CHAPTER ONE —DECISION
I slowed just past the entrance, my hand lingering on the door.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” I asked, pulling at the dress Lydia had made me wear. It fit well, but it didn’t feel like me. Too soft. Too fitted. Too noticeable. Beside me, Lydia didn’t even look sorry.
“Because,” she said, showing her invite to the guard like she owned the building, “you’ve been buried in your books for months, and I refuse to watch you turn into a robot.”
I exhaled. “So your solution is this?”
“Yes.”
“This?” I repeated, glancing around. “A place where people probably spend my school fees on one dinner?”
She smiled. “Exactly.”
I gave her a look. “This is not normal.”
“It’s just a party.”
“No,” I said quietly. “It’s not.”
She didn’t give me time to argue again.
One second I was still thinking about leaving, the next she was pulling me inside like if she let go, I’d run.
“I’m serious,” I said, trying to pull my hand back. “I don’t belong here.”
“You’ve said that three times already.”
“And I mean it every time.”
She glanced at me. “You worry too much.”
“That’s because I like my life simple.”
“This is simple,” she said. “Stand. Smile. Drink something.”
I let out a breath. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
My words trailed off, and I stopped.
Around me, conversations stayed low, contained within small circles. No raised voices, no awkward pauses, no one standing alone long enough to look it.
Everyone seemed to know where to be.
I shifted my weight slightly, adjusting my grip on the glass, smoothing my hand down the side of my dress.
“Relax,” Lydia said. “Nobody is looking at you.”
“That’s not true,” I replied. “And if they do, they’ll know I don’t belong here.”
She shook her head. “You think too much.”
Maybe.
I picked up a drink from a tray passing by and took a small sip, just to keep my hands busy. A laugh nearby stopped halfway.
Someone turned, then another.
I frowned. “Lydia…”
She followed my gaze, and went still.
“Oh.”
My chest tightened. “What?”
“Don’t look,” she said quickly.
That was enough reason to. “Why?”
“Just don’t.”
I turned anyway.
He had just walked in, and though I didn’t know him, something in the room shifted around him. No one rushed, no one openly stared, yet space seemed to open in his wake, attention trailing after him in quick, careful glances that disappeared just as fast. Controlled. Deliberate.
He moved through it like it all belonged to him.
I watched longer than I should have before finally looking away.
“Let’s go,” Lydia said, her grip tightening on my arm.
“We just got here.”
“We’re leaving.”
“You’re the one who brought me.”
“And I’m saying we should go.”
A faint curve tugged at my lips. “You’re acting strange.”
“I’m serious.”
I studied her face, but nothing gave.
Beyond her, he had moved deeper into the room, speaking to someone, listening more than talking, never lingering—quiet, controlled.
“Five minutes,” I said.
Lydia didn’t argue this time.
My brows drew together as I turned slightly, trying to settle into the room. The music pulsed, glasses clinked, voices stayed low, but none of it held. My attention kept slipping.
He wasn’t where I last saw him. My gaze moved across the room once, then again, slower this time. Nothing.
I looked down at my drink, jaw tightening. “This is pointless,” I muttered. “I’m leaving.”
“Okay,” Lydia said quickly. “Let’s...”
“Enjoying the evening?”
The voice came from behind me. Low. Close. I turned.
He was nearer than he should have been.
For a second, I said nothing.
“I…” I gave a small nod. “It’s okay.”
His gaze didn’t move. “For someone who’s okay,” he said, “you don’t sound convinced.”
“I just got here.”
“That explains it.”
A slight crease formed between my brows. “Explains what?”
His gaze held mine a beat longer than necessary. “You still look like you’re deciding whether to stay.”
Lydia shifted beside me. I ignored it.
“Maybe I am.”
He nodded once. The silence stretched, brief but deliberate.
“I’ll be right there,” Lydia said suddenly, already stepping back.
“Lydia...” She was gone.
I turned back. “You scared her.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He didn’t argue. That, more than anything, settled.
“Are you leaving?” he asked.
I hesitated. “I was.”
“And now?”
I met his gaze. “I’m not sure.”
He held it a second longer.
“Stay.”
Just that. I should have said no.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll regret leaving too early.”
The corner of my mouth lifted before I could stop it. “You sound very sure.”
“I am.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then you can leave.”
That was it. I glanced around the room. Nothing had changed, but it didn’t feel the same anymore.
“…Fine.”
His expression didn’t shift, but something settled in his eyes—quiet, certain.
My chest tightened.
