Chapter 3
1215 Words
Miel stepped into Ambrose, her breath uneven from rushing, yet her posture remained composed.
The restaurant was warm and elegant, bathed in soft golden light. Soft music played in the background, blending with the gentle hum of conversation and the clinking of wine glasses. The air smelled of rich spices and fresh roses, yet to her, it felt suffocating.
Her heart pounded as her eyes swept across the room.
And then—she saw him.
Ethan.
The world around her blurred.
Her breath hitched.
She hadn't seen her up close for three years...
Three years. Three long, agonizing years without seeing him close.
Yet, time had done nothing to him.
That sharp jawline, those dark, unruly locks, the piercing gaze that once saw right through her—he was still the same.
But her world wasn’t. Something inside her wasn't the same as before.
Miel’s stomach twisted violently as her gaze shifted.
Ethan wasn’t alone.
Miel’s stomach dropped.
Sitting across from him was a woman.
A beautiful younger woman.
A woman who belonged in the upper class.
She was breathtaking. Long, sleek hair flowed down her shoulders, the deep red of her dress hugging her curves like it was only designed for her. Every movement she made was graceful and effortless. She exuded confidence—the kind of confidence that came from knowing she was wanted.
And Ethan—
He was smiling at her.
Not just any smile.
A tender smile. A smile Miel had never seen before.
And then—he lifted a fork.
And fed her.
A piece of cake. A small, intimate gesture. But it struck Miel like a knife to the chest.
Ethan never did that for her.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as a sharp pain bloomed in her chest.
The once lively restaurant faded into a dull blur, her vision narrowing until all she could see was them. The sounds around her dulled—muffled laughter, distant chatter—all of it seemed meaningless.
Then—as if sensing her presence—
Ethan turned.
Their eyes met.
For a brief second, he froze.
Then—his fingers slipped. The fork dropped onto the plate, loud enough to make the woman beside him glance his way.
Miel felt like she couldn’t breathe.
This can’t be real.
Her mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. 'Maybe she’s a friend. Maybe she’s a colleague. Maybe…'
But no.
Her gut instinct screamed hard.
This wasn’t a friend.
And the way he was looking at Miel—stiff, caught off guard, as if she was an unwanted ghost from his past—made it clear.
Before she could gather her thoughts, Ethan spoke, his voice calm, detached.
"Miel… why are you here?"
The words hit her like a slap.
'Why am I here?'
He was the one who invited her. Sent her that message. Gave her that time. 'Did he… forget?'
'No.' He was looking right at her, eyes dark with something unreadable.
Miel forced herself to move, one foot in front of the other, closing the distance between them. She held her head high, refusing to let him see how shattered she felt inside.
"Long time no see, Ethan," she said, keeping her tone even.
Ethan’s lips parted, but before he could speak, the woman beside him stood up gracefully. She walked toward Miel gracefully, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.
Then, with a smile so sweet it felt venomous, she said,
"You must be Sister Miel."
Miel’s breath hitched.
Her mind blanked.
'Sister…?'
The woman extended a hand, perfectly manicured nails catching the light.
"I’m Elina," she continued, her voice smooth and pleasant. "Ethan’s fiancée."
The words hit like a gunshot.
Miel’s heart stopped.
'Fiancée?'
'She is Ethan's Fiancée?!'
Elina kept speaking, completely unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the way Miel’s entire reality had just shattered.
"It’s so nice to finally meet you. He’s told me so much about you," she continued, her voice honeyed. "I’d be lucky to have a friend like you."
'Friend?'
So, That’s what I am now?'
Miel’s hands trembled at her sides.
The ground beneath her felt unsteady.
Slowly, she turned to Ethan. As if her eyes were screaming hard and begging for answers.
'Tell me this isn’t true.'
'Tell me this is a joke.'
'Tell me—anything.'
But Ethan just sat there. Silent.
Expressionless.
That was all the answer she needed.
Elina hesitated before retracting her hand, a knowing look flashing in her eyes.
Ethan finally stood, exhaling slowly.
Without sparing Miel a glance, he slipped off his coat and draped it over Elina’s shoulders.
His voice softened. "Eli, it’s getting cold. You shouldn’t stay out too long. It wouldn’t be good for our baby."
Miel felt the ground disappear beneath her.
'Baby...'
'Their baby.'
Elina stroked her belly, lowering her gaze with a soft smile. But beneath that serene expression, there was something sharp. Something intentional.
But Miel saw it—the glint of victory in her eyes.
She wanted Miel to know.
To see it.
To feel it.
Miel’s nails dug into her palms.
This isn’t happening.
This can’t be happening.
This wasn’t a prank.
This wasn’t some misunderstanding.
This was real.
Elina leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Ethan’s cheek before stepping away. "I’ll be at the hotel," she murmured before walking off, her figure disappearing through the restaurant doors.
Leaving only Miel.
And Ethan.
The man she once thought she knew.
The man she once loved.
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, his face unreadable. Whatever guilt had flickered in his eyes earlier was gone now, erased as if it had never existed.
"Miel, let’s talk. Sit down," he said like this was some casual conversation.
Miel wanted to laugh.
'Talk?'
What was there to talk about?
About how he had lied to her?
About how he built a whole new life behind her back?
But despite the rage boiling in her veins, despite the voice in her head telling her to walk away, she sat.
Because she needed to hear it from him.
She sat.
Across from him.
The same way Elina had.
The chair felt ice cold.
Ethan took his seat across from her, watching her with that same distant expression. Like he was looking at a puzzle he no longer cared to solve.
But Miel was trying to find out the c***k in Ethan's expression.
Ethan looked the same, yet different. More refined, more polished. It was as if the rough edges of the man she once loved had been smoothed out, leaving behind a version of him she didn’t recognize.
A stranger.
"Before we started dating, we were best friends," Miel began, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "We promised each other—no secrets. So tell me, Ethan, why didn’t you tell me about your fiancée?" She inhaled sharply. "And don’t you dare say this was some kind of a joke."
Ethan hesitated.
For a moment, just a second, something flickered in his eyes—guilt? Regret?
Then it vanished.
Like it had never been there at all.
"It’s not a joke, Miel." His voice was quiet. Final. "Elina and I… we’re engaged. And we’re expecting a child."
- Writer
