Chapter 2
1136 Words
Miel felt all her fatigue from work fading away. She patted the soft hands that embraced her from behind. Her nostrils filled with the familiar scent—jasmine and coffee.
The woman behind her chuckled before stepping back with a teasing smirk. “Did I surprise you?”
Miel turned to face her properly. Amy was, as always, effortlessly stylish—her chestnut hair flowing in perfect waves, a sharp blazer thrown over a casual crop top, and high-waisted jeans, paired with sleek heels. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine.
Yet, despite all that glamour, Amy had already made herself comfortable—heels kicked off, bag tossed onto the couch, legs folded as if this was her personal lounge.
Miel shook her head, fighting the impulse to take a picture of this messy version of Amy and post it online. But she held back—Amy was particular about her public image.
Rolling her eyes, Miel crossed her arms. “Yeah, yeah. So-so. You’ve been here for five minutes, and my room already looks like you’re moving in.”
Amy grinned, flopping down onto the couch. “You love it. Also, I see that the sharp tongue is still intact. No emotional ‘I missed you’ or anything?”
Miel smirked. “Please. You look way too happy for someone who just got off a long flight. You must’ve charmed some poor guy on the way here.”
Amy leaned in with a sly smile. “Maybe. Or maybe I’d be even happier if I could steal your heart instead.”
Miel snorted. “Not happening.”
“Tragic,” Amy sighed dramatically, clutching her heart. But then, her expression softened. “So, how’s life in the ER? Still playing God?”
Miel shrugged. “Same old excitement. Roller coaster ride. Saving lives. Stopping people from dying. No big deal.”
Amy whistled. “Ugh, so heroic.” Then, with a proud grin, she added, “And me? You’re not going to ask about my new book?”
Miel raised a brow. “Oh yeah, got any new inspiration for your next novel?”
Amy’s smile turned victorious. “Absolutely. I found my male lead in real life. And I have a feeling this one’s going to be a bestseller. Just like my last one, three years ago. Mark my words.”
Miel huffed a laugh. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Then, as if remembering something, Amy tilted her head. “Hey… did Ethan contact you?”
Miel blinked. “Why?”
Amy leaned back against the couch. “I could’ve sworn I saw someone like him when I landed today. Couldn’t be sure, but it looked just like him. Maybe I was confused, though… He would never—”
“You weren’t mistaken,” Miel cut in. “He’s in Trinity City. He invited me to Ambrose. At nine.”
Amy’s expression shifted slightly—something unreadable in her eyes. “What? So sudden. That’s the first date invitation in three years. Are you really going?”
Miel disappeared into the changing room without answering. A few minutes later, she stepped out in a simple, elegant dress—nothing extravagant, but enough to look not too shabby.
“Of course, I’m going,” she said, grabbing her purse. “I’d be crazy to miss it.”
Amy watched her closely, hesitating. “Miel, I—”
But before she could finish, Miel shoved her keys into Amy’s hand. “Let’s meet at home later. I’ll hear all your stories then, I promise.”
Amy sighed, watching as Miel rushed out the door.
“You i***t…” she murmured under her breath.
Miel slipped into her little outdated car, Amy’s words replaying in her mind.
'Did she really see Ethan at the airport? Why didn’t he tell me he was coming back earlier?'
Three years. All he ever said was that he was busy—busy building a future for them. And now, just like that, he was back without any heads-up. Three damn years passed, and he just shows up like this, casually dropping a dinner invite like no time had passed?
Her heart clenched.
She shook her head. “Not the time to overthink this, Miel.”
Halfway to Ambrose, her phone pinged with a voice message.
Amy’s voice chimed through the speakers.
“My goddess, please get a fancy dress. What if he dumps you for a new stylist girlfriend?”
Miel groaned. “Ugh. Damn it, Amy.”
But the words stuck.
She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and frowned.
She looked… plain. It's not bad, but not exactly date-worthy either.
On impulse, she made a sharp turn and pulled up in front of a boutique.
The bright lights and endless racks overwhelmed her. She wasn’t terrible at fashion, but she had zero patience for it.
A salesperson appeared almost immediately, eyes sparkling at the potential commission.
“Looking for something special?”
Miel exhaled. “I need a dress for a date. Like, right now. Something that won’t make me look like I have not prepared for a date.”
The woman’s eyes lit up. “I got you.”
Before Miel could protest, the salesperson pulled a red halter dress from the rack. “Try this. No questions.”
Miel hesitated but grabbed it. She changed quickly, barely looking in the mirror before stepping out.
The salesperson gasped. “Oh, wow.”
Miel frowned. “What?”
“You look good. Like, effortlessly good.”
Miel blinked at her reflection.
It did look good. The dress hugged her in all the right places—elegant, but not over the top.
The woman tapped her chin. “Your hair—let it down.”
Miel sighed but pulled off her hair tie. Her dark locks fell loosely around her shoulders.
Another gasp. “Now this—if you had time for a makeover, you’d look like a celebrity.”
Miel snorted. “Okay, now you’re exaggerating.”
The woman shook her head. “I’m serious. Even without makeup, you have that natural, effortless beauty. Some people would kill for that.”
A strange warmth crept up Miel’s neck. “Well… thanks.”
She glanced at her watch—
8:50 PM.
'Crap. Gotta hurry.'
She grabbed her wallet and rushed to the counter.
Then, she saw the price.
Her stomach twisted.
It was expensive. More than she had ever spent on a dress.
For a second, she hesitated.
Then, she exhaled.
'It’s worth it. It’s for Ethan. It is for our long-awaited date.'
She swiped her card.
As the machine beeped, something inside her ached. She couldn’t pinpoint why.
She ignored it.
She had a date to get to.
- Writer
