Hearts by schedule

Reunion at heart on schedule

Setting: Bangkok, "Heart on Schedule" HQ — a modern office with glass walls, orchids in vases, and a signature pink neon sign that says “Love, but Make it Legendary.” It’s mid-morning. A meeting room with iced matcha, guest folders, and wedding mood boards.

Art and Apple are seated across a long white conference table, flipping through curated garden wedding themes — riverside elegance, modern tropical, royal Thai fusion.

The coordinator walks in with the lead designer for the meeting.

Arcon Mahra.

Time doesn’t stop, but for a moment, Art forgets how to breathe.

He looks… the same. No. Sharper. Grounded. His suit is classic black, his presence unmistakable. He pauses briefly when he sees Art — a blink of recognition, a flicker of old fire — then slides effortlessly into professional mode.

> “Mr. Kapoor, Ms. Apple. I’m Arcon Mahra. Lead planner for your event. I’ll be taking over now.”

Apple blinks, tilts her head curiously between them. “You two know each other?”

Art hesitates. “We’ve... crossed paths.”

Arcon’s smile is polite but guarded. “A long time ago. Shall we?”

They go over venue styles, budget tiers, music, colors.

Arcon’s voice is smooth, composed — almost surgical in how he steers the conversation away from emotion.

But Art isn’t listening to the numbers. He’s watching Arcon’s hands. His eyes. The way he still folds one corner of the paper before making a point.

> “...and if you’re considering an evening ceremony, the golden hour garden at River Pearl Estate would be ideal. Soft lighting, fireflies, and the backdrop is made for vows.”

Apple leans in. “Sounds dreamy. But one thing—”

Both men look at her.

She smiles sweetly. “Art and I are easygoing. He trusts me. I trust him. Except one thing.”

Arcon raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Apple’s eyes twinkle. “My wedding dress. No suggestions, no peeking, no themes. I picked it. Alone.”

She holds up a finger. “Non-negotiable.”

Art laughs. “Fair.”

Arcon nods, amused. “Spoken like someone who knows exactly what she wants.”

Apple’s tone shifts — curious, observant. “Not always. But when I do… I don’t let go.”

She looks between the two of them for a fraction of a second too long.

Art clears his throat. “So… garden wedding it is?”

Arcon stands, clicking his pen. “I’ll have the preliminary designs sent over. Congratulations again.”

As he turns to leave, Art says — low, under his breath — “You still do this?”

Arcon pauses at the door. “Do what?”

“Disappear before the room gets real.”

Arcon looks back, just once.

> “I’ve learned not to stay in rooms that don’t belong to me anymore.”

And he’s gone.