Mikael froze, his hands tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned a ghostly white. The question felt like a physical weight in the small cabin of the SUV. He shook his head frantically, as if trying to physically dislodge the idea.
"Believe me, Ken, I have no idea about that. I don't have a wife, and I am certainly not engaged. My mother... she might be trying to chase you away. I would never cheat on you, bae. Never."
Ken stared out the window at the passing streetlights. "Wait. She doesn't like me? Is it because I'm a guy, or is it my financial status?"
Mikael went silent. The truth was a bitter pill he didn't want to force Ken to swallow. His mother valued lineage and social standing above all else; to her, love was a luxury for people who didn't have empires to run. She viewed Ken as a double-threat: a "distraction" without a dowry and a "dead end" for the Newman bloodline.
Mikael wanted to lie. He wanted to tell Ken that everything was fine, that his mother was just eccentric. But the ground beneath them was already cracked. Another lie would turn those cracks into a canyon.
"It's both," Mikael muttered, the admission feeling like a defeat.
"I see..." Ken replied. He didn't press further, and his quietness made Mikael panic. Silence from Ken was often more terrifying than an argument.
After a long, agonizing wait, Ken finally spoke. "It's alright. I understand." He turned his head to look Mikael in the eye. "But you need to stop running from your past. If you have truly moved on from her, then facing her should not be this difficult. But if you still have an emotional connection... then that's going to be a problem."
Ken took a breath and continued, his voice steady. "I need to know where I stand, Mikael. I will not be an 'option' or a replacement. You need to know where your heart lies. Whether it's guilt, fear, or love—you need to figure this out."
Mikael stared at the road, Ken's words ringing true. He was a prisoner to a girl who had been gone for six years. If he wanted a future with Ken, he had to stop being afraid of the "ghost" across the street.
"You're right," Mikael whispered. "I can't keep running. If this is going to work, I need to be certain. If it's alright with you... can I have this week off? I promise I'll confront it next week. I just need a few days to understand what's wrong with me. Please... just this week."
Ken studied him for a moment before nodding. "Alright. You have this week."
"Thanks, bae," Mikael breathed, a small weight lifting from his chest.
"I'm almost late for work, Mikael," Ken reminded him.
"Right! Let me take you there. Sorry again for the unnecessary stress." Mikael kicked the engine into gear and drove toward the bar. When they pulled up, he watched Ken get out. "I'll call you later," he called out. Ken gave a brief, sharp nod and disappeared into the club.
As Mikael drove away, the walls felt like they were closing in again. Why is everything happening so fast? I finally felt whole, and now the version of me I worked so hard to build is shattering.
The week went by in a blur. Mikael stayed away from campus, using the time to isolate and mentally steel himself for the inevitable meeting with Emily.
On Saturday morning, Ken and Amy headed to Laura's home. When Ken rang the bell, Laura practically exploded through the door.
"You guys made it!" she cheered, pulling them into a fierce hug. She was dressed for the occasion in a blue sunflower-print sundress. They loaded her bags into the car—Ken in the back, Amy in the front—and set off.
They reached South Beach by mid-morning. The Saturday sun beat down on the crowded shore, turning the sand into a blinding sheet of white. Colorful umbrellas sprouted like mushrooms across the coast, shielding families lugging heavy coolers and plastic buckets through the heat. A group of teenagers tossed a football near the surf, their shouts lost to the rhythmic crash of the Atlantic. The air was a thick mix of coconut sunscreen and salty spray.
Amy, Laura, and Ken stripped down to their swimwear and dove into the crowd. From playing spikeball to building lopsided sandcastles, the trio spent the day in a bubble of pure friendship. Eventually, they retreated under a large umbrella Laura had packed.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Amy asked, squinting at the clear blue horizon.
"Yeah, it is," Ken replied, leaning back on his elbows. "I wish we had the chance to do this more often."
"Yeah!" Amy and Laura agreed.
"But it's sad," Laura muttered, her voice trailing off. "I'm really going to miss you guys. It's... it's hard."
"You finally got your dream, Laura," Ken said gently. "You shouldn't be sad about that."
"I'm not sad about the school. I'm just afraid of starting over. Leaving my friends behind... it's scary to think I have to build a new life somewhere else."
"It'll be hard at first," Amy encouraged, "but you're great at making friends. You'll find your people in no time."
"You have too much faith in me," Laura sighed. "It's not that easy."
"For you? It'll be a breeze," Ken teased. "After all, you're a professional at gossip. That's a universal language."
Laura's jaw dropped. "Why do I feel like you're being sarcastic? Are you mocking me?"
"I wouldn't dare," Ken said, a giggle escaping his lips.
"You're definitely mocking me!" Laura yelled, a playful grin spreading across her face.
"Kenny!"
She grabbed a beach ball and scrambled up, chasing Ken as he took off toward the surf. Amy stayed behind, her laughter ringing out across the sand as she watched Ken dodge and weave through the crowds.
While Ken was at the beach, Mikael decided he couldn't stay locked in his room any longer. He needed to feel normal. He drove to the local mall to do some grocery shopping. Usually, the maids handled the pantry, but Mikael liked the mindless routine of the supermarket.
The mall was a sanctuary of climate-controlled air. Escalators glided silently, carrying shoppers toward bright storefronts. The air smelled of expensive perfume and the buttery warmth of fresh pretzels from the food court.
"I missed this," Mikael whispered to himself, grabbing a cart. He moved through the aisles, picking out chocolates, snacks, and fruit juices. He made sure to grab Michelle's favorites, feeling a small sense of peace in the simple task.
He eventually pushed his cart to the checkout, handing his card to the cashier as the items were bagged.
"Mikael?"
The voice came from directly behind him, low and questioning. Mikael froze. Every muscle in his body locked tight. He slowly turned around, his eyes traveling up from a pair of sandals to a bright green dress with a delicate flower pattern.
His eyes finally met hers.
It was Emily.