Chapter Text
The soft click of the coffee machine filled the otherwise quiet apartment. Anya Forger, now 24 years old, sat at the kitchen counter, her legs tucked beneath her in a cozy sweater and jeans. The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting thin lines of light across the living room. Her apartment was small but comfortable, reflecting her personality in every corner.
Alex Mercer, her fiancé, stood by the stove, flipping pancakes with easy grace. He was easy going, thoughtful, and charming in his own way. Everything Anya had ever dreamed of in a partner. He had always been the calm to her chaos, the logical balance to her quirky, impulsive nature.
They had met at Berlin University, where she majored in psychology, as he pursued architecture. She still remembered the early days when he had shamelessly pursued her until she finally gave in and agreed to be his girlfriend. Years passed, and just three months ago, he had proposed. The news spread like wildfire through their circles, though it took some time for Anya’s parents to fully come around. But when you know, you know... right?
Still, lately, a shadow had fallen over their otherwise perfect romance.
The bills had piled up, and despite his best efforts, Alex had struggled to keep his architectural firm afloat. Anya had stepped in, contributing from her own career to help manage their finances, absorbing the anxiety that Alex worked so hard to hide. But no matter how much she worked, it never seemed like enough.
“I think I’m finally going to submit the design for the East Tower project today,” Alex said, his back still turned to her as he carefully stacked pancakes.
Anya’s smile faltered for a moment as her mind drifted. She knew the East Tower was a major opportunity, one that could turn Alex’s career around and secure their financial future.
“That sounds great!” Anya said, trying to sound supportive, but her voice came out a bit strained. She set her coffee cup down. “Do you have everything you need for it? You’ve been working late a lot lately…”
Alex finally turned around and gave her a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll get it. It’s just… you know, it’s been hard keeping the firm afloat. But I’m positive this project will turn things around. I’m sure of it.”
Anya looked at him, her heart swelling with pride, but also with an uncomfortable pang of doubt. He was trying so hard to be the man she needed him to be, but something in his tone sounded full of uncertainty.
“Alex…” she started softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure we’re okay? I mean… financially. I don’t want to pressure you, but it feels like things are so tight lately…”
Alex sighed, setting the spatula down on the counter and facing her fully. His brow furrowed with frustration at the weight of everything he was carrying. “Anya, I’ve got it under control. Just trust me a little longer. Once the East Tower project is secured, everything will fall into place.”
She wanted to believe him. She really did.
Later that afternoon, after Alex left her place for his meeting, Anya found herself scrolling through her phone, organizing her agenda to match her patients for the week. She was halfway through checking her emails when her screen lit up with an incoming call. It was Becky Blackbell, her best friend who, despite living on the other side of the country, always took the time to chat with Anya.
Anya smiled at the sight of Becky’s name. “Hey Becky,” Anya answered, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. “How’s everything going?”
Becky’s voice came through the phone, warm and familiar. “Oh, Anya, I have so much to tell you. Seriously, you won’t believe the mess I’ve gotten myself into…” Anya settled into her couch, wrapping a soft blanket around her legs. She was prepared for a long conversation. Becky had a tendency to talk a lot and Anya was more than happy to listen.
The conversation flowed from Becky’s job to her struggles decorating her room and finally to details about her newlywed life with Bill Watkins, who Anya also knew from Eden School.
“But you know… living the dream as usual,” Becky said with a hint of sarcasm. There was a small pause after that. “How about you?” she continued. “Still playing the perfect fiancé and psychotherapist? Sounds exhausting.”
Anya laughed weakly. “You know me too well.” She adjusted the phone a bit. “Honestly, I’m just trying to make sure Alex’s project works out. Things are a little tight right now.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Becky replied, her tone shifting to something more serious. “You’re really going through it, huh? I’ve been following Alex’s firm a little, and… things aren’t looking good. Seriously, Anya, you sound even more exhausted than the last time we spoke. Are you sure you want to keep putting all this pressure on yourself?”
Anya frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Becky’s voice softened. “I’m not blind, Anya. I know you love him, but… is he the right person for you? I get it. He’s charming and all but have you stopped to really think about your future?”
Anya was quiet for a moment. It was unlike Becky to sound this worried. She let her continue.
“You’re carrying everything right now and taking on the responsibility for both of you. And what’s he doing? He’s barely keeping his head above water. You deserve more than that.”
Anya felt a knot tighten in her chest. Becky always knew how to cut straight to the heart of the matter. She wasn’t blind to Alex’s struggles, but she had convinced herself that love and effort could overcome anything. Couldn’t they?
“I don’t know, Becky. I’m doing what I can. I believe in him… in us.”
Becky’s voice softened, but there was still a firm edge to it. “I know you do. But do you believe that yourself? Because I’ve seen you give everything to this relationship, and then some… and honestly, I don’t really see him do the same for you.”
Anya swallowed hard, her words hitting her deep. She had spent so much time trying to fix everything for Alex, trying to be the steady one. But when was the last time Alex had carried her, or even noticed how much she was struggling beneath the surface?
That wasn’t something she wanted to answer.
“I’m not saying you should just throw in the towel,” Becky added softly. “But you need to think about where this is going. Is this really the life you want? Or are you just settling because it’s familiar to you?”
The words hung in the air, and for a long moment, Anya didn’t know how to answer. She had inherited that drive from her father, thinking she could fix everything. But Becky’s words planted a seed of doubt.
“It’s just a hard time Becky, it won’t last long… I hope.” Anya said softly, the uncertainty creeping into her voice.
Becky’s tone softened. “Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to decide right now. But don’t lose yourself in someone else’s dream, Anya.”
Anya leaned back against the couch, the soft cushion comforting as the weight of Becky’s words pressed down on her chest. Becky’s voice was a reminder of the life Anya had almost forgotten before career and financial worries took over.
Becky’s next words cut through Anya’s thoughts with perfect precision. “And what about Damian?”
Anya stiffened at the mention of his name, her fingers tightening around the phone as if it could somehow stop the flood of memories.
“What about him?” Anya’s voice was casual, but inside, a storm began to brew. Of course, Becky would bring him up.
The dark haired girl wasn’t having any of it. Her tone was blunt, sharp, as though she knew exactly how to provoke Anya out of her usual guarded responses.
“You’re telling me you haven’t thought about him at all? Not once?” There was a long pause. “Don’t lie to me. You two had something going on for years, Anya. Even when you tried to convince everyone that it was just some childish rivalry.”
Anya sucked in a breath. She had tried so hard to bury those memories when Damian’s presence felt like a shadow she couldn’t outrun.
She remembered it all too well: the first time they met at Eden Academy when she punched the lights out of him at the tender age of six for being a complete asshole with her. The fierce rivalry, the constant sparring, the way his sharp gaze always seemed to follow her, whether she was acing a test or trying to hide in the back of the classroom.
“Damian…” she began slowly, her voice almost too soft. “It’s not like that anymore, Becky. He didn’t have that kind of feeling for me. Plus, I haven’t seen him since Eden.”
Damian was a prodigy even at that young age. Always smart, competitive, and an attitude that made him seem like an adult trapped in a child’s body. Most people wanted to get close to him mainly because of his family and contacts.
But Anya hadn’t been interested in his prestige or his family’s wealth like the rest, and with every year passing, she noted that he was so much more than his surname, how kind, how smart he really was and how much he cared about her even when his words said otherwise. She realized she had a crush on him that slowly became love. Sadly, Anya knew her feelings for the young scion were never reciprocated.
Becky snorted on the other end of the line, clearly not buying it.
“Come on Anya. With you two it was never just some childhood rivalry; it was painfully obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes he was madly in love with you. Even when Eden Academy was over. I saw it myself.”
The pinkette closed her eyes, the memory of Damian’s intense gaze from those days flashing before her. That look he used to give her when they were just kids like he wanted to challenge her, but also protect her, giving her the softest looks that made her question their friendship completely.
“Becky, that just isn’t truth,” Anya repeated, almost as if to convince herself. “Damian and I were never… right for each other. He was my rival, always bantering, trying to outdo me, always… testing me.”
Anya felt her heart race, and she could hear the tightness in her voice when she responded.
“You remember the day I was about to confess my feelings to him. Just when I was about to tell him everything he told me he wanted to follow his family wishes and that he didn’t have time for anything else in his life, not even love. It doesn’t matter, that was years ago, Becky. I’ve moved on. I’m with Alex now.” Her words sounded like an attempt at self-assurance,
Becky knew better than that. After so many years of friendship, she knew that Anya, deep down, was lying to herself. Her tone softened; her voice now tinged with something akin to concern. “You know I’m your friend, and I’m always going to want the best for you. But… you can’t ignore what’s happened with Damian.”
Anya blinked as the voice of Becky snapped her back to reality.
“I just want you to think about it,” Becky continued, her voice quieter now, more earnest. “Damian, he's not a kid anymore. He’s grown into someone who knows exactly what he wants. You’re not that little girl anymore either, Anya. You’ve got choices and I know you want to make it work with Alex,” Becky added softly. “But please if you’re not happy-”
Anya closed her eyes a bit annoyed at her best friend’s insistence. “I am perfectly happy with Alex, Becky. He is wonderful just the way it is. Please excuse me, I had to take care of some things. We'll talk later.”
Becky paused for a second before pressing further in the matter. “I am not questioning your decisions Anya, just want the best for you as my best friend okay? Whatever you choose, I'll be there for you.”
“Thank you Becky.” She said letting out a sigh of relief before ending the call.
Later that evening, Anya sat at the kitchen counter, the remnants of dinner cleared away, but the nagging questions refused to leave her. Is this the right thing? She started to question herself.
Her gaze drifted across the counter, landing on the glossy stack of wedding invitations Alex had brought home a couple of days ago. They were carefully arranged in a neat pile, still untouched by the reality that loomed over them. Her fingers tapped lightly on the edge of her coffee mug as the suffocating thoughts closed in.
Her phone buzzed again with a notification. A message from Becky.
‘Are you okay?’
Anya let out a long sigh and slid the phone back into her pocket, not ready to face the avalanche of emotions Becky’s words had triggered earlier. Her thoughts turned back to Damian, and she couldn’t shake the haunting images of their shared past. Could Becky be right? Had she truly buried those feelings deep inside her?
The door opened, followed by the familiar sound of Alex’s footsteps as he entered the apartment. His shoulders were slumped in exhaustion, the heavy burden of the day visible in the way he moved. He dropped his briefcase on the entryway table with a quiet thud, his face worn, eyes tired but still carrying that same determination that had first drawn Anya to him.
“Hey!” Anya said cheerfully. “How was the meeting?”
Alex gave her a small, tired smile as he toed off his shoes. He crossed the room slowly, feeling that the weight of what he was about to say was physically holding him back.
He sat down heavily on the couch beside her, resting his elbows on his knees, head hanging low. Anya’s smile faded a little, concern flickering across her face as she tucked her legs under her and turned toward him.
“It didn’t go as planned,” he said finally, his voice rough around the edges. He ran a hand through his hair, a habit Anya recognized he always did that when he was stressed. “They approved the project, which is a great deal, however, the investors that agreed to fund it in the first place decided to withdraw his proposal.”
Anya’s breath caught. She reached out instinctively, placing a gentle hand on his leg. Alex just stood in place taking his hands to his face.
“I’m so sorry, Alex,” she said softly.
“There’s one more thing,” Alex said, his voice low, as though he were working up the courage to speak. “I… I don’t have the capital to finish the project. Not on my own.”
Anya blinked, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. The East Tower project was supposed to be there to secure their future, to give them a sense of stability. And now… now it felt like the ground was slipping out from beneath her.
“What do you mean you don’t have the capital? How much money are we talking about?” she asked, though she feared she already knew the answer.
Alex scrubbed his hand through his hair, the frustration evident in every line of his face. “I mean… I can’t make it happen without outside funding. The cost of construction, the architects, the legal fees, everything is more than what we initially projected. The firm’s already stretched thin, and without a serious investment, I don’t know how we’re going to pull this off.”
Anya sat back in her chair, her mind racing.
“But… I thought the project was already secured. The investors were on board, right?” she asked, her voice betraying a mixture of disbelief and concern.
“They were,” Alex replied, exhaling sharply. “But they pulled out when they saw how much the costs had skyrocketed. I’ve tried everything, Anya. I’ve maxed out my options, and the bank won’t lend us anything more. The investors are waiting for us to show we have a solid financial plan… but we’re out of options.”
Anya felt a lump form in her throat. She had known Alex was doing everything he could to keep the dream alive. But she hadn’t realized how close they were to the edge.
She had been working so hard to maintain her future with Alex, their wedding, their plans to build something beautiful together. But now, she was staring down the very real possibility that all of it could fall apart, not because of a lack of talent, but because of money.
“So, what now?” Anya’s voice was quieter than she had intended. “What do we do? Is there no one who can help?”
Alex hesitated, his fingers absently tracing the seam of the couch cushion. Then, after a long moment, he lifted his eyes to meet hers, and for the first time that evening, there was a flicker of determination. Maybe even hope.
“There’s... one thing,” he said carefully. “It’s a long shot, but that's all I've got.”
Anya leaned closer, her heart leaping at the shift in his voice. “Tell me.”
Alex drew a breath, as if steadying himself before speaking. “The Desmond family is hosting their annual charity gala this weekend. It’s... it’s the event of the year. Everyone who matters will be there, investors, politicians, merchants. If I could get a few minutes with the right people, maybe... just maybe, I could convince someone to back the project privately.”
A familiar ache bloomed in her chest, sharp and immediate, like a wound she thought had long since scarred over. Her mouth went dry.
She forced herself to smile, nodding slowly as if she were only processing the logistics. Alex didn’t notice as he was too caught up in the thought, his hands moving as he spoke.
Anya’s stomach twisted. She thought of the grand marble halls of the Desmond estate, the glittering chandeliers, the attendants and him.
She hadn’t seen him in years, had avoided every possible place he might be, buried those memories deep enough that Alex had no reason to even suspect they existed. But if she helped Alex get into that gala, and she would, because how could she not? There was a very real chance she would have to face Damian again.
Anya blinked, realizing her hand had tightened into a fist in his lap. She forced it to relax, painted a reassuring smile across her face as she realized she hadn’t told Alex that she personally knew that family, but also, the story she had with their youngest member.
"Anya?" he asked her.
“Yeah,” she lied lightly. “Just thinking how we’re going to make this happen.”
As Alex began talking about plans about reaching out to old contacts, finding a way to get an invitation while Anya listened with half her mind.
The Desmond gala would be a night of opportunity for him. And for her, a night to remember unsolved feelings towards certain scion.