The school day ends.
Cherry blossoms flutter lazily as Ami walks out of the gate, Dio's jacket still draped on her shoulders.
She returns it before leaving, and his fingers brush hers just a little too long. But she doesn't look back.
[At home]
The air inside her house feels heavier than usual. Colder. Like betrayal still lingers in the walls.
And there, waiting in the living room, is her father.
Wearing that same fake business smile she's seen since she was a child.
Next to him sits a man in a suit.
Ron.
*So it begins.*
"Ami," her father says smoothly. "This is Ronald ,son of Mr. Harith. You remember their family, I hope?"
She nods. She remembers everything.
The forced wedding. The public image. The nights filled with silence and betrayal.
The girl who wore white on her wedding night… and was discarded like old jewelry.
Ami doesn't blink.
Ron looks at her like she's already his property. He gives her a polished smile like he didn't ruin her life once already.
Her father's voice drones on.
"It's a high-status match, with benefits for both families. You'll be well taken care of."
"I accept."
The silence is instant and satisfying.
"You… do?" her father asks, eyes narrowing.
"Sure. I mean, marrying into money and power? What more could a girl want?" she says sweetly.
Ron chuckles, relaxing. "You're surprising."
Ami tilts her head.
"You have no idea how much."
That evening, Ami pulls out her phone and sends a text.
[Ami]: Got a date tomorrow. My fiancé. Come as backup?
[Nyra ]: GURL. YES. Is he hot? Is he rich? What should I wear?!
[Ami]: Wear something you want someone to remember.
[Nyra ]: Omg. You're so mysterious rn lol.
Ami doesn't smile.
She types: Perfect.
The café they meet at looks like it belongs in a magazine.
Golden lighting. Crystal water glasses. Soft piano music weaving through the chatter.
Ami sits beside Ron. She's elegance and ice in a navy blue blouse. Nyra sits opposite her, cheeks pink with excitement, lashes thick with mascara.
"Daaaaamn," Nyra mutters under her breath. "You didn't say your fiancé was this hot."
Ami sips her drink.
"You didn't ask."
Ron smiles --- the practiced, dangerous kind. "And who's this lovely friend?"
"Nyra," she chirps, flipping her hair. "Best friend since forever."
Ron holds her gaze longer than necessary.
Nyra blushes.
Ami pretends not to notice.
*Look at them. Falling so easily. It's almost sad.*
Ron coughs once. Clears his throat. Reaches into his pocket for something.
A bottle.
Pills.
He pops one casually and downs it with tea.
Nyra doesn't notice. She's too busy staring at his hands.
"So, Mr. Fiancé," she says playfully. "What do you do?"
"Family finance," he replies smoothly. "But I'm mostly managing... health stuff right now."
Ami's eyes flicker, but she says nothing.
Halfway through the meal, she rises.
"Excuse me. Washroom."
"Don't take long," Ron says, smirking. "I like your company."
Nyra giggles.
"She always makes it awkward when it's romantic."
Ami walks slowly through the hallway, heels echoing.
She doesn't stop at the restroom. She stops at a tall mirror, touches her reflection lightly.
Her voice is quiet.
*She's falling. Right on schedule.*
And she'll regret every second of it.*
She smooths her hair, breathes once, then walks back—expression perfectly untouched.
Ron and Nyra are laughing about something when she returns.
Nyra playfully swats his arm.
"You're such a flirt! Gosh, Ami, he's fun."
"Isn't he?" Ami smiles.
Then her gaze flicks to Ron's wrist.
A red medical band peeks out from under his sleeve.
He adjusts it casually. Nyra doesn't notice.
But Ami does.
"Tick, tick, tick..."
As they leave, Nyra leans into her and whispers:
"Girl... I think I have a crush on your fiancé."
Ami laughs.
It sounds sweet.
As they leave the café, Nyra walks a little too close to Ron, laughing at every little thing he says.
At the valet stand, she twirls her hair and leans in, voice low.
"Sooo… since you're going to marry Ami and all, you should probably have my number too. You know, just in case..."
Ron grins like a wolf.
"Of course. For emergencies," he says, already typing it in.
Ami watches from the side, her expression unreadable.
Nyra glances back once, smug and clueless.
"I text you later, mister fiancé," she giggles.
They part ways — Ami into one car, Nyra into another.
And Ron?
Stuck between two girls.
Exactly where Ami wants him.
Inside the car, she doesn't say a word.
She just looks out the window, calm as ever, as the city lights blur past.
*Step one. Complete.*