I Borrowed His Ring, He Borrowed My Heart

Bieber Weaverly’s POV I paced anxiously in my exquisitely decorated law office at Harrington, Pembroke & Associates at Kensington, London with my phone in hand, as my long-time friend, Alexander McQueen’s name lit up the screen for the eighth time in just ten minutes. He always knew how to push when he wanted something. Recently, that something was me. But not as i had once hoped in school when we first met at Wycliffe College but in a way that felt too intense… uncomfortably intense, reckless, and it seemed like it might turn my life upside down. Eventually, i picked up. “Bie.” That nickname. No one ever called me anything asides my full name: Bieber but Alexander had always liked to call me fondly no matter how many times I told him not to. Not that I meant it though, I was simply being hypocritical. I've had a major crush on him since college days but he never saw me in the same way. His voice was low and steady, a stark contrast to the turmoil he had brought into my life in the past few days as he called again. “Bie? I’ll be waiting in your apartment when you return from work today.” I hesitated, taken aback. “Xander, I have plans with Michael for dinner. Besides, you don't even have a key to my apartment.” “Cancel on Michael. As for the keys, you don't have to worry about it. I'll sort myself out.” I halted mid-pace. “What?” “Yes, you should. Unless you want your knight in shining armor c*m Senator-in-Training, Michael Reed and I running into each other at your door.” There was a pause before he added, “I’m sure I don't need to tell you how that will go, right?” Although I can't see him, I can literally picture a smug grin across his face. I groaned, fully aware of the likely disaster. Michael and Alexander had always been like competing storms. Because of me, they didn't like each other's guts. And with election season approaching, Michael had no room for scandal. A fight over me would be catastrophic for him. Still, I protested. “But I can’t just cancel at the last minute.” “Yes, you can,” he insisted gently. “You’ve done it before.” My heart raced, heat rising to my face. He was right. If I could go behind Michael and fake an engagement with Alexander a few days after accepting Michael's ring, I do not have the moral standard to pretend to be a good partner to Michael. But ever since that weekend at Alexander's cabin in Lake District when I agreed to the ridiculous plan of faking an engagement with him, even though I had gotten engaged to Michael a few days prior to it, Alexander had changed. He used to be so carefree with me since our days in school, there was never an awkward moment between us. Untill now. He was now more attentive, more unpredictable and it left me feeling like I am walking on shaky ground. Nevertheless, I tried to sound like I was still the rational young woman I used to be. “Xander,” I said, “I am engaged. To another man. Please remember that.” “But you're engaged to me as well.” “Xander!” My tone is one of genuinely incredulity as I chided him. Him of all people knew why I had to do it. He sighed, frustration mixed with something deeper that I didn’t dare to analyze. “Okay! I get it. I was only kidding. But for tonight, just trust me, okay? Please?” It was his request to trust him that hit me the hardest. It always did. Before I could rethink my decision, I called Michael with an excuse that felt weak: Headache. Aspirin. Early bed. Michael offered to bring soup and tea and even suggested tucking me in. But I laughed awkwardly, declined his offer, and hung up, feeling a knot in my stomach. Now standing at my apartment door, I took a slow breath before stepping inside. Alexander McQueen's POV Everything was set, yet I felt extremely anxious. I had sprinted around frantically to find a ring i liked, visit my favorite gourmet grocery store, and persuaded Bieber's doorman to let me into her apartment. "I'm her fiancé," I'd said, somewhat shyly. After showing him the ring, i was granted access without fuss. Dinner was now going smoothly, and everything seemed perfect. I had prepared a simple fettuccine Alfredo, one of her favorite meals, and had also brought a salad, wine, and a two-layer chocolate cake adorned with fresh fall flowers. To finish off the presentation, i placed the ring box carefully among the flowers. The last time I felt this nervous about a date was when i was nineteen, on a date with a twenty-two-year-old cheerleading captain. I had been so anxious that i nearly hit her with the car door while opening it for her. But I couldn’t dwell on past relationships right now. The woman i cared about now was about to arrive, and I want to impress her. I lit candles on the oak coffee table and turned off the rest of the lights. Now, Bieber's living room was bathed in a romantic ambiance, enhanced by the twinkling lights of the London skyline visible through the window. "Very nice," I thought, just as i heard the door turn open. "Alexander, are you home? Why is it so dark in here?" She called out. After closing the door behind her, she reached for the light switch. Then— Click. The lights illuminated the room. "Oh, there you are." She glanced around at the candles and table setting before looking up at me, exclaiming, "Oh my God." "Do you like it?" I asked, sounding every but as anxious as I felt. She swallowed hard. "What is this for?" "It's for you, of course. I thought we should celebrate our engagement…. Although it's not a real engagement, but still… " I moved to take her coat and briefcase, but she jumped back the moment my hand touched her's. "Bie, what's wrong?" "Nothing," she replied, but her voice trembled, and her eyes were wide. Bieber had the most beautiful deep brown eyes that were almost black. They evoked images of darkness, mystery, and night. Why had I never noticed that before? Her thick black lashes accentuated the color, especially against her pale skin. She wore a dark suit paired with a white blouse. In any other context, her outfit might have appeared strict, but in the candlelight, she seemed to embody light and shadow. Shadows danced across her face, softening her features and blending into the whiteness of her throat where her blouse opened at the top button. I reached out to cup her cheek, gently brushing his thumb beneath her lashes. She was so still and quiet, so different from the Bieber I've known for several years. I yearned to kiss her. My lips ached with the need. With just a little momentum, i could pull her into my arms, press my lips to hers, and lose myself in her sweetness, her goodness, and her trust. I had never wanted anything more, and the intensity of that feeling unsettled me. However, despite the overwhelming attraction, I was determined to resist. Bieber was my friend, and she trusted me. How could I stand here, wanting her so intensely that it clenched my jaw? It felt like betrayal, like taking advantage of her trust and risking everything. I couldn't let this happen. Not with Bieber. Not after she agreed to do this big favour for the sake of my mother, who by the way wasn't one of her favorite persons. Quickly, i stepped back, reaching for her coat and briefcase. As i put her things in the closet, I tried to regain my composure. "It smells so wonderful in here. What are you cooking?" She asked, but I spoke up at the same moment, eager to break the silence. My question came on top of hers. "Do you want to change before we eat?" "Sure, I’ll go change," she said, just as i said, "Fettuccine Alfredo," in answer to the wrong question. "Fettuccine Alfredo is my favorite." "I know," i replied politely. We both laughed awkwardly. How could things feel so clumsy with Bie? That was what made our relationship so unique. The fact that there had never been an awkward moment between us. Until now.