The morning after the dinner, Keigh woke before dawn, not because of habit, though years of discipline made that easy, but because his mind refused to rest.
He'd dreamt of her.
Not vividly, not in color or sound, but in fragments, her laughter over candlelight, the way she'd said You have no idea what you're getting into, that half-teasing, half-guarded tone that left his heart tangled somewhere between hope and uncertainty.
He sat at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair.
You did the right thing, he told himself. You were honest and yet honesty came with its own kind of chaos.
By the time he reached the office, the city was barely awake. The air smelled of rain, the sky still pale with the promise of morning. He liked it that way, the quiet before everything demanded his attention. But even as he settled into his chair, his focus slipped back to her.
He opened his phone, saw her message again.
> "Complicated things usually are the ones that end up meaning something."
He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. It was exactly the kind of thing she'd say, thoughtful, careful, but brave in its own way.
For the first time in a while, something in his chest felt lighter.
That lightness lasted until his intercom buzzed.
"Sir, your mother is on line one."
He sighed softly and leaned back. "Put her through."
The moment her voice came through, the air shifted, refined, commanding, with that edge of affection that always felt conditional.
"Keigh, darling. You remember the anniversary is this weekend?"
"Yes," he said carefully. "I've been working on the arrangements."
"I trust you'll make it memorable," she said. "Your father insists it must reflect our family's legacy. Oh, and Fiona will be joining us, she's been such a delight lately."
The mention of Fiona made his jaw tighten. "That's… generous of her."
"She admires you, you know," his mother continued. "She's been asking a lot about the business, about how you manage everything. You could do worse than a woman like that, Keigh."
He closed his eyes briefly, pressing his fingers against his temple. "Mother...."
"I'm not saying you must decide now," she interrupted, the way she always did when she wanted the last word. "But your father and I have discussed it. It's time you started thinking seriously about your future. About settling down with someone who understands our world."
There it was. The weight again.
He could almost hear his father in the background, the unspoken authority behind every word.
"Understood," he said finally, though his tone was distant.
"Good. We'll see you Sunday."
The call ended with a soft click, but the silence it left behind felt heavy.
Keigh sat there for a long moment, staring at nothing.
He wasn't angry, not exactly. Just… tired. Tired of being told who he should be, what he should want.
But then his eyes fell on his phone again, on Nara's message, still glowing faintly on the screen.
He read it once more, slowly this time, as if the words themselves could steady him.
Complicated things usually are the ones that end up meaning something.
He smiled faintly. Maybe she was right. Maybe the chaos was worth it.
Because for the first time, he wanted something that wasn't chosen for him.
Someone.