrapped in velvet.
He offers his hand. The silence behind me thickens but I was satisfied seeing Petra's soft chuckle and the expressions in Ivy's face, her smile has cracked at the edges.
I take his hand. Not because I've forgiven him. Not because I understand him. The reason was, right now, I need someone to stand between me and the edge of my shame and he does.
My heart is breaking but my pride stands taller than it has in weeks.
I know I'm still falling from the height... but not everyone needs to see me hit the ground.
Outside, the sunlight filters through the clouds. He holds the car door open, the car just black as his heart. Why it's always black?
But I don't get in. I look down and then finally I muttered some words "Why are you here?"
I look at him "You didn't have to come," I say.
He tilts his head slightly "Didn't I?"
"You made me feel like a burden last night, with your silence. And now today you…" My voice breaks. "You show up, Why?"
A pause, he looks to his side and then back at me. "Every question doesn't have to be answered," he says.
I blink. "What?"
He repeats, softer this time. "I'm responsible for your well-being whether it's physical, social or emotional."
I laugh, short and sharp. "So that's all this is? Maybe another clause of your contract?"
He doesn't speak.
And the silence slices deeper than anything. I get in the car because I have nowhere else to go.
He drives. Quiet, focused.
Then, just when I stop expecting words from him, "I didn't come for the clause" he says.
I turn to him "Then why? Why Rian? Answer me."
He said, "I don't want you around people who mock you."
"That's not the answer of my question." I look at him, my jaw clench, "And to be honest, you're no better."
He doesn't flinch.
"Your silence," I continue. "Your rules, your cold indifference, it cuts deeper than anything they said and I really hate that."
With the softness in his voice he says, "But I never laughed at you in pain, love."
The car went quiet again. His words echoed louder than anything. It isn't love but it's nothing either. I have no words to say now because hope is starting to bloom again. And I hate it. Hate that he can still light a fire in me with one sentence, just one look.
And I'm not sure if it will save me or ruin me.