Author's note: For the best experience, I recommend searching for the song "Blizu" on Youtube and playing it while you read this chapter. It's the song Anamarija is describing, and it perfectly captures the heart of this moment.
Vikran walked in like sunlight didn't need permission.
He was in an unusually good mood — relaxed shoulders, easy grin, that effortless confidence he carried when he wasn't trying to impress anyone.
"Why does it feel like I walked into a fashion week rehearsal?" he laughed, stepping further inside.
Then he actually looked at us.
Really looked.
Pim in light pink dress.
Amara in red dress.
Non in cream.
Kit in emerald.
Taeng in embroidered sky blue.
Chak in mint green that caught the chandelier light like liquid silk.
And me.
Dusty rose blooming across my chest.
Vikran blinked once.
Twice.
"…Okay," he said slowly, turning in a full circle. "What exactly is happening here?"
Non crossed his arms dramatically.
"Ask your girlfriend."
The word landed.
Girlfriend.
It didn't feel mocking.
It felt intentional.
Vikran frowned slightly. "My what—"
And then—
Everything changed.
Silence moved first.
Then every head in the room turned toward the staircase.
I turned too.
And my breath stalled.
Anamarija stood at the top.
White.
Not bridal white.
Not soft.
The gown was sculpted to her frame, structured and commanding. And from the lower half upward, colors bloomed like controlled fire — crimson, sapphire, gold, emerald — brushstrokes rising across the fabric as if art itself had refused to stay silent.
She didn't look like someone attending a wedding.
She looked like someone rewriting it.
The room went completely still.
Even Non didn't speak.
Vikran didn't move.
At first.
His entire expression changed.
The playful energy dissolved.
His smile faded into something quieter.
Deeper.
Not shock.
Not lust.
Not ego.
Awe.
Pure and unfiltered.
I felt Chak beside me shift slightly, but not in tension.
He was watching Vikran.
Measuring.
Vikran stepped forward slowly.
Like he didn't want to break the moment.
"What…" he exhaled softly, almost to himself.
Then louder.
"Wow."
Anamarija began descending the stairs.
Unhurried.
Each step deliberate.
The colors on her dress moved with her, catching light, alive.
Vikran reached the base of the staircase before she reached the last step.
He didn't rush her.
Didn't touch her.
He just stood there, looking up at her like she was something rare and entirely unexpected.
"You look…" he started, then stopped, shaking his head slightly as if language wasn't enough.
"Unbelievable."
She tilted her head just slightly.
"Is that good?"
He laughed softly, almost breathless. "It's dangerous."
Her lips curved faintly.
Behind me, Non muttered under his breath, "Yeah. He's gone."
And he wasn't wrong.
Vikran didn't look like a man flirting.
He looked like a man who had already fallen.
And for the first time—
It didn't feel chaotic.
It felt aligned.
The colors.
The suits.
The statement.
The timing.
This wasn't accidental.
This was Anamarija's move.
And Vikran had just walked straight into it — smiling.
Vikran was still looking at her like the world had narrowed to a single point.
And that point was Anamarija.
She reached the last step.
Stopped in front of him.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke.
Then she smiled — not teasing, not guarded.
Warm.
"You came at the perfect time," she told him.
Vikran blinked, still caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. "Did I miss something?"
Her eyes flickered briefly toward Chak.
Then back to him.
"You'll see."
I felt something tighten in my chest.
That tone.
That calm certainty.
Chak stepped slightly closer. "Why?" he asked her quietly.
She didn't hesitate.
"We're going to the garden."
The room shifted.
No one argued.
No one questioned.
We followed.
Before stepping toward the balcony doors, Anamarija paused beside the console table.
My heart stuttered when I saw what she reached for.
The bouquet.
The one Chak had given me. In the yacht.
Her fingers wrapped around the stems gently.
She looked at me for half a second.
Not asking permission.
Just acknowledging.
And I nodded.
The balcony doors opened.
Cool evening air brushed against my skin as we stepped outside.
The garden lights were already on — warm gold along the stone path, soft illumination over the flowerbeds.
We walked until we reached the rose bushes near the center.
We stopped there.
A small circle.
Close.
Private.
Anamarija stepped forward and turned to face us.
The bouquet rested against her hip.
Her voice, when she spoke, was steady.
"Tomorrow," she said, "Chak will marry someone he doesn't love."
The words cut through the night air.
Even though we all knew it.
Hearing it aloud made it real.
My chest tightened painfully.
Chak didn't interrupt.
He just stood there.
Still.
Present.
"Today," she continued, "he will marry the person he love."
Silence.
I forgot how to breathe.
Chak's head snapped toward her slightly. "What?"
But she wasn't looking at him.
She was looking at me.
Then—
Chak and I looked at each other.
And everything in that glance felt exposed.
Fear.
Hope.
History.
Promise.
My pulse was loud in my ears.
Anamarija lifted the bouquet slowly between us.
"This wedding may not be official for the rest of the world," she said softly, "but for us — for those gathered here — it will be."
I swallowed.
The garden suddenly felt too small for what was happening.
Vikran stood very still.
Taeng's eyes were wide, but shining.
Kit looked like he had just realized the scale of her mind.
Non didn't joke.
Not this time.
"And it won't be just one wedding," Anamarija added.
She turned slightly.
"Two."
My heart stopped.
"Chak and Niran."
My name in her voice felt unreal.
Then she looked at Taeng.
"And Kit and Taeng."
Taeng inhaled sharply.
Kit actually laughed once in disbelief — then fell silent when he realized she wasn't joking.
Chak looked at her again.
"You're serious," he said quietly.
"Yes."
The night felt electric.
"We don't have rings," she continued. "Unfortunately."
A faint smile curved her lips.
"But one day, you will. When the real wedding happens."
Not if.
When.
My throat burned.
Chak stepped closer to me without thinking.
Close enough that our shoulders brushed.
I could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of my suit.
This was insane.
This was reckless.
This was beautiful.
My mind screamed about consequences.
About tomorrow.
About cameras.
About expectations.
But my heart—
My heart was calm.
Because he was beside me.
And for once, we weren't hiding.
The bouquet shifted in Anamarija's hands.
"Tonight," she said softly, "you choose each other. In front of us."
The garden lights flickered slightly in the breeze.
I looked at Chak.
Not the heir.
Not the son.
Not the future husband of someone else.
Just him.
And he looked back at me like the world had narrowed again.
To a single point.
And this time—
It wasn't Anamarija.
It was us.
Anamarija stood in front of us, the garden lights glowing softly behind her.
She looked at both of us carefully.
"Are you okay with this?" she asked.
Not dramatic.
Not playful.
Serious.
The kind of serious that settles into your bones.
Chak turned to me.
And for a moment the world disappeared.
No garden.
No family.
No tomorrow.
Just his eyes.
I expected tension.
Conflict.
Fear.
Instead—
I saw calm.
A quiet, unwavering peace.
Like he had already made this choice long ago.
He didn't speak.
He just nodded once.
And somehow that single movement felt heavier than any vow.
I nodded back.
When we both looked at Anamarija again, her eyes were shining.
Not with tears.
With pride.
"Guests," she said, clapping her hands softly, "please line up."
Non immediately straightened.
Kit rolled his shoulders dramatically but obeyed.
Taeng looked overwhelmed and glowing at the same time.
"Bridesmaids, come here," she said, gesturing to Amara and Pim.
Then she pointed at Kit and Taeng.
"You two. Stand beside them."
They exchanged a look — half panic, half disbelief — but moved into place.
Anamarija took command of the space like she had been born for it.
"Chak, come here."
He stepped forward without hesitation.
"Niran," she said, walking toward me and placing the bouquet into my hands. "Take this. Go to the beginning of the path."
"When I say now," she continued softly, "start walking."
She stepped back and pulled out her phone.
A second later—
Music.
Soft.
Gentle.
A melody I didn't recognize.
A voice began to sing.
I had no idea what language it was.
I didn't understand the words.
But I felt them.
The tone was warm. Intimate. Almost like a whisper carried by wind.
"Now," she said.
And I started walking.
Slowly.
Each step deliberate.
The garden lights blurred slightly as my pulse quickened.
Butterflies.
Real, violent butterflies in my stomach.
Excitement flooded me so suddenly it felt like adrenaline in my veins.
This was insane.
This was unreal.
And yet—
It felt right.
I saw Anamarija quietly mouthing the lyrics, her eyes never leaving us.
When I finally reached Chak, I stopped in front of him.
Close.
Too close.
Not close enough.
I looked into his eyes.
And what I saw there—
Pride.
Not possession.
Not fear.
Pride.
He glanced at Anamarija, who smiled at us softly.
Then he looked back at her.
"What are they singing about?" he asked.
Anamarija's voice softened.
"It's about finding peace with the right person."
The melody swelled slightly.
"It says that no matter how many roads you've taken… how many turns, how many wrong directions… all the searching ends when you finally find the one you were looking for."
The air felt still.
She stepped closer.
"It says that just being near that person is enough. Feeling their breath. Their warmth. That no one is perfect… and love is what matters."
Her eyes flickered between us.
"And that if you had one last embrace in this life… you would give it to the person you love."
My throat tightened.
I looked at Chak.
"This is our love," I said quietly. "It's not perfect. But it's real."
His gaze softened in a way that still undid me every time.
"You're right," he answered.
Then he looked at Anamarija again.
"Is there an English version?"
She shook her head gently.
"Unfortunately, no."
A small smile touched her lips.
"But when the real wedding happens, I promise you… they will sing it live."
Her voice grew steady again.
"And it will be in English."
Not if.
When.
The word wrapped around my heart like certainty.
The music continued to play softly between us.
And standing there, in a garden that was never meant to witness something like this
I realized something.
Tomorrow might belong to obligation.
But tonight—
Belonged to us.
The music slowly faded.
That soft silence remained in the air — the kind that only comes after something beautiful.
Anamarija stepped a little closer.
She looked at Chak first.
Then at me.
"Chak," she said calmly, "do you accept Niran… here, in front of us, as the person you choose. Not because of duty. Not because of expectations. But because of love."
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.
Chak never took his eyes off me.
"I do," he said.
No hesitation.
No looking away.
No lowered voice.
Just truth.
Anamarija turned to me.
"Niran… do you accept Chak. Not as a boss. Not as a name. But as a man. With all his fears, responsibilities, and flaws."
The air caught in my lungs.
I saw tomorrow.
I saw the cameras.
I saw the pain.
But then I looked at him.
And I saw peace.
"I do," I whispered.
And I had never been more certain in my life.
Anamarija took a deep breath.
Then she looked at everyone around us.
"Today," she said softly, "in front of witnesses who know the truth… I declare you chosen by each other."
Vikran exhaled quietly.
Taeng covered his mouth.
For the first time, Non stood completely serious.
Amara and Pim were crying softly.
Anamarija looked at Chak.
She smiled.
And said:
"Chak… you may kiss your groom."
And in that moment—
her voice broke.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
She tried to smile, but she couldn't hold back the emotion.
She wasn't crying loudly.
Just quietly.
Like someone who had just witnessed something she had been waiting for her entire life.
Chak paused for a second.
His eyes softened when he looked at her.
Then he turned back to me.
His hand slowly rose to my face.
Warm.
Steady.
Like he was anchoring me to this moment.
His thumb brushed gently against my cheekbone.
"Never," he whispered so softly only I could hear him, "will I choose you out of duty."
And then—
he kissed me.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Not to prove anything.
But slow.
Deep.
Like a promise.
Somewhere behind us, I heard a choked breath.
Someone started clapping.
I think it was Kit.
Taeng was openly crying.
Vikran wiped his eyes, even though he tried to keep his composure.
But me—
I held onto Chak like the world would fall apart if I let him go.
And for those few seconds…
the world was exactly as it should have been.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.
We were both still catching our breath.
Anamarija wiped her tears.
"And," she said, trying to bring lightness back into her voice, "that was the first wedding."
She turned slightly.
"The other two… ready?"
And in that moment, I knew—
the night wasn't over yet.
For a few seconds, there was no tomorrow.
No cameras.
No expectations.
No arranged future waiting like a shadow behind us.
Just him.
Just us.
His breathing was uneven, but his eyes… his eyes were steady.
Certain.
I could still feel his lips on mine when I heard a small, broken sound.
I turned.
Anamarija.
She was trying to keep her composure, but tears were streaming down her cheeks now. Not dramatic. Not loud. Just quiet, unstoppable tears.
And then I saw Vikran move.
He didn't hesitate.
He stepped toward her with that soft smile of his — the one he only shows when something truly matters. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded handkerchief.
"Hey…" he murmured gently.
He handed it to her first, but when she didn't immediately take it, he carefully lifted his hand and wiped the tear from her cheek himself.
Slowly.
Tenderly.
Like she was something fragile and precious.
"Don't cry," he whispered. "You did something beautiful."
Anamarija let out a small, shaky laugh.
"These are happy tears," she said, though her voice was still trembling.
Vikran smiled at her like she had just placed the entire sky in his hands.
And in that moment… I understood.
He wasn't just infatuated.
He was already gone.
Completely in love.
Chak followed my gaze and saw it too. For a brief second, something protective — almost approving — crossed his face.
Anamarija inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself.
"Okay," she said, brushing the last tears away, though Vikran was still holding the handkerchief near her cheek as if he wasn't ready to step back. "That concludes the first wedding."
A soft laugh moved through our small crowd.
She looked at Kit and Taeng.
"Second couple," she announced, her voice regaining its confident tone. "Are you ready?"
But before they could answer, Chak's fingers intertwined with mine again.
I squeezed his hand.
This wasn't official.
The world wouldn't recognize it.
Tomorrow he would stand beside someone he didn't love.
But tonight—
He chose me.
And everyone here saw it.
And for the first time since all of this began…
I wasn't afraid.