Twisted Vows, Hidden Desire

The soft hum of classical music floated through the air, blending with the gentle clinking of cutlery against porcelain plates. The restaurant was a vision of luxury — warm golden lights cast a soft glow over the sleek marble floor. The air buzzed with quiet conversations, laughter, and the faint pop of wine bottles being opened.

Amelia sat at a table near the large glass window, the city lights twinkling behind her like distant stars. She tapped her fingers lightly on the edge of the table, her gaze darting to the entrance every few seconds. She hated waiting, especially for something she didn't want to do in the first place.

Her black cocktail dress hugged her figure modestly, paired with silver earrings and a matching bracelet. She glanced down at the table setting — white napkins folded into perfect triangles, a crystal glass of water already filled, and a candle flickering softly between her and the empty chair.

This feels like a setup for a romantic date, she thought bitterly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. But this wasn't a date — at least, not the kind she wanted.

Her eyes shifted toward the entrance again. This time, she spotted him. Ethan Blake.

He strode in with a calm confidence that seemed effortless. His dark blue suit was sharp but not overdone, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, giving him a laid-back edge. His eyes scanned the room before locking onto hers. He gave a brief nod and walked toward her.

"Sorry I'm late," Ethan said, pulling out the chair across from her and settling in. His eyes met hers, sincere but guarded. "Traffic was worse than I expected."

"No worries," Amelia replied, her tone polite but distant. "I wasn't in a rush to be here either."

A small grin tugged at Ethan's lips as he leaned back in his chair. "Fair enough."

The waiter approached with menus, placing one in front of each of them. "Good evening. Would you like anything to drink to start?"

"Just water for me," Amelia said, her eyes still on Ethan.

"Same here," Ethan added, handing the menu a brief glance.

The waiter nodded, retreating quietly.

Silence settled over them like a heavy fog. Ethan flipped open the menu, his eyes scanning the pages, but Amelia wasn't in the mood to pretend. She placed her menu down and folded her arms.

"Look," she said firmly, her eyes locking with his. "We both know why we're here, so let's just be honest with each other."

Ethan glanced up, his brows raising slightly. "Honest, huh?" He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes sharp but not unkind. "Alright. Honesty it is."

Amelia tilted her head. "Our parents want us to get married. We don't."

"Correct," Ethan replied, nodding once.

"And from the way you're sitting there looking like you'd rather be anywhere else, I'm guessing you already have someone you care about," Amelia said, her gaze unwavering.

Ethan's jaw tightened for a moment before he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. Her name's Claire."

The name hung in the air for a moment, and Amelia nodded slowly. "Does she know about all this?"

"She does," Ethan admitted, his gaze shifting to the flickering candlelight between them. "I told her everything. She wasn't happy about it." He let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. "She's not taking my calls anymore."

"That's rough," Amelia said, her voice soft but not pitying. "She must love you a lot."

"Yeah," Ethan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I love her too." His eyes lifted to meet Amelia's again, his gaze steady but tired. "That's the truth."

Amelia nodded, tapping her fingers on the table. "Well, at least you're honest about it. Most people would try to pretend everything's fine."

"Pretending's not my thing," Ethan replied. "What about you? Got someone waiting for you?"

"Nope," Amelia said, leaning back in her chair. "Single and happy about it — or at least I was until my parents decided to play matchmaker."

Ethan chuckled, a genuine laugh this time. "Lucky you. At least you don't have to deal with guilt on top of everything else."

"Trust me, it's not as lucky as it sounds," Amelia replied, shaking her head. "Being single is peaceful, but it also means people think something's 'missing' from your life. That's why my mom's been on this marriage crusade." She glanced out the window, watching the distant glow of city lights. "She thinks marriage will 'complete me.'" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Classic mom logic," Ethan said, rolling his eyes. "My mom's the same. She says I'm 'not getting any younger.' I'm thirty.

"Exactly!" Amelia said, her eyes lighting up in shared frustration. "It's like they think we're defective just because we don't fit into their timeline."

"Couldn't have said it better," Ethan replied, raising his glass of water as if to toast.

Amelia raised her glass too, a small smirk on her face. "To meddling parents and their outdated timelines."

"To that," Ethan agreed, clinking his glass with hers.

They both took sips, setting their glasses down.

"Alright," Ethan said, his eyes more serious now. "Since we're being honest, let's figure out how we're going to handle this."

"Handle it?" Amelia raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, our parents aren't going to stop," Ethan explained. "They'll keep pushing until we give them what they want — a wedding. But we don't have to give it to them the way they expect."

Amelia blinked, leaning forward. "What are you suggesting?"

Ethan leaned in too, his eyes sharp but filled with resolve. "We play along. We give them the illusion they want. They'll think we're getting along, maybe even falling in love. But behind closed doors, we're still in control."

Her eyes narrowed. "You mean fake it?"

"Exactly," Ethan said. "We fake it. At least for now. It buys us time. We figure out the exit strategy later."

Amelia frowned, her mind turning the idea over. It wasn't the worst plan. Fighting their parents head-on would be a losing battle. But playing along… that gave them room to maneuver.

"So, we're partners in this?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Partners," Ethan agreed, extending his hand across the table. "We watch each other's backs. No secrets. No betrayals."

Amelia stared at his hand for a moment. It was risky. But wasn't everything about this situation risky? She reached out and shook his hand firmly.

"Partners," she said, sealing the deal.

They sat there for a moment, their hands still clasped together. Two strangers bound by obligation but now united by strategy.

As they released their grip, Ethan leaned back with a small smirk. "I think this is the first time I've actually felt in control since this whole thing started."

"Same," Amelia replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. "At least now, we have a plan."

The waiter returned, ready to take their orders. Ethan glanced at Amelia, tilting his head. "What are you getting?"

"I'll have the grilled salmon," she said, closing her menu.

"Make that two," Ethan added, handing his menu to the waiter.

The waiter nodded and disappeared.

As they sat in comfortable silence, Amelia glanced at Ethan. "By the way, if this is supposed to be a 'date,' you're a terrible date."

Ethan snorted. "I could say the same about you."

"Touché," she said, laughing softly.

For the first time that night, the weight on her chest didn't feel so heavy. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.