The next few days passed in a blur.
Between fitting appointments, quiet dinners, and her mother's hovering presence, Lena felt like she was floating outside of herself—trapped in a slow-motion freefall she couldn't stop. Her calendar had mysteriously cleared of any non-family obligations, no doubt Kelly's doing on her mother's orders. Lena hadn't even argued. What was the point?
She spent most of her time in her suite at the family estate, going through the motions—skimming the designer profiles for the wedding prep, letting stylists drape fabrics over her without protest, nodding blankly at florists' vision boards. It was as if her life had turned into a high-budget production she was starring in against her will.
Still, she wasn't entirely alone in it.
Skye visited whenever she could, always sneaking in something to distract Lena—magazines, old photo albums, once even a bottle of champagne. And Ethan had been oddly present too, dropping by under the guise of business meetings with her father, but always managing to check in on her. Their conversations were light, sometimes playful, sometimes deeper than expected. But neither of them mentioned the arrangement. Not yet.
On Thursday morning, Lena sat alone in the garden, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands and a silk robe draped loosely around her. The air was cool and the estate grounds were quiet, save for the gentle hum of bees among the roses.
She closed her eyes and let the stillness settle over her—until footsteps crunched across the gravel.
"Didn't think I'd find you this early," Ethan said casually, appearing at her side with two coffees in hand. He held one out to her. "Figured you might need a stronger one."
Lena gave him a sideways glance but accepted it. "What are you doing here?"
"Business," he said, sitting across from her. "But let's not pretend that's the only reason."
Lena raised an eyebrow. "You're checking on me again."
"I'm keeping score," he said, smirking. "You've gone quiet."
She exhaled. "I've been quiet because everything feels like it's closing in. And because if I say one wrong thing, it'll be turned into another decision made for me."
Ethan studied her for a moment. "You ever think about doing something reckless?"
Lena tilted her head. "Define reckless."
He grinned. "I'll let you decide. But when you figure it out, let me know. I'm in."
She actually laughed. It was the first real one in days.
And maybe, just maybe, that laugh was a sign—one that told her the version of herself who'd been silent for so long was finally ready to speak again.
Lena leaned back in her chair, the laughter fading into a soft smile as she looked at Ethan over the rim of her coffee cup. "Reckless sounds tempting," she murmured. "But right now, I'd settle for honest."
Ethan tilted his head. "Honest how?"
"Like telling my parents I don't want to be forced into anything. Like admitting that I'm still not over someone, and I don't even know if I want to be. Like saying I'm not ready to be who they want me to be." Her voice was quiet but steady. "I don't even know if I want to get married at all."
Ethan didn't flinch. He nodded slowly, then looked out toward the horizon. "You're allowed to feel that way, Lena. You should be allowed to choose."
She looked at him, her eyes searching. "And you? Would you choose it? If you had a way out?"
There was a beat of silence before Ethan answered, voice low. "I'd choose freedom. Every time."
Lena nodded. That was the thing—they were both caught in a game written by people who'd never asked what they wanted in the first place.
Just then, Skye's voice rang out from across the garden. "You two brooding lovebirds done plotting a revolution yet?"
Lena turned to see her best friend making her way over, sunglasses on, holding a croissant in each hand like offerings. She plopped down beside Lena and handed one over with zero grace.
"Breakfast diplomacy," Skye declared. "Can't go to war on an empty stomach."
Ethan chuckled and leaned back, the mood lightening. "You know, for someone not technically part of this family, you sure act like it."
"That's because I'm the only one who actually says what everyone's thinking," Skye said with a shrug. "And right now, I'm thinking Lena needs a day off. Or a distraction. Or a plan."
Lena bit into the croissant, grateful for the small comforts. "You're right. I can't keep floating like this. I need to figure something out before they drag me into fittings and cake tastings and—God forbid—guest lists."
Skye leaned in, eyes gleaming. "So let's make a plan. Something just for you. Something they don't control."
Ethan glanced at Lena. "Say the word."
Lena looked between the two people who had shown up for her more than anyone else lately. Her pulse quickened—not with fear, but with something close to resolve.
"Okay," she said. "Let's do something they don't see coming."
And in that moment, with sunlight filtering through the leaves and the city quietly stirring in the distance, Lena knew that she was done playing the perfect daughter. She wasn't sure what came next—but for once, it would be on her terms.
The rest of the morning unfolded in soft, unhurried moments. The three of them lingered in the garden longer than they'd intended, the warm breeze weaving through conversations that danced between light teasing and quiet revelations.
Skye sprawled on the lounge chair, sunglasses perched at the tip of her nose. "Okay, but hear me out—what if we disappear for a weekend? Like actually vanish. Somewhere off the grid. No phones, no family, no expectations."
Lena raised an eyebrow. "And where exactly do you plan on dragging us?"
"Anywhere that doesn't scream obligation," Skye replied with a grin. "Maybe a beach house. You, me, Ethan—just pure escape. Pretend the world doesn't exist for 48 hours."
Ethan gave a small, amused snort. "That sounds dangerously appealing."
Lena let the idea settle in her mind. She could picture it—bare feet in the sand, salty air, no pressure to wear a mask. Just herself, stripped of all the roles she was forced to play.
"I might actually say yes to that," she said, surprising herself.
Skye lit up. "That's it then. I'm planning it. No take-backs."
Lena laughed, shaking her head, but a tiny part of her clung to the idea. Maybe she needed that break more than she thought.
Eventually, the sun crept higher in the sky, and reality began knocking again. Ethan checked his phone, frowning slightly. "I've got to head out. Board meeting in an hour."
Lena stood as he did. "Thanks for this morning. I mean it."
He gave her a meaningful look. "Anytime. And hey… whatever happens next, just remember—you're not in this alone."
Skye and Lena watched him walk off toward the driveway, where his sleek car waited at the curb.
"He's getting more charming by the hour," Skye murmured, nudging Lena.
Lena rolled her eyes. "Don't start."
Skye smirked. "I'm just saying. If you have to fake marry someone, at least he's got decent cheekbones and listens to you."
Lena gave her a dry look. "You're impossible."
But the banter was a comfort, a thread pulling her back to herself. And as the morning faded into afternoon, the uneasy weight of the conversation with her parents hadn't disappeared—but it had grown quieter, manageable. Because she had her people. And soon, she'd have her plan.
This story wasn't over. In fact, it might be just beginning.
•
Lena stepped back onto the rooftop, blinking against the brightness. Skye looked up from her phone and immediately stood, sensing something had shifted.
"Well?" she asked gently.
"They've set a date," Lena said, her voice quieter than usual. "Next week. A lunch meeting with the family I'm apparently going to marry into."
Skye blinked. "They really aren't wasting time, huh?"
Lena gave a hollow laugh. "Not even a little. I don't even know who they are. I'm just supposed to show up and smile."
Skye crossed her arms. "You okay?"
"No," Lena admitted. "But I'm used to that by now."
They stood in silence for a moment, the soft hum of the city filling in the space between them.
Skye finally spoke, her voice calm but firm. "Then let's take today. Just for us. You and me. We'll eat something indulgent, maybe browse overpriced candles, pretend we're not part of a dynasty for a few hours."
Lena gave a small, tired smile. "Yeah. That sounds perfect."
And so they did. The day turned into one of their best in weeks—brunch at a quiet café with mimosas and waffles, window shopping through quaint little stores, and laughter that came easier than expected. The weight of expectations didn't disappear, but for a while, Lena could breathe.
She wasn't just the Sterling heiress being arranged into marriage.
She was still Lena.
•
Later that afternoon, Lena and Skye wandered through a sun-drenched street lined with boutiques and cafés, their steps unhurried. Lena had swapped her heels for flats and tucked her oversized sunglasses over tired eyes, grateful for a moment of anonymity.
They dipped into a minimalist concept store, the kind that sold everything from artisan candles to leather-bound notebooks that no one ever really wrote in. Skye held up a silk scarf patterned with tiny celestial symbols and gave Lena a look.
"For when you feel like hexing your family," she teased.
Lena chuckled, taking it from her. "Tempting."
They left the shop with two candles, a scarf, and iced lattes in hand, strolling toward a small park nearby. The air was warm, the city unusually calm for a weekday. Lena let her shoulders relax for the first time in days.
As they sat on a bench under the shade of a tree, Skye finally asked, "Do you think you'll go through with it?"
Lena took a sip of her drink, staring out at the fountain. "I don't know. A part of me wants to fight it. But another part… I'm just tired, Skye."
Skye didn't push. She simply nodded and rested her head on Lena's shoulder. "Then we'll figure it out when you're ready. But not alone."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy—it was comforting. Lena wasn't okay, not yet. But in that moment, with Skye beside her and the sun warming her skin, she felt a little steadier.
And for today, that was enough.
The park slowly filled as the afternoon wore on—families with strollers, couples walking dogs, even a street performer strumming an acoustic guitar near the fountain. It was the kind of day that made you want to pause everything else. Lena welcomed the stillness.
"I used to come here with Kelly when we were younger," Lena murmured, watching a little girl chase bubbles. "Before life became… curated."
Skye glanced at her. "Curated. You really are your mother's daughter."
Lena laughed lightly, nudging her. "Ugh, don't curse me like that."
They both went quiet again, their thoughts traveling separate roads. Lena's mind drifted back to the call, to the way her mother's voice had sounded—sharp and efficient, like she was checking a box. There hadn't been a trace of emotion, not even hesitation. As if marrying her off was just the next logical step in Lena's predetermined future.
"What if I don't show up next week?" Lena said suddenly, her tone flat.
Skye blinked. "To the meeting?"
"Yeah."
"Then they'll probably send someone to drag you there in couture and pearls," Skye replied dryly. "But seriously… would you? Not show?"
Lena was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. I think I just need to feel like I'm still the one making the choice. Even if I'm walking into something I didn't ask for."
Skye shifted to face her more directly. "Then make them work for it. Walk in on your terms. Let them think you're playing the part, but keep your mind sharp. You're not a pawn, Lena. Not unless you decide to be."
Lena looked at her friend—really looked—and felt a wave of gratitude so strong it nearly brought tears to her eyes. Skye didn't sugarcoat. She didn't pity. She reminded Lena of who she was, even when Lena forgot.
"God, what would I do without you?"
"Probably marry a trust fund baby without blinking," Skye deadpanned.
Lena snorted. "You're the worst."
"I try."
The sun began dipping lower, casting a honey-gold hue across the grass. Lena leaned back against the bench and sighed. "I don't want to lose myself in all this, Skye. I've worked so hard to build something that's mine. This book, my independence... I just—if I give in to this marriage, even temporarily, I'm afraid I'll disappear into their plan."
Skye reached over and took her hand. "Then don't disappear. Stay messy. Stay you. If you're going to walk through fire, you better damn well bring your own torch."
They sat there until the sun finally dipped past the skyline, and the streetlights flickered on. Lena's phone buzzed again—this time a calendar reminder from Kelly, gently flagging a meeting for the following day.
Lena turned to Skye with a sigh. "Back to reality?"
Skye finished the last sip of her coffee and stood. "For now. But remember—we get to decide what our version of reality looks like."
Lena stood beside her, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. "Let's go home. I need a bath, and maybe a drink."
"Bubble bath and whiskey. Very Lena Sterling."
They walked back to the car, their laughter trailing behind them like echoes of something beautiful and real. Lena knew she wasn't out of the storm yet—not even close—but as long as Skye was in her corner, she felt ready to face whatever came next.