02
Sebastian sat at the elegant dining table in Cleo and Inigo's lavish home, the atmosphere as cold and pristine as the ice sculptures adorning the room. Cleo, Amelia's mother, sat at the head of the table, her presence commanding despite her silence. Her reputation as the ice queen of the corporate world was well-earned, and her sharp intelligence was evident in her piercing gaze.
Inigo, Amelia's father, was a stark contrast to his wife. Warm and charming, he exuded a relaxed confidence that came from years of being in the spotlight as the lead singer of a world-famous band. His easy smile and engaging manner made him instantly likable, and he was always the one to break the silence during these dinners.
"Where's Amelia?" Inigo asked, his tone light but tinged with concern. "It's already 9 PM. Isn't it unusual for her to be out this late?"
Sebastian shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "She's probably at the library," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "I haven't seen her for a couple of days, but I know she's been home because her things are gone in the morning."
Cleo raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her expression unreadable. Inigo nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his wine.
"You two live together, yet you haven't seen each other for days?" Inigo asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.
Sebastian forced a smile. "We're both busy with our own schedules. Amelia is dedicated to her studies, and I'm occupied with my own responsibilities."
In truth, Sebastian hadn't seen Amelia for two days, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit. Despite their mutual indifference, their cohabitation had established a routine that was now disrupted. Her absence was palpable, and it gnawed at him.
As dinner progressed, Sebastian found his mind wandering back to the events of the previous night. He could still see Amelia's cold, detached smile as she had walked away from him in the dark corridor. Her words echoed in his mind, "I used to like you, anyway."
Sebastian couldn't shake the image of her face, so composed and distant. He knew he had hurt her, even if she didn't show it. But why did it matter to him? They were engaged by arrangement, not by choice. He didn't care about her, or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.
The conversation at the table continued, with Inigo sharing stories from his latest tour, and Cleo occasionally interjecting with a sharp comment. Sebastian nodded and smiled at the appropriate moments, but his thoughts remained elsewhere.
After dinner, as he excused himself and headed back to the apartment he shared with Amelia, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The place was silent when he arrived, a stark contrast to the vibrant life of Inigo and Cleo's home. He wandered through the apartment, noting the small signs of Amelia's presence—the neatly stacked textbooks on the coffee table, the faint scent of her perfume in the air.
Sebastian's thoughts raced. He had been careless, and now he was paying the price. The memory of Amelia's cold smile haunted him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between them. As he lay in bed that night, sleep eluded him. He stared at the ceiling, replaying the events of the past few days in his mind.
He remembered the venomous words spoken by the woman he had been with, and how he had agreed with her, not realizing Amelia was there, listening. He remembered the shock and hurt in Amelia's eyes, even though she had masked it well.
As the hours ticked by, Sebastian found himself questioning everything. His indifference towards Amelia, their engagement, his own actions. For the first time, he felt a pang of regret, a sense of loss for something he had never truly valued.
The following day, Sebastian decided to find Amelia. He needed to talk to her, to explain, though he wasn't sure what he would say. He searched the library, her favorite study spots, and even the campus cafes, but she was nowhere to be found. His frustration grew with each passing hour.
When evening came, Sebastian returned to the apartment, hoping she would be there. As he entered, he heard the faint sound of water running from the bathroom. Relief washed over him. He waited, rehearsing his words, but when Amelia finally emerged, she walked past him without a word, heading straight to her room.
"Amelia," he called after her.
She turned to face him, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. "Yes?"
"Amelia," he called after her.
She turned to face him, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. "Yes?"
"We need to talk," he said, his voice more desperate than he intended.
She regarded him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."
They sat in the living room, the tension between them palpable. Sebastian took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.
"About the other night," he began, "I—"
Amelia raised a hand, silencing him. "You don't need to explain, Sebastian. I heard enough."
"But—"
"I don't care," she said, her voice steady. "You can do whatever you want. We're engaged by arrangement, not by choice. Our personal lives don't intersect."
Her words cut deeper than he expected. He had anticipated anger, accusations, but her indifference was far more unsettling.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice hollow.
She nodded, as if that settled everything, and stood up. "Goodnight, Sebastian."
As she walked away, he realized that Amelia had become an enigma to him. The more he tried to understand her, the more she eluded him. And for the first time, he found himself wanting to unravel the mystery that was Amelia.
********
The next few days were a study in contrast. Amelia's demeanor towards Sebastian shifted dramatically. Gone was the polite, kind treatment she had reserved for him. Instead, she treated him with the same cold indifference she showed to everyone else. Her responses to his questions were curt, her interactions with him minimal and impersonal.
One morning, Sebastian walked into the kitchen to find Amelia making coffee. He attempted a smile, hoping to break the ice. "Morning," he said.
She didn't look up from her task. "Morning," she replied, her tone flat.
"Do you have a busy day ahead?" he asked, trying to engage her.
Amelia shrugged. "Same as usual."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Sebastian felt like an intruder in his own home. He watched her for a moment, noting the precise, efficient way she moved, her expression giving nothing away.
"Amelia," he started again, "can we at least try to—"
"Try to what?" she interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. Her eyes were cold, and there was no trace of the warmth she had once shown him. "Pretend that everything is fine? That we care about each other? We both know that's not true."
Sebastian felt a pang of guilt and frustration. "I never wanted things to be like this."
"Neither did I," she said simply, turning back to her coffee. "But this is the reality we have to live with."
As she left the kitchen, Sebastian was left grappling with a sense of helplessness. He had always been able to charm his way out of difficult situations, but Amelia was immune to his usual tactics. She had built a wall around herself, and he had no idea how to breach it.
That evening, Sebastian tried again. He waited for Amelia to return from her classes, determined to bridge the growing chasm between them. When she walked in, he stood up from the couch, ready to speak.
"Amelia, we need to talk," he said, blocking her path to her room.
She sighed, clearly irritated. "What now, Sebastian?"
"I know I've been a jerk. I know I messed up. But can we at least try to be civil?"
She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Civil? Sure. We can be civil. But don't expect anything more than that."
He took a step closer, desperate to reach her. "I don't want us to live like strangers."
"We're not strangers," she said, her voice ice-cold. "Strangers might actually be polite to each other."
Her words stung, and he took a step back. "Why are you being like this?"
"Because," she said, her eyes flashing with a rare intensity, "I'm done pretending. I'm done being kind to someone who doesn't deserve it. You made it clear how you feel about me, Sebastian. I'm just returning the favor."
With that, she brushed past him and disappeared into her room, leaving him standing there, feeling more alone than ever.
Sebastian sat back down, his thoughts a tangled mess.
********