Even if the chances were slim—even if they were close to zero—George wanted to be prepared. He had always been a man who stayed ahead of the game, who didn’t wait for life to happen but instead took action.
That’s why, without hesitation, he found himself standing in front of his family’s estate, knocking firmly on the grand oak door.
As the butler let him in, the familiar scent of home filled his senses—warm, elegant, and just slightly nostalgic. He stepped inside the grand dining hall, where his parents were already seated for dinner. His father, always composed, set down his wine glass, while his mother, with her usual warmth, turned to him with a smile.
But before he could speak, his mother sighed softly. “George… We’re sorry.”
His father nodded in agreement. “For not always being there. For being too caught up in business to guide you properly.”
George looked at them for a moment before stepping forward. Instead of responding with words, he leaned down and pressed a brief kiss on both their foreheads—a rare moment of affection.
“Don’t apologize,” he said simply. “I understand.”
As they all settled into their seats, George finally voiced the reason for his visit.
“I’m still not sure,” he admitted, fingers tapping lightly on the table. “But I’m waiting. And if she decides—” He exhaled slowly, steadying himself before continuing, “Mom, Dad… will you go with me? To speak with her parents?”
His mother’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but there was no hesitation in her nod. His father, always the pragmatic one, studied him for a moment before responding, “You’ve thought this through?”
George chuckled lightly. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”
There was a moment of silence before his father smirked. “Then we’ll go. Just say the word.”
A small weight lifted from George’s chest.
But that wasn’t the only thing he had prepared.
Vivian, for the first time in a long while, felt something unfamiliar—defeat.
She sat alone in her car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as her mind raced. The confident smirk she always carried was nowhere to be found. Instead, a quiet, almost bitter realization settled in her chest.
With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and dialed Daniel.
The call barely rang twice before he picked up. “Well, well,” Daniel’s amused voice came through. “Let me guess—you lost?”
Vivian scoffed, but there was no real fire behind it. She leaned back against the seat, staring blankly at the city lights outside her window. “Why did you only let me meet him now?” she muttered, her voice uncharacteristically subdued.
Daniel chuckled knowingly. “Because I knew you’d react like this.”
Vivian exhaled sharply, her grip tightening on the phone. “I saw it, Daniel. His sincerity.” She closed her eyes briefly, recalling the small details—how George looked at Eliana, the way he spoke, the gifts that carried more meaning than just material value. “It was in his eyes. In everything he did.”
There was a pause before she continued, her voice dropping slightly. “I envy her.”
Daniel hummed thoughtfully. “So, you’re giving up?”
Vivian let out a small laugh—one filled with resignation. “I won’t pursue a losing battle,” she admitted. “Eliana already won the moment he looked at her like that.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Then, in a softer tone, she added, “But yes… George is really a great guy.”
Daniel didn’t tease her this time. He simply listened.
Vivian sighed again, running a hand through her hair. “You know, I was surprised. A lot of the stories I heard about him before… they don’t match who he is now.”
“Oh?” Daniel said, intrigued.
“He was arrogant, boastful—always acting like the world revolved around him,” Vivian mused. “That’s the version of George I expected to see. That’s why I copied it—because I thought that was what made him untouchable.”
She chuckled bitterly, shaking her head. “But I was too late to realize… that wasn’t what made him special.”
In the quiet hours of the night, when he was alone with his thoughts, he had taken it a step further.
He had personally designed a custom engagement ring—simple yet elegant, something that wasn’t just a symbol of wealth but of thoughtfulness.
Inside the band, a short inscription was engraved—words meant only for them:
"Our hearts, our future—always in sync."
It wasn’t a confession. It wasn’t a demand.
It was a promise.
A promise that if Eliana ever chose him—if she ever decided to take that step—he would be ready.
As Eliana sat by her window, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across her room, memories began to surface—memories she had tried to push aside but could no longer ignore.
She remembered the days when both she and Vivian were constantly by George’s side, a strange and unspoken battle between them. But even then, despite the chaos, George’s attention had always found its way back to her.
Then, she recalled his thoughts.
"What if I was gone?"
The words echoed in her mind, and a cold, hollow feeling settled in her chest.
She had asked for time—needed space to think. But now, as she flipped through the worn pages of her old diary, reading the emotions she had written down in moments of uncertainty, a deep, painful realization struck her.
Was she wasting the time she had?
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached the last page she had written, a passage filled with hesitation, doubts, and longing. The pain in her heart swelled, pressing against her ribs, making it harder to breathe.
Without another second of hesitation, she grabbed her phone and dialed.
Her fingers clenched around the device as it rang. Each second felt like an eternity.
"Pick up, George…