Chapter 5: Fate at Fingertips
1050 Words
Jared King never backed down from a business deal.
He faced boardrooms filled with billion-peso decisions and negotiated like a man twice his age. He had modeled for international brands, led charity foundations, and was named Asia’s Most Eligible Bachelor three years in a row.
But none of that prepared him for his mother.
“So, when are you going to meet her?” Mrs. King asked again over breakfast, casually slicing her mango like it wasn’t the twelfth time she’d brought up the topic this week.
Jared groaned. “Mom—”
“She’s a lovely girl! A respectable family, not a social climber. We’ve known them for years, and you’re not getting any younger.”
“I’m twenty-nine.”
“Exactly. Almost thirty. Time flies.” She popped a piece of mango into her mouth. “This isn’t just about marriage, Jared. It’s about legacy. Partnership. Stability.”
“And what about love?”
Mrs. King waved her hand like she was swatting a fly. “Love can grow. Besides, you’re too picky. You can’t keep dating women you meet through ad campaigns and expect something long-term.”
“Maybe I want to choose who I marry.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had twenty-nine years to choose. You didn’t. So now we help.”
And just like that — he was trapped.
A few days later, both families gathered at a private estate in Tagaytay, overlooking the misty hills and pine trees. It was the kind of setup only families like theirs could afford — long table, fine china, and the smell of expensive coffee in the air.
Jared arrived first with his parents, all dressed in their Sunday best.
“Now, be respectful,” his mother whispered as the other car pulled up. “This is the start of your future.”
Jared forced a polite smile. The last 24 hours had been a blur. He couldn’t stop thinking about her — the woman from the restaurant. The music. The sadness in her eyes. The picture. The old news article.
And now, here he was, about to meet a complete stranger he was supposed to marry.
He stood as the other family entered — polite smiles, formal greetings. They looked elegant and familiar, and Jared offered a respectful bow to the parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Cortez,” he said warmly. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
“Likewise, Jared,” Zenobia’s father replied. “We’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”
Jared chuckled. “All lies, I’m sure.”
They laughed politely. Introductions were made, hands were shaken — but someone was missing.
“Where is your daughter?” Mrs. King asked, glancing at the door.
“She’s on her way,” Mrs. Cortez said, smiling. “She got a little… sidetracked. She’s been adjusting since she came home from New York.”
Jared tuned them out for a second. His fingers unconsciously tapped against his leg, heart pacing faster than usual. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt nervous.
Then the door opened.
And time stopped.
There she was.
The girl.
The girl from the restaurant. The pianist. The woman whose face he had been staring at just the night before on his screen — the one who played sadness like it was a song meant only for him.
She walked in slowly, politely smiling at everyone, clearly unaware of the thunderstorm she’d just brought into Jared’s chest.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said gently. “I—”
“Zenobia,” her mother said, motioning toward her. “This is Jared King.”
She turned toward him.
Their eyes met.
He stood up instinctively, completely forgetting what formality even looked like. His breath caught.
It’s her.
She walked closer, offered her hand.
“Hi,” she said with that soft, composed tone. “Zenobia Cortez.”
He shook her hand — and didn’t let go.
Zenobia raised an eyebrow. “You can let go now,” she teased gently, pulling her hand slightly.
He blinked, snapped out of it, and finally loosened his grip, offering a slightly embarrassed smile.
Mrs. King, ever the icebreaker, clapped her hands. “Zenobia, dear, your mother tells me you play piano. Would you play for us? Just a short piece. I’ve always admired women with musical grace.”
Zenobia hesitated.
Jared stepped in. “Please. I’d love to hear you play again.”
She looked at him, confused.
“Again?”
He cleared his throat. “I mean… I overheard someone say you used to play at a restaurant once. I just meant… I’ve heard you’re talented.”
Zenobia blinked, amused. “Right. Sure.”
She walked over to the grand piano set near the dining area — her fingers hovering for just a second before pressing the first note.
The room went silent.
And once again, Jared was transported.
Her music wasn’t just sound — it was a feeling. Her sadness, her strength, the weight she carried in her heart — it flowed through every note like a secret only she knew.
When she finished, the room erupted in claps and praises.
But Jared?
He only had one thought in mind.
This is her.
The woman he had been searching for. The one who haunted his thoughts. The one whose pain mirrored his longing.
As she returned to the table and took the seat beside him, Jared turned toward her slowly.
“Zenobia,” he said quietly, leaning in. “I know this might sound insane…”
She glanced at him, curious. “What?”
He swallowed hard.
“Will you marry me?”
She froze.
“What?”
“I know we’re supposed to get to know each other first. But I don’t want to wait. I don’t care about the past. I don’t care about the arrangement. I just know…” he looked into her stunned eyes, “…you’re the one I’ve been looking for.”
The room was quiet again — the parents caught off guard, the moment heavy and charged.
Zenobia stared at him, heart racing.
And for the first time in a long time…
She didn’t know if she should run —
or if she was finally ready to stop running.
- Writer
