Being dumped is humiliating. It’s more than that when someone dumped you with a cutting reason they had claimed the most charming about you. After a couple of years of mutually ignoring each other’s existence from a distance, you enter into a fake relationship with them for reasons.  Just, wow.

A light-hearted Christmas rom-com where anything could happen. 

Chapter 1: The letter

“Let’s end this,” he said while still holding her hands in his. Both of them stop mid-stride soon after the words he uttered against the quiet winter air.

“W-what?” She stutters, totally caught off guard by the sudden turn of event. They were going on so well – or so she had thought apparently – for her to anticipate such an anti-climatic line from him while they were still holding hands.

His face was void of any expression as he looks down at her, unless cold, distant eyes and an inscrutable countenance on his handsome face were considered as some resemblance of emotions. She turned towards him and tilted her head up to stare at him. Her face is no doubt an image of open surprised on her youthful face. 

“It’s for the best,” he said after a moment. Is this logical? It didn’t seem to be. They were still holding hands in the cold air of winter night – his black-leathered gloves were secure and warm over her white woolen gloves – so what on earth was happening?

She blinked and closed her mouth, breathing out a white puff air the next instant. Glancing away for a second, she exclaimed, “I don’t understand!” She brought their entwined hands up in the air, shaking it for emphasis. “We’re still holding hands!”

He casted his dark eyes on their gloved hands that fitted so well together and simply said, “You’re very short.”

She froze; her brown eyes were wide opened. She felt as though the winter air had invaded her body and the season of extreme cold had taken residence in her being. Still, he continued in a neutral tone that was too impersonal for what came out from his treacherous mouth.

“I’d really hate to develop neck strain or bad posture in the future from looking down at you too often.”

The weight of his hands in her hold seemed very heavy suddenly, and their hands fell back to where they were. “That’s it?” She half asked, half whispered, disbelief clear on her face as it had echoed in her voice.

“What more can I say?”

She snatched her hand away from his hold and took a step back. Froze bite had taken over. In the span of they relationship, he had shown nothing but fondness towards her. Throughout the one year of their world, he had tell her every other day how her lack of height complemented with how absurdly tall he was. Now, for him to break up with her with what he had supposedly loved about her was beyond her comprehension, and to bring it up now will make her appear to be foolish and overly invested.

So, she said in the most caustic tone she can muster: “Well, good. My neck is starting to hurt from craning up to look at a bear with a neck of a giraffe everyday.” Scornfully, she spat, “I’d really hate to develop a bad posture. Better quit this before it’s too late.”

He merely sighs and a puff of white smoke dissipated into the air. The cease between his eyebrows is the only shift in his expression. She didn’t know what she saw in this constipated bastard.

“Well, this is it,” he said while staring at her still, his neck bent.

“Well, no,” she breathed, swallowing all her bitterness along with something as asinine as hurt, and sneered. “This is it,” she said and lurched forward to throw a punch at his face. She hit his jaw as he stumbled a few steps backwards. Without another glance or word, she turned around and walked away, stomping over the footprints of both of them arched in the snow.

Her only regret was not breaking his jaw when she was frozen to the marrow by his touch.

-

A punch is too good for that bastard, Jennel thinks, as the last remnant of a dream in disguised by memory collapses and gives way to consciousness.

The moment she opens her eyes, an addled frown appears between her brows and she turns around – rustling over her sheets and pulling along her blanket while she’s at it – to avoid the offending bright light shining at her face the first thing in the morning.

Right, it is morning; hence the sun. As an everyday morning ritual, Jennel ponders on the merits of purchasing curtains or blinds that she is too lazy to drop by a store to get.

It’s a Saturday, she remembers, and weekends are for sleeping into obscene hours of the afternoon. Anything earlier than that will be equivalent to giving up lush and luxury of comfort. Burying herself in her blanket, she breathes deeply and closes her eyes, ready to go back to sleep’s embrace.

Just as Jennel was bordering on the realm of sleep – how unfortunate it is that the most haunting moment of your life replays itself when your mind is at the most vulnerable state – the lingering image of her dream flashes in her mind’s eyes: snowed covered ground, intertwined gloved hands, emotions running haywire, and the heartless jerk who got away easy with a strike to the jaw.

Caught very off guard and feeling very bitter, Jennel shoots up on her bed.

“Urgh,” Jennel roughly exclaims and covers her face with hands in indignation, trying to shake herself off the sticky humiliation. She immediately rolls out of her bed and walks out of her room amidst the vertigo. It’s impossible to go back to sleep like this, she thinks.

Entering her living room, Jennel flops on to the sofa, leaning over to grab the remote control. The remote control is an old, aggravating thing that doesn’t work unless it is shook violently so Jennel did just that.

However, it didn’t work so Jennel has to retort to more loud and vicious means that involves knocking the remote control on table. “Come on you piece of junk.”

There is a sound of twisted doorknob followed by a series of shuffling footsteps – Amy has emerged out of her room – before a cheerful and boisterous greeting. “Good morning! Wow, you’re up earlier before me on a Saturday. Looks like it will be raining man today.”

Jennel snorts but doesn’t look up from her task to beat the remote control into a functional piece of product. “Morning, sunshine. Did I wake you up?”

Amy ambles over to the sofa and flops down right next to Jennel. “With all the chaotic banging slash abuse of an inanimate object? No, I always wake up at this time,” she chimes. “Unlike a little grumpy someone.”

Jennel pauses her arm mid-air with the remote control tight in her grip to shoot an unimpressed look at Amy. She wants to inform Amy it is disgusting how chirpy and loud she is acting so early in the morning but thought better of it. A lecture on how important it is to be positive the first thing in the morning is not what she needs right now.

Instead, Jennel dips a head slightly and let her eyes communicate exactly what she thinks. Amy merely grins and offers, “Here, let me.”

Jennel lets Amy pries the remote control out of her hand.

“So, what got you into a mood like this?” Amy asks casually as she lightly hits the remote control against the palm of her hand.

Jennel looks at Amy, a confused expression painted on her face. “What mood? I was just trying to turn on the TV.”

“Hmm,” Amy says mildly. “I see, I see.” Amy sounds both placating and unconvinced at the same time. Jennel rolls her lip in her teeth and says nothing, not bothering to elaborate anything for Amy to work with.

Under the calm ministrations of Amy’s and gentle hands, the remote control does what it supposed to do and the TV is on. “What channel?”

“News,” Jennel says.

“Surely you jest,” Amy says airily and flips the channels. “Cartoon Network it is then,” she eventually decides.

Jennel smirks and grabs onto a throw pillow nearby. She pauses at the pillow she took, which is custom printed with Amy’s late cat, Mr Meow, whom had long passed and went to the animals heaven years ago. Jennel pushes the well-loved throw pillow to Amy and grabs another one with lesser sentimental value.

Jennel settles into the sofa, hugging the pillow and puts both her feet up the coffee table, mindful of not disturbing the pile of letters lying on the table.

“Aren’t you going to open your mails?” Jennel asks after a couple of minutes while watching Dexter hatching yet another genius-though-not-foolproof plan. Having to consciously avoid accidentally kicking off the pile of letters is sort of annoying. “They are piling up more and more each day.”

“What about you? I’m sure your mails are buried somewhere under the pile of mine,” Amy replied easily, pointing a finger on the letter lying on the side of the coffee table.

“Please, don’t even try to lump me into the same category as you, you slob,” Jennel retorts, faux mockingly, throwing up a hand. “I always pick up my mail from this table every 3 days.”

Amy turns to Jennel, an eyebrow raised in challenged, her blue eyes bright. “Are you sure, Jen?”

“Yeap,” Jennel easily says.

“Let’s have us a little bet shall we?”

Jennel considers, glancing between the letters on the coffee table and Amy, who seems very confident for no apparent reason. “What kind of bet?”

“If I win, you have to go to the cabin holiday at Russia with me in December – expenses all paid for, so don’t you worry,” Amy beams. “If I lose, then dinner is on me for the next month.”

“You’re talking about cabin your childhood friend, Ginny has invited you to? Didn’t you mention that it was couple exclusive only?” Jennel asks, vividly recalling how excited Amy was when she received the invitation from Ginny. She was happily telling Jennel about how absurdly large and luxurious the cabin/mansion. Incessantly going on and on about it while Jennel nods and hum every few moment to pretend that she’s listening – and oh do you know it is appealing near a huge lake so we can skate on it when it freezes. Ginny is apparently engaged to a son of a property tycoon. I’m so happy for her!

“That’s the one!”

“Aren’t you bringing Caleb?” Jennel asks, tilting her head in question.

“Of course I am! He’s my one and only babe!” Amy laughs merrily, putting a hand over her chest for emphasis. Jennel doesn’t know to envy or despise her cheerfulness in the morning sometimes.

“Then it doesn’t make any sense,” Jennel points out. “You said the getaway is only for couples.”

Amy pauses for the slightest moment, her eyes widens for the slightest fraction. She pushes up her glasses and looks away and then gives another laugh.  “Don’t worry about it!” Amy says. “Couple as in pairs, you know. I’ll find another friend to tag along with you.”

Jennel narrows her eyes. Amy is acting a little suspicious. “I can find my own friend,” Jennel mumbles under her breath and return her stare to the Dexter, whose plan is being foiled by Didi in the most ridiculous manner.

“So,” Amy asks, already recovering from her previous awkward and suspicious behavior. “Is the bet on?”

Technically, this isn’t even considered a proper bet. Jennel has everything to gain and nothing to lose so she huffs and brings the throw pillow closer to her chest. “I always welcome free food, especially if it’s a month worth of it.”

“Someone’s confident,” Amy sings.

“In fact, I just picked up my letters yesterday,” Jennel continues with no hesitation, “which is not a difficult thing to do since I’ve been diligent in collecting them.”

“Argh,” Amy groans loudly, throwing a hand over her head. “I get it. You’re superior in meeting adult-ty duties and I’m not. No need to rub in.”

Jennel just laughs at her immature roommate. “Just choose to receive your bills online,” Jennel advises kindly. “Save yourself the hustle and the Earth at the same time.”

Amy puts her pillow aside and pushes herself on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward to survey at least 2 weeks worth of mails, going through them one by one.

“Well, Jennel,” Amy says, sounding awfully pleased. She turns around to look Jennel brightly and she is smiling widely.

“Looks like I win,” she announces as she brings up a letter to Jennel face.

Jennel frowns in disbelief, snatching the letter from Amy to inspect it.

It is indeed an envelope addressed to Ms Jennel Fann who lives at the 32th Street on level 9. It is curiously pinched within her fingers; looking all white, formal and pristine.

“It can’t be,” Jennel protests. “I just sort out the mails yesterday so it must be you who drop this letter on the desk afterwards,” she surmises. It’s the only reasonable explanation.

Amy shakes her head and tuts, waggling a finger at Jennel’s face. “Don’t be such a sore loser, Jen.”

Jennel snarls and tries to bite her fingers, viciously, but Amy has quickly moved to extract her finger from Jennel’s face and hide her hand behind her body. “Woah, don’t be hasty.”

“A bet is a bet. You have to honor your words, like a real woman.”

Jennel sighs, “Well, whatever. It’s not as if I have anything to lose.”

“I’m so excited you’ll be going!” Amy expresses fondly, already getting excited, a grin stretching on her small face. “We haven’t spent Christmas in a crowd for years now.”

Jennel bites her lips and say nothing. A wave of guilt washes over her. It is, after all, her fault that they have been spending all holidays in a small group now.

This is the problem of breaking up with someone you share many mutual friends with, Jennel thinks. Everyone hangs out at the same party and gathering, and Jennel insists on pretending The Big Bad Jerky Douchebag Ex doesn’t exist. Jennel didn’t want anyone to choose sides, so she had slowly withdrawn herself from the crowd.

Only Amy, who has been Jennel’s staunchest friend and supporter, chose to stick by Jennel, even if it means social isolation.

Jennel may not show it often enough, but she couldn’t be anymore grateful. At this moment, she is feeling sensitive and appreciative. Jennel leans over and gives Amy a hug. “Sorry, and thank you.”

Amy is surprised by the sudden display of affection, but she throws her hands around Jennel too. She smiles warmly, “What are friends for?”

“For an all expensed paid Christmas holiday, apparently.”

Amy laughs again, “Isn’t that right? Aren’t you so glad you’re friends with me now?”

Jennel nods and releases Amy from her very rare display of affection that comes in the form of embrace. “I knew I made the right decision to talk to the new girl on the first day of junior year.”

“I knew I’m definitely right when I didn’t judge the girl decked in all black from head to toe when she talked to me.”

“Shut up, that was a phase,” Jennel retorts indignantly, annoyed the fashion choice of her past has came to haunt her.  

“I thought that was who you are?” Amy teases, waggling her eyebrows.

“No,” Jennel disagrees, playfully smacking the letter over Amy’s shoulder. “And don’t you ever bring it up again.”

“No promises,” Amy replies. Jennel takes it. Amy sighs happily, “Seriously though, you will love the cabin/mansion by the frozen lake. It’s going to be great. It’s going to be the best Christmas in years.”

Jennel smiles, feeling slightly pumped up despite herself. What could possibly go wrong? “Yeah, if you say so.”

“Now, please go make me some waffles. I’m starving and it’s your turn to make breakfast,” Amy says, starring up at Jennel with smiling eyes and a smile to match.

Jennel rolls her eyes. “I know I should’ve stayed in bed.” She stands up and goes to the kitchen, the letter carelessly tossed on the table, completely forgotten.

-

It is a sunny bright afternoon, cloudy with a chance of snow when the three of them – Jennel, Amy, and Caleb – have arrived to the country where the mansion/cabin by the frozen lake is located at with a week worth of luggage in toll.

The moment they checked out of the departure hall, they have immediately spotted a man in black suit standing tall and stolid among the buzzing crowd of people who are waiting for their friends or relatives to arrive in airport.

He is really sticking out like a sore thumb because everyone here is decked in red and green and just colors everywhere in general.

Not that Jennel is complaining, because it makes him so much easier to spot. The airport is crowded – literally a nightmare for people avoid crowd as if it was a mission like Jennel – no surprise in this holiday season. It is one week to Christmas afterall. Jennel is thankful for anything that speeds up her exit to somewhere less crowded.

Uncoordinated colors, coordinated colors – it just don’t matter. It’s just to colorful for Jennel’s taste. She stops at that, mentally jerking from the halted train of thought, horrified. She tells herself: long gone are the days where Jennel would only dress in clothing in the shade of black. Her emo phase is over, and it’s definitely not making a come back.

Jennel looks down at the black woolly sweater she’s wearing and throws a sneaky glance at Amy, who is smiling at something Caleb is saying. Right then, she makes the decision to keep her sudden distain for colors (besides black) to herself instead of proclaiming aloud.

“Jennel,” Amy calls, apparently has noticed her random bout distress, “everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jennel fibs. She is probably overacting but Amy must never know or she’ll forever be dubbed as the girl who never got over her emo phase to Amy.

The man is holding golden paper that looks like it’s printed in two neat lines:

“Welcome,

Amy, Jennel, and Caleb.”

As they maneuver along the sea of displacing mass of people and towards the man in black, Jennel notices that golden paper he holds is a quality paper of certain paperweight. This is very convenient yet also very theatrical at the same time. Not that Jennel is complaining.

“Hello, my name is Gavin,” the man in black introduces with professionalism oozing out of his tone. “I am the keeper of the manor and I will be driving you to Master Boven’s resort under the request of Ms Ginny, if you will follow me, please.”

Caleb and Amy smile brightly, not at all thrown off by the formal demeanor of Gavin. “Thank you, Gavin!”

Jennel smiles too, the corner of her eyes crinkling. Yes Gavin, thank you for bringing us away from this mess of color-fied crowd.

-

“Wow, this is sure a fancy car,” Amy muses, lighting dusting over the leather seats. She reaches for her iPhone to take selfies.

Caleb leans over to Amy – sticking his tongue out – while she’s taking a selfie. She happily accepts his spontaneous photo bomb. “It sure is, babe,” Caleb then says. “Your childhood friend certainly knows how to make her guests feel comfortable.”

“What are we going to do for the next seven days?” Jennel asks.

“I’m sure they are activities lined up for us,” Amy offhandedly, putting her arms behind her head as she nestles in her seats. “So we just have to sit back and enjoy.”

“Maybe this is too late to ask,” Jennel says, suddenly remembering the conditions for this getaway, “but are you sure I won’t be kicked out for showing up alone?”

Caleb and Amy look at each other at once. Although none of them have said anything, they are silently communicating through their eyes. Jennel narrows her eyes by a fraction.

“What does that means?” Jennel asks warily, crossing her arms. “Are the two of you up to some unsavory plans?”

Amy laughs loudly – even awkwardly like she has something to hide – and Caleb joins in. What, Jennel thinks, a pair of perfect couple/dunce.

“Unsavory?” Amy cackles, fanning herself. “Don’t say it like that...” She trails off then averts her eyes from the Jennel to the windows.

“Then what is it?” Jennel pushes, eyeing at Amy suspicious, irritation also setting in. If Amy made her hopped on a plane only for her to hop on another one again within 24 hour then Jennel is going to … well, do something – blow her fuse or something like that.  

Jennel clears her throat and asks again, firmly. “Is Ginny going to ask me to leave when I turn up alone? If that’s the case, then you are going to pay for my return ticket and a month of dinner. As compensation.”

“Don’t worry about it. Ginny won’t ask you to leave,” Amy assures with a nod.

Caleb follows suit with a series of nods.

“Yeah, she certainly wouldn’t,” Caleb repeats seriously. “If you ended up leaving before the week is up, it’ll probably be voluntary.”

Amy whips her head on the side to look at Caleb, clearly horrified, and punches him on the shoulder. Caleb winces, “Ouch, babe!”

Jennel squints and considers the pair before her. This is certainly becoming very suspicious with grounded reasons. Definitely worthy of detailed questioning. “What is that suppose to mean?”

Caleb looks at Jennel, eyes wide and lips pinched together as if he’s doing everything he could to not blurb the secret out right then. Amy is panicking, pointedly looking at anywhere but Jennel.

“Caleb! Tell me what are the both of you hiding,” Jennel presses impatiently, meeting Caleb’s eyes with a stern glare, because it seems like he is more likely to fold under pressure, unlike his girlfriend, whose will is made of steel. He turns away meekly.

“Are you under gag orders from Amy?”

Amy laughs again to cover her precarious position. “You know your laser glare is very scary,” she evades and emphasizes. “But we have our reasons so just go along, okay?”

Jennel opens her mouth but Amy interrupts before she is able to get a word out.

Amy says very quickly, rushing over her words. “Okay, it’s been a long flight. Me and Caleb need our beauty nap so let’s all take a nap, okay?”

The pair then promptly closes their eyes and leaning their head backwards on the seat. Jennel huffs crossly.

“Hey! This is not fair!”

Exaggerated series of deep breathing is all the response Jennel gets. She can only stare and gape, feeling incredulous and utterly stunned by how ridiculous this is turning out to be. She huffs loudly and crosses her arms, throwing her back to the cool leathered seat and sulks.

This is all becoming very clear; Jennel should have thoroughly questioned Amy and Caleb and get the facts regarding this mysterious cabin/mansion by the frozen lake gathering before she jumping on a plane.

Now she’s miles away from home, it’s too late to look any remedy, Jennel sulks.  This is why she has trust issues. Never trust anyone – not even your roommate/best friend to not possibly screw you over for reasons unknown.

-

Another hour of car ride – or so, Jennel didn’t keep track – later, Jennel is staring at the sceneries rolling in from the windows as the car drives by. They are further and further away from civilization, Jennel notices. She hasn’t seen another vehicle or any form of architecture in a while now.

The ride is mostly in silence after Amy and Caleb have both unconvincingly dropped off to sleep, and they haven’t so as much stirred except to shift their limbs from time to time. Jennel is impressed at how dedicated they are to avoid her questions. Well, it’s not like they can hide it forever.

It’s nearing evening; strands of clouds are tinged with a dark whimsical mix of blue and purple, dusting across the winter skies in shadows. They have just passed the valley of snow-covered mountains on the side and now the car is driving by the curves of a wide frozen lake.

Across the lake, she catches glimpses of a beautiful forest – tall rows of trees, all covered with clean, white snow – blurring past as the car drives on, appearing to be darkly mesmerizing over the hues of the mid-day skies. That is quite a sight, and Jennel’s breathe is caught in her chest at how picturesque the scene before her is.

“We’ll be reaching the cabin soon,” Gavin says quietly from the front seat.

Amy stirs at Gavin’s announcement but says nothing, still carrying on her charade of feigning sleep. Caleb snores just then, as if to match Amy’s pretense. Jennel sighs but resists rolling her eyes at them.

It would be rude not to say anything so Jennel replies with a smile, “Got it. Thank you, Gavin.”

It is moments later when the vehicle finally pulls into the driveway of their destination.  Beyond the winding bends of frosty trees along the road lies a black, ornate gate; the entrance to the imposing architecture.

Jennel gapes from the window as the gate opens languidly and the car resume rolling past to enter into property of classic architecture and Corinthian columns. There is even a grand fountain – with water frozen through its dance in the midst of subzero air – sitting right at the front of the large, beautiful mansion, timeless and forlorn against the dark evening skies.

The car comes into a stop and Amy wakes with elaborated theatrics, dramatically yawning and stretching her arms. Jennel narrowly avoided being hit by her hand.

“Wow, that was such a gooooood nap,” Amy proclaims dramatically, rubbing her eyes and primping her hair. She looks at her surrounding through the windows.  “And wow again,” she breathes under her breathe. “This is fancy beyond my expectation.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve seen this in movies. Victorian movies,” Jennel says, still star-struck by the impressive infrastructure before her.

“Right?” Amy’s smile is sugary. She links her hands together and tries, “Aren’t you glad you’re here?”

Jennel meets her eyes, remembering how Amy was so determined to hide the chance of whatever disaster that could be lying ahead from her. Coldly, she says, “It’s too soon to tell. Looks like Caleb fell asleep for real.”

While Amy turns her attention to Celeb, Jennel climbs out of the car without a single word just because she can. Before she slams the door shut, she vaguely hears Amy saying softly, “Drats.”

-

Turns out that the mansion/cabin by the frozen lake is anything but that because it’s a severe understatement to describe this entire plot of land built into a something to resemble a mini castle – a manor, Gavin has mentioned.

As Gavin has informed them that their luggage will be brought up later by the servants – the trio exchanged baffled looks with each other at that because servants do exist in this time and age for the ridiculously rich people – they left their bags in the car when they enter the manor.

Jennel half expects to see people dressed in suits and evening gowns when Gavin opens the doors into the manor. It is anti-climatic to see that it is quiet and empty, save for the tasteful furniture and renaissance painting at every turn of the corridor.

“The guests are at the party room at the East Wing,” Gavin explains. “Let me show you to your rooms, which is at the South Wing. You may freshen up before I lead you to the there.”

“Party room?” Both Amy and Jennel inquire curiously as the group is led up a flight of spiral staircase with ornate balustrades that Jennel thought to be a fancy inconvenience when people are in a hurry.

Every piece of furniture or ornament in this place is so anachronistic Jennel feels misplaced in a different time period.  A silly and casual name like ‘Party Room’ for any room in a place like this seems to be quite odd.

“Master Boven and Miss Ginny have redecorated the Drawing Room for this occasion and dubbed it as the ‘Party Room.”

Caleb laughs lightly, removing his coat and holding it by the crook of his arms. “Wow, they seem like real fancy people.”

“Ginny is not the most creative person,” Amy inserts randomly. “She named her dog ‘Woof’ when we were young.”

Caleb and Jennel exchange bemused looks. “I can see why the both of you are friends now.”

“Yeah, babe. You named your late cat Mr Meow.”

“I was inspired by her!” Amy defenses, if that can be considered as one. “I added ‘Mr’ too!”

“Innovation is not your best trait, Amy,” Jennel adds nonchalantly, touching her chin with a hand and throws a faux sympathy look at her. Amy splutters.

“Sorry babe, I have to agree with it,” Caleb says sympathetically while making puppy eyes at Amy.

Amy rounds up on Caleb and catches his ears with her thumb and index fingers while Caleb whines aloud.

“Calm down children,” Jennel walks past them and chides in long suffering tone. “You’re embarrassing yourselves in front of Gavin.”

Gavin chuckles good naturally. “Don’t worry about it. This manor is usually empty all year long. It is nice to have some lively commotion once in a while.” 

Jennel smiles at that. “Commotion hur? There will no lack of that by the next seven days.”

He leads them pass a few more corridor than Jennel care to count – she was distracted when she saw an actual armor displayed on the side of the hallway – before stopping in front of a row of at least three rooms down the hall, all widely separated.

“Ms Amy and Mr Caleb will be staying in this room,” Gavin says while handing over the keys to both of them. “Ms Jennel,” he then turns to Jennel and pass. “Your room will be the one down the hall.”

“Please let me know when you’re ready to go to the Party Room,” Gavin informs. “I’ll be waiting by the stairs down the hall, which leads to the South Wing.”

He bows slightly and walks away.

Jennel turns to Amy and Caleb and says, “Well, I shouldn’t take too long. I’m just going to wash my face and throw my coat on the bed.”

“Yeah me too,” Amy agrees, already combing through her hair with her fingers. “Our luggage isn’t here yet anyway.”

“And it’s a good thing. Or I can’t imagine how long poor Gavin has to wait,” Caleb says brightly.  

Amy turns her head sharply to look at him, feeling offended for some reason. “Please, you’re the vainest of us all.”

Jennel ignores them and takes off to her room she will be staying at for the next seven days.

-

Jennel didn’t spend time exploring her room although she is very tempted to. The room, though is just a guest room, is very nicely decorated with refined furniture filled with antique charm that sends her back to another time and era.

There’s always time, Jennel reasons, so she does what she said she would, and goes to the bathroom immediately after tossing her brown coat on the four poster bed.

Jennel breezes in and out of the bathroom so quickly she almost didn’t notice a black coat laying casually over the backrest of a lavishly padded brown chaise longue. She goes over and gingerly picks up the coat, which is dabbed with a scent of a perfume that wafts over the air, igniting a sense of familiarity in her olfactory nerves.

It’s a scent that sends wistful warmth in her chest, yet it is also something she couldn’t point her finger to.

Strange, Jennel thinks. Maybe one of the guests left it here by mistake?

In the end, she places the coat where she found it and exits the room, deciding to inform Gavin of the misplaced coat later. When she steps out of the room, Amy and Caleb are both casually leaning their back over balustrade, engaging in a conversation with Gavin, who is standing ramrod straight.

Amy notices Jennel first. “She’s here,” Jennel hears her informing Caleb and Gavin, then she says slightly louder, “Can’t believe you spent longer time than us.”

“This isn’t a competition, Amy,” Jennel replies blandly, because it really isn’t. Amy probably zoomed in and out of the bathroom and forced Caleb to do the same. The wet stain in front of Amy’s sweater is proof.

Jennel pulls a face. “Did you even dry your face with a towel? Your sweater is wet.”

“It’s because I can’t wait.”

“Alright, are we ready to go, ladies?” Caleb interrupts, his tone light. “We can save the chattering later at the Party Room.”  

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jennel says. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Gavin.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Gavin answers politely. “The Party Room is at the second corridor down the stairs. If you would kindly follow me.”

The walk to the South Wing is slightly shorter than the one preceding and the hallways are illuminated with lighting dimmer than the grand foyer.

“This feels a bit like beauty and the beast,” Amy whispers suddenly.

“But babe, I’m here.”

“Why are you whispering?”

They finally stop in front of a door; Gavin pushes the door open and bright light float from beyond, presenting a sharp contrast from their position and the shining atmosphere from the room.

Buzzes of noises are the next thing Jennel notices.

Again, Jennel half expects the room to be filled with sights of twirling dresses and classy gentlemen bowing after a dance. Like in the Pride and Prejudice movie.

She couldn’t be anymore wrong and it is, again, sort of anti-climatic.

The Party Room is as grand as any part of the manor is – Jennel can tell even from the door. The room it is absolutely gorgeous, even if she doesn’t recognize a single soul beyond. One side of the room is filled with a large crystal, clear window that stretches from the carpeted floor that arches and reaches the sky.  The rest of the walls are creamy and smooth, reflected in soft hues from the light of the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Despite so, this is probably the most modernized room in this building. As Jennel steps into the room, she notices there are there are large speakers on display by one side of the wall to match with a huge display of flat screen television. A pool table is standing on the other side of the room, surrounded by a few men and ladies. There is even a table soccer board game behind the pool table.

The rest of the people who are not preoccupied with the games are gathered around a handful of pub tables placed evenly apart in the middle of the room, chatting lightly while holding cocktail glasses, champagne flutes and beer mugs among other drink ware that Jennel cannot recognize.

A voice calls out over the music and low murmurings of the room.

“Amy! You made it!” exclaims a girlish voice. A pretty woman emerges from a huddle of beanbags by the tall windows and waves excitedly at Jennel’s direction. Jennel is stunned for a while before she realizes that the woman must be Ginny because Amy is waving back with as much enthuse.

Ginny turns to her present company, probably to excuse herself, before turning around and walking towards them with a wide grin plastering on her face.

Jennel suddenly remembers that she stands at a risk of being politely kicked out of this manor. Grabbing Amy’s arm, she hisses, “You sure she won’t kick me out?”

“She won’t.” Amy merely says before stepping out to reach Ginny in the middle.

“Ginny!” Amy squeals an excited voice. “It’s been so long!”

Giggling dizzily, they give each other a tight hug.  “Wow, you haven’t changed much. I can’t believe you’re engaged.”

“Me neither! But Ivan has been so sweet and perfect. If there’s someone meant for me out there, it must be him. I craved.”

Turning to Caleb, Jennel says lowly, “Do you know her? Do you think she’ll kick me out?”

There’s that look on Caleb face again – the look of unspeakable complications. He’s clearly under a gag order from Amy. He bends his neck down and says quietly, “I don’t know her but I don’t think so.”

“That’s it?”

“Hey, you must be Jennel and Caleb!”

Both of them turn to Ginny and Amy, who are looking at them in all smiles and crinkled eyes. Jennel returns the smile and gives a tiny wave while Caleb grins.

“Yes, I’m Caleb. Thank you for inviting Amy and I over. You’ve a great place here.”

Ginny waves it off. “Oh don’t mention it.”

“And Party Room? Great name.” Amy intones in with a thumb up.

“I know, real creative right?” Ginny drawls good naturally, tugging a piece of strayed blonde hair behind her ears. “Maybe I should have keep the original name but Drawing Room is so out of time, you know.”

“I heard you redecorated the room for this occasion,” Amy says. “That is so sweet of you.”

“Actually, this is the only room I can mess with. This manor is part of Ivan’s inheritance. It used to be their family’s home a long time ago but none them have been staying here for years – it’s inconvenient you see – so I thought why not make use of it?” Ginny explains candidly, her free hand flying around.  

“So I invited my closest friends who are happy and attached over,” she grins wider.  “To spread the joy and love around you know?”

Oh no. This is awkward. Jennel averts her eyes elsewhere as panic sets in. Jennel doesn’t want to look like she’s gate crashing, or shamelessly tagging along invited guests. This is all Amy’s fault! She wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t make that silly bet. Jennel is not here swindling free room and board in this magnificent place like a common low life taking advantage of her friend’s more wealthy and privileged friend. 

“Jennel?”

Jennel blinks. It’ll be embarrassing if Ginny calls her out. Jennel can only hopes she’ll low-key ask her to leave instead of announcing it to a roomful of strangers.

Jennel shifts her eyes to Ginny and smiles warmly, gathering all the charms she has in her bones, hoping that it’ll help her case if she gets on Ginny’s good side. Extending a hand, she greets. “Hi Ginny, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh don’t be so formal!” Ginny says and takes her hand, firmly shaking it a couple of times before letting go. Her grin grows wider. “Any friend of Amy and Zackary is a friend of mine! You too Caleb.”

Jennel stills and her smile falters. She shifts her gaze to Amy whose eyes are blown wide as if she’s a deer caught in headlines. Caleb coughs into his hands.

Her gaze soon turns to undiluted glower.

“Speaking of Zackary,” Ginny continues, “he’s been here for a while and – “

Amy titters nervously and interrupts Ginny, “Where do we get the drinks? I’m desperate for a glass of wine.”

“Oh I’m so silly,” Ginny laughs, seemingly unaware of the tension. She points to the bar counter manned by a couple of guys near the door. “The drinks are right by that bar counter. The mini coolers are just besides the television if you need something else not already taken out.”

Amy and Celeb follows Ginny as she leads them to the table while Jennel trails slowly behind them, feeling as if she’s been rolled over by a wrecking ball.

So, this is the colossal disaster she’s been waiting to be revealed. Is this what Amy and Caleb had been hiding? That Zackary the douchebag is here? This is absurd on so many levels Jennel finds it laughable. Jennel doesn’t care if he’s here with some other girl happily attached.

Yet, another part of her asks; who is she kidding?

“Here, have a glass of champagne.” Jennel takes the glass offered by Amy by the flute while glowering at her. “Thanks,” she says grudgingly.

“You’re not mad at me?” Amy asks softly.

Jennel looks over at Ginny and Caleb, who are having a discussion on bottles of wine at the side of the table. She takes small sip off the glass. After a moment, she says, “I’m not mad.”

Amy sighs a relief.

“I’m angry and furious,” Jennel says petulantly and turns around, nearly drops the glass in her hand. 

Of all the things that could go wrong as tabulated in Jennel’s overactive mind – she never expected this. This must be a cosmic joke arranged by the universe because a massive calamity of this nature doesn’t just happen. She can’t see Zackary now; its two years too soon and maybe a hundred years later, it still wouldn’t be enough.

He is standing across a distance away by the pub table, currently engaging in a conversation with a gorgeous woman with soft, curly hair and legs that goes for miles. Has he always been there? Jennel can’t believe she didn’t spot him from before and flee the scene.

Jennel throws back the flute of champagne, nearly breaking the delicate glass in her grip.

The subject of her unadulterated derision, contempt, scorn – call it what you will – seems to have noticed murderous intent emitting from her. He slowly moves his eyes away from the woman he is speaking with to meet Jennel’s glare.

Jennel abruptly tears her eyes away from the offending person a distance before her and frowns at Amy.

“What is this?” Jennel demands, her voice controlled, although her glaring expression is slightly harder to amend.

“Well, you see, you didn’t manage to find someone along – I’m not sure if you even ask – so I asked Caleb to  - “

Jennel’s brain arrives at a standstill, short-circuiting. She can’t possibly mean…

“No!” Jennel interrupts harshly, frown growing deeper. “I meant what’s your motive for not telling me he’s here? And if you actually say what I think you were going to say earlier then we’re – “

“Zackary!” Ginny calls out, coming around from the other side of the table. “Where were you hiding?”

Startled, Jennel looks around to see Zackary striding closer and closer to the them, his large imposing figure coming around like a stonewall, and his passive gaze is consuming Jennel like it had two years ago. His lady companion – must be his current girlfriend, Jennel thinks scathingly – is by his side, smiling amiably.

Brows still very much furrowed, Jennel turns around to ask for a glass of wine.

His low voice is just as infuriating as she remembers. “I was at the balcony, enjoying the chilly winter air.”

Of course this room has a balcony. Of course this bastard is crazy enough to stand by a balcony in a winter night. Jennel wants to smack him over the head and seal it with a kick to his face and runs back to her room.

“You’re such a nerd and unromantic!” Ginny chides mockingly, pointing a finger at his face. Jennel suspects she’s half way down to tipsy town. “Choosing to hide in the balcony than accompany your girlfriend but I guess it’s alright since you found her now.”

There is a beat of silence after that.

“Hello, Calab and Amy.” Zackary looks over to the couple, slightly inclining his head with a polite smile. Amy returns a smile – that traitor – while Caleb waves gently.

No don’t talk to me, Jennel inwardly exclaims as she takes a long sip from her glass to cover up the scowl on her face.

Zackary then turns to her and says, “Hi, Jennel.”

How dare he ‘hi’ her after how they had parted, Jennel fumes quietly. Smoothing her expression to a blank, she brings the curve of the glass away from her mouth and sends a lopsided smile in his way – it’s can hardly be passed off as a smile, it’s more like a very forced tug at the corner of her mouth.

“Hi,” Jennel bits out, her voice pitched low. She will be the bigger person here, she decides fervently. She will be suave. She will not give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing that she’s still sore over him. She will not act like she’s a scorned lover. She will be indifferent.

“Looks like you’ve found someone who can look you in the eye,” Jennel says coolly although her heart is thumping mad beats and her hands are icy. Her mind is urging her to shut her mouth and stop talking so of course she has to say something else to compensate. “Good job.”

God. That is so weak. Good job?

Jennel blinks once slowly, moving her head to the side in the slightest degree instead of wincing at what she has blurted out. She wants to throw herself behind the bar counter the moment that passive-aggressive statement passed her lips. What was that? What happen being the bigger person?

A funny straggling sound comes out from Caleb. Out from the corner of her eyes, she sees Amy slapping a hand over her the side of her face while Caleb makes palming his forehead. Yes, she thinks. This is humiliating beyond her imagination.

Zackary doesn’t seem to be perturbed by Jennel’s remark, he seems typically collected, as if Jennel hasn’t say anything he didn’t expect. He doesn’t miss a beat before he replies. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken, Jennel,” he says smoothly, meeting her eyes, watching her curiously.

Jennel winkles her nose and holds his stare.

“Hmm. Well, in any case, it’s hardly my business,” she says curtly this time and chins up, giving herself a mental pat on the shoulder.

The woman besides Zackary finally says something for the first time. She laughs coquettishly with a hand over her lips. “Well, I’m afraid I’ve been tagging along with Zackaryery too closely.” She then extends a hand to Jennel.

Jennel reaches out and shakes her hand out of conditioned reaction. “My name is Belle. It’s nice to meet you, Jennel.”

She seems lovely and her voice is pleasing. There isn’t anything to dislike, Jennel barely knows her, but a green haze twirls in her head. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Jennel mumbles.

A smile still playing on her lips, Bella says, “Sorry to keep Zackaryery away from you. I caught him emerging out of the balcony and I needed to discuss some business matter with him.”

Jennel is confused by the way she worded her sentence. “Excuse me?”

“Believe me,” she continues, drawing closer to Jennel, her eyes glinting at Jennel as if she’s sharing a secret with her but also the people around them. “He’s anxious to see the love of his life. Long distance relationship has been difficult on him.”

Jennel opens her mouth to say something but speech seems to have eluded her. She draws a breath and tries again. “W-what?”

“There is absolute nothing between me and Zackary. I’m Ginny’s sister in law. I’m married to her brother.” Bella explains and holds up her left hand, a shiny stone catching reflection and glittering off her ring finger.

“Okay,” Jennal says slowly, nodding her head, not sure what else to say to that.

“Well then,” she pushes on flippantly, just to show she’s completely all right with Zackery finding someone he loves enough to be called the love of his shitty life. “Who is the love of his life since I was mistaken?”

A puzzled look crossed Bella’s face for a second before she smiles. “It’s you of course. Unless there’s another Jennel in this room and I have greeted the wrong one.”

There is amusement in Bella’s voice but it doesn’t sound like she’s joking. It feels like a huge balloon filled with cold water has exploded on Jennel face to hear that, really.

“Excuse me?” Jennel finally bursts, her tone frantic this time. She shifts her eyes to Zackery to see that he’s been watching her closely with unblinking dark eyes. He is standing beside Bella, as still and silent as a rock, not saying anything at all to correct Bella.

Ginny chuckles, tilting her head to the side. “I see what this is!” She sharply surmises, please with her conclusion. “This is a lovers’ spat. We better not be involved.”

“No!” Jennel protests crossly, raising her free hand to make gesture pointedly. “I don’t know what’s going on but you and Ginny seem to be under the impression that Zackary and I are together.”

“You’re not?”

“Yes!”

“So you and Zackary are together.”

“No way!” Jennel exclaims, flustered in this ridiculous turn of event. “You can ask Amy and Caleb –” Who are not at where they were. Jennel has turned around to see a trail of invisible dust in their spot from their hasty exit. Jennel chews her lips.

“Zack, your lady seems to be really mad at you.”

“Yes, she seems to be but I promise to do my best to make it up to her.”

Jennel growls and turns sharply to glare at Zackary. Very menacingly, she says, “I will rip your curly hair off your scalp.”

“Rough,“ Ginny growls. Bella chimes a little laugh of hers. Jennel looks at them – hopelessly and disturbed. “Let’s go and leave them be.”

They amble off from the bar counter with Bella guiding Ginny by the arm.

“Can I refresh your drink?” Zackary asks kindly after they have trailed off, not tentatively nor cautiously, not afraid of how Jennel may react at all. It’s not as if he had broken up with Jennel while holding onto her hand like a lifeline, giving her a dumb excuse when she asked for a reason. His face and tone is confident and assured and it’s irksome.

Jennel’s grip on her glass jerked before she realizes, the remaining content in the glass splashes over the front of trashy Zackaryery’s grey pullover, effectively ruining what looks like to be a quality sweater.

“No,” Jennel says in a chilling tone. “But you look like you needed some reminder to refresh your memory.”

Zackery looks down at the red liquid spreading over the front of his fleece shirt. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t take my appearance well,” he muses aloud.

“Then you must be stupider than I remember,” Jennel seethes and strides towards the only exist in the room. Pushing the door open, she steps out it the party room and into the dimly lit hallways, muttering expletives as she marches all the way back to her room, the carpeted floor absorbed the sound of her stomps.

She only pauses when she hears sounds of faint footsteps a short distance behind her. Thinking that it’s Amy following her, she whips around, determine to give her a proper tongue lashing about how she’s taken advantage of her trust and friendship.

It wasn’t Amy. Jennel really doesn’t know why she is surprised.

Instead of asking why to avoid giving Zackary a chance to speak, Jennel warns caustically,  “Stop following me.” Then she turns around and continues marching down the halls.

Zackary says nothing but he keeps his pace a few steps behind Jennel. Jennel jerks around harshly. 

He says placidly, “I need a change of clothes. My room is in this direction too.”

Jennel resumes her march back to her room, jogging up the stairs that connects that South and East Wings. When she reaches the end of the steps, she hears Zackary’s footfall tapping lightly against the stairs. She pulls out a key from her jeans pocket and stops when she’s in front of her room. Brutishly, Jennel stabs the key into the keyhole and twists the doorknob.

Against the silence in the hallway, she vividly registers Zackary strolling past her in quiet footsteps that breaks out of nowhere instead of fading down the hall.

Then it all clicks. Zackary’s presence is a dark storm behind her and she is donned in a durable raincoat.

“No.”

“My luggage is in the room.”

“Then take your crap and get another room,” Jennel says sharply and swings open the door. Zackary follows through wordlessly and heads to the wardrobe, pulling out his suitcase placed against the side of it.

Good. Get your suitcase and get out, Jennel thinks.

“I can’t get another room,” Zackary replies belatedly as kneels down and he opens his suitcase from the floor.

“Then I’ll get another room,” Jennel simply says from the door.

“The rooms are full from what I hear. They are all occupied by the guests.”

“Is it a joke?” Jennel shakes her head with a huff of laughter. Zackary looks up from the floor.

“I think the question is,” she says pointedly with accusing eyes directing fiercely at Zackary. “Why are we even placed in the same room?”

He stands up smoothly in one quick motion with hold a clean shirt in his hand and face Jennel from across the room. His eyes are intense and watchful as he maintains his famed golden silence. She would had crack a joke about how he must have inspired Lady Gaga’s Poker Face but not anymore.

He hasn’t changed at all, and Jennel is drained just from looking at him. Her shoulders slump. They, however, have changed. The concept of them is no longer an entity and it aches to see him again – it’s like scratching on a barely scabbed wound – because he still holds strings in her heart.

It is Jennel who breaks the eye contact. She licks her parched lips and averts her eyes, scrambling for words to say. “Lost your tongue? You still owe me an explanation.”

“I’m observing,” Zackary murmurs, his gaze still planted on Jennel. “Are you referring to what transpired two years ago or just now?”

Jennel’s temper flares. She swallows tightly before answering. “What do you think, genius? What happened two years ago is done. Why didn’t you try to correct the crazy misconstruction Ginny and Belle had earlier?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” He says softly as he begins to treads towards her.

“Were you ever so vague? You’re pissing me off.”

“Then let me put it simply.”

There he stands directly in front of Jennel. She looks up with narrowed eyes, a stubborn frown between her brows while he gazes down at her with half lidded eyes. Unblinkingly, Zackary says solemnly, “I didn’t correct them because what they have is not a misconstruction, it’s the result.”

Jennel stares. “I’m getting you back.”

The cease between Jennel’s brows relax as she lowered her head, her eyes hidden by hair falling in front of her face in messy strands. She breathes out and tries to control it but it is incredibly staining so she doesn’t bother.

Bubbles of laughter escape her throat and she chuckles roughly.

When Jennel peers up, Zackary hasn’t shifted at all. He is still towering over her like an impending rainstorm. It is obvious to her now that he is really trying to get under her skin; she’s not letting it happen again. Her fortress is up with twice the amount of defense. Finally, she sighs, a rueful smile over her lips.

“Go to hell,” Jennel mutters and walks away without sparing a glance to the unyielding man before her.

He will let her go, just like that day.

But then a hand reaches out and grabs her forearm, riveting her to the ground.

“It will not happen again,” Zackary says, his voice clear and certain. “I will die before I let go of you again.”

Jennel jerks her arm back but he only hangs on tighter. “Knock it off,” She snarls. “I’m over you, got it? You’re not getting me back because there’s nothing you can do to make me want you again.”

“You’re over me hur?” Zackary asks, contemplating over the answer.

“Yes, I’m so over you.” She spits and tries to get her arm back.

“I’ll just have to make you into me again,” he says.

Jennel lets out a derisive snort. “Now you’re making me sound easy. It won’t be. I’ll have to give you a chance for that to happen and I learn every lesson by heart.”

“Darling,” he says, leaning unbearably close, “I know I’m still in your heart somewhere.”

Then he releases her arm and makes his way to the bathroom. “My arm is free, but you’re not dead,” she calls out as he enters the bathroom.

He throws a small smile over his shoulders and says, “I’ll see you later, Jennel.”

Jennel breathes quietly and tries to calm her loud, beating pulses.