Chapter 3: The Weight of Promises
The kitchen was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. Lavender could still feel Rhydian's presence crowding her in, his arms braced on either side of her. The question, where would they live, still hung in the air between them, heavy and unyielding.
She took a slow breath, finally breaking the silence. "If we're going to get married, and we're supposed to... become one, then we should make our own space." Her voice was steady, but her fingers trembled against the counter. "Not your place, not mine. Ours. We should buy one together."
Rhydian's eyes softened, a flicker of surprise passing through them. But before he could speak, she continued, her words tumbling out faster, sharper.
"To answer the other things you asked earlier..." She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip. "About marriage... I don't know if I want it."
His expression tightened.
She pushed on, forcing herself to be honest. "I want it because I know you. Because we grew up together, because you've always been there, even when you weren't physically here, you were still... you." She hesitated, searching for words that didn't exist. "But I don't want it because I don't know you. Not really. And I'm not in love with you."
The air grew colder between them.
"I love you," she said quickly, her chest aching at the truth. "I always have. But I'm not in love with you."
For the first time, his confidence cracked. His mouth parted, but no words came.
Lavender shifted her gaze, unable to look at him. "As for kids... no. Not for the first five to ten years. Maybe I'll change my mind, maybe I won't. But right now, I don't want them. I want to figure out who I am before I figure out how to raise someone else."
Her words lingered, sharp and fragile all at once.
Rhydian studied her for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Thank you for telling me the truth."
The way he said it made her chest ache even more.
By morning, the estate was alive with voices. Both families had gathered in the grand sitting room, excitement buzzing like static. Lavender sat on the edge of a velvet sofa, still exhausted, her hair pulled into a messy knot. Rhydian lounged beside her, calm as ever, while their parents fired plans back and forth like weapons.
"Six weeks," her mother declared. "That's more than enough time. The venue can be booked, the invitations sent."
"No." Lavender's voice cut through the chatter, firmer than she expected. All eyes turned toward her.
Her father frowned. "Darling, you don't want to lose momentum. Everyone is expecting."
"I said no," she repeated, straighter now, her shoulders squared. Her pulse thudded in her ears, but she didn't waver. "Six weeks is impossible. We don't even know each other properly yet."
Her mother blinked. "You've known him your whole life."
"That's different," Lavender shot back. "Knowing someone as a child isn't the same as knowing them as a partner. I need time. We need time."
A tense silence stretched across the room. Rhydian didn't move, didn't speak. He just watched her, unreadable again.
Lavender inhaled deeply, steadying her voice. "Eight months. That's what I'll give you. Not less."
Their parents exchanged glances, whispers rising like smoke. At last, her father sighed, rubbing his temples. "Eight months."
Her mother pursed her lips, clearly displeased, but said nothing.
The decision settled over the room like a gavel's strike.
Later, when the crowd had thinned and the noise of planning had dulled to murmurs in the halls, Lavender found herself sitting with Rhydian in the library. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the air.
He leaned against a desk, arms crossed, studying her. "Eight months," he said quietly.
She met his gaze, unflinching. "I meant it."
"I know you did." He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "You surprised them."
"Good." She folded her arms. "I'm not a child anymore. I don't want to be rushed into something just because they think it's convenient."
Something like pride flickered across his face. "Flower, you've always had fire in you."
Lavender rolled her eyes, but the compliment warmed her anyway.
Silence stretched, not uncomfortable this time. Then his voice dropped, steady and certain. "I have to leave soon."
Her stomach sank. "Leave? Where?"
"Work." His tone was matter-of-fact, but his eyes never left hers. "It'll take me across the world. Different countries, different cities. I don't know how long each trip will last."
She stared at him, caught between panic and curiosity. "So what does that mean for us?"
He unfolded his arms, stepping closer. "It means you have a choice. Instead of us buying a place right now, you could come with me. Travel with me. See the world while I work."
Her breath caught.
"You wouldn't have to come to meetings. You'd have your own time, your own space. You could keep building your business. And when I'm done with work, we could explore. Together." His voice softened, low and persuasive. "I'd take care of everything."
Lavender's mind spun. Her startup. Her freedom. Her future. And now... this?
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
But her silence was enough to make the moment hang heavy, balanced on a knife's edge.
End of Chapter 3