Ken froze. He had steeled himself to face the polite, neutral face of the butler he had met the previous day, but instead, the heavy oak door was opened by a woman who radiated an icy, polished authority. Mikael's mother stood before him.
"Yes? How may I help you?" she asked. Her voice was like velvet pulled over sharpened steel.
"I... I... hello... ma'am. I... am Ken," he stammered, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He forced himself to take a breath and stand taller. "I came to see Mikael. He wasn't well yesterday and I drove him home. I just wanted to see if he's okay."
"Oh... alright, come in," she said, stepping aside with a practiced, porcelain smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Ken stepped into the foyer, and the sheer scale of the wealth hit him like a physical force. Everything in the apartment screamed opulence. From the deep-pile rugs to the avant-garde art on the walls, it was a place dripping in gold and legacy.
I didn't know Mikael was this rich, Ken thought as a maid gestured for him to sit. Sure, he spends a lot, but this is beyond what I imagined. No wonder his way of showing love is through spending. This kind of wealth... it doesn't build character; it builds walls.
Sara Newman sat opposite him, her posture perfect. "Coffee or water?"
"Oh... either would be fine," Ken replied, his hands resting awkwardly on his knees.
A few moments later, the maid returned with two glasses of water. Ken took a sip, trying to settle his nerves, when Sara delivered the first strike.
"So tell me, what is your relationship with my son?"
Ken choked on the water, coughing into his hand as he tried to compose himself.
"Is there a problem?" Sara asked, her eyes narrow and knowing.
"I'm... sorry, I didn't see that coming," Ken said, clearing his throat. "We... we are close friends."
"How close?" she asked instantly, her voice sharpening. "Last I checked, you are not in the same level, nor are you the same age. So, how did you become 'close friends,' and exactly how close are you?"
Ken felt the walls closing in. He was in the middle of an interrogation he hadn't prepared for. He realized in that moment how little he knew about Mikael's dynamic with his parents. He had never asked if they would approve. He had never asked if he was a secret.
But then, he remembered the vow he had made to himself: No more secrets. If he wasn't Mikael's boyfriend in front of the world, then the relationship was a lie. He took a deep, steadying breath.
"Very close," Ken replied, meeting her gaze. "In fact, I'm his boyfriend."
The house went deathly quiet. Lilian, the maid who had been dusting a nearby vase, froze in place. Standing up to Sara Newman was something few people dared to do.
"His boyfriend... I see," Sara replied. Her voice dropped an octave, and suddenly, the cold mask shifted into a warm, inviting smile. "Why didn't you say so sooner? I'm Sara Newman. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ken." She reached out for a handshake.
Ken instinctively took her hand, returning the gesture. He was baffled by the sudden shift in her demeanor, but he decided to play along, hoping the peace was real. "If it's fine with you, I'd like to see Mikael before I head to school. I have classes soon, but I was hoping to see him this morning."
"Oh, surely," she replied, turning to the maid. "Lilian, escort Mr. Ken to Mikael's room."
"Yes, ma'am," Lilian replied.
The hallway to Mikael's wing was a gallery of wealth. When they entered the bedroom, Ken was speechless. His entire apartment could have fit into this room three times over. It wasn't just a bedroom; it was a sanctuary of high-end tech and designer furniture.
Mikael was still asleep, buried under a mountain of expensive sheets. The family doctor had checked on him earlier, leaving him in a medicated slumber. Ken sat on the edge of a chair near the bed, his eyes scanning the room. He caught sight of a small frame on the bedside table. It was the photo of them on the roller coaster. Mikael looked radiant with joy, and Ken realized that even in this palace, the thing Mikael kept closest to his heart was a memory of a simple date.
So much has happened since that day, Ken thought, his heart aching. He didn't want to wake him, so he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Mikael's forehead. He reached into his bag and pulled out the teddy bear Mikael had won for him at the park. He tucked it next to the pillow with a small note: "Get well soon, bae."
He stood up and left the room, his mind already drifting toward his upcoming lectures. As he passed through the living room, he offered a polite nod to Sara.
"Ken."
Her voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned around, hoping the encounter was over.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"You said you are Mikael's boyfriend, correct?" she said, standing up from the couch. Her "warm" smile had vanished, replaced by a look of clinical detachment. Ken's heart began to race.
"Yes, ma'am," he responded.
"I do not have a problem with who you date, Ken," she said, walking toward him. "But as a mother, I want what is best for my child. And sadly, you are not the one for him."
Ken felt the air leave the room.
"My son is the heir to the Newman estate," she continued, her voice cold and resonant. "You are asking to end our bloodline. He deserves to be with a woman—someone who can give him an heir and keep the Newman name running. You, Ken, cannot do that."
The words hit Ken like a physical blow to the chest. But the final strike was yet to come.
"You can keep playing your fantasy romance for now," she said, returning to her seat with the elegance of a queen. "But you should know he already has a woman in his life. When the time is right, he will marry, and he will have children. That is his future. You can decide to stick around until then, but the choice is yours."
Ken stood there, dumbfounded and broken. He didn't know if she was lying to protect her interests or if Mikael had been leading a double life. He walked out of the apartment like a man in a trance, feeling like a rat drenched in freezing rain.
Is it an arranged marriage? Is there a bride? Am I just a temporary distraction? He walked aimlessly, his mind a chaotic whirl of doubt. He thought of Mikael's panic attack. Was it triggered by the "other woman"? He thought of Emily, the new student. Her reaction to him being Mikael's boyfriend had been so visceral.
Does Emily know him? Is she the bride? Does his mother know her?
He was so lost in the spiral of his own thoughts that he didn't realize he had wandered near the edge of the road until a sharp horn blasted nearby. A sleek, black car pulled up beside him. The window slid down with a silent, mechanical hum.
"Are you lost? You seem confused... are you going my way?"
Ken peered inside, his mind snapping back to reality. Sitting behind the wheel was the one person who always seemed to appear when the world was falling apart. It was Lucien.