Ian walked slowly up the grand stone steps, his heart pounding in his chest as he glanced down briefly at Eliza, who walked beside him, her fingers gently wrapped around his arm. The softness of her touch offered a sense of comfort, but Ian couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that clung to him. His mind was racing, wondering how this moment had spiraled so far out of his control. Before they reached the grand doors of the castle, he smiled at Eliza before stepping inside.

The air inside the castle was thick with anticipation, and Ian could already feel the eyes of the guests boring into him. He glanced around, noticing a sea of faces he barely recognized, all murmuring softly among themselves. As he entered the vast hall, his attention was drawn to Eliza’s mother, who stood nearby, her regal presence impossible to miss. She was already gliding toward him, a practiced smile on her lips. Ian instinctively straightened his back, and as he did, he caught sight of his own mother moving through the crowd, her gaze sharp and calculating.

His mother, elegant in her flowing gown, swept through the room like a breeze, effortlessly commanding attention. She came to a stop before Eliza’s mother and gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. “We invited them all to the engagement party and the wedding,” his mother said, her voice smooth and confident, like she had been planning this moment for months. Ian froze at her words, his stomach suddenly dropping.

He blinked in confusion, glancing back and forth between the two women, trying to process what his mother had just said. “E... engagement party?” he stammered, his mind struggling to make sense of the situation. He had been under the impression that this was supposed to be the engagement party—the one that signified the beginning of their future together. But now, the way his mother had worded it, nothing seemed certain. Was this really an engagement party, or had things somehow escalated without his knowledge? He glanced at Eliza, who had a similarly confused expression, her eyes wide as if she, too, was unsure of what was going on.

His mother turned her gaze to him, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “But I thought this was an engagement party,” Ian continued, his voice trembling slightly as he searched for answers. “Isn’t this what we’ve been preparing for?” His words were met with a brief, almost imperceptible smirk from his mother. She didn’t answer directly. Instead, she merely turned toward Eliza’s mother, who stood with a bemused smile on her face, waiting for the conversation to unfold.

“Oh, I don’t see why we can’t have more than one, don’t you agree?” Ian’s mother asked, looking over at Eliza’s mother with a twinkle of something far more devious than Ian had ever noticed before. He felt a sense of unease coil in his stomach, and the room seemed to grow colder as the implications of his mother’s words sank in.

Ian felt as though the ground beneath his feet had shifted. He looked around, now noticing the guests, who were quietly observing the interaction, some of them whispering in hushed tones, clearly enjoying the subtle drama that was unfolding before them. The realization hit him—this wasn’t just an engagement party. This was something far more elaborate, something designed to manipulate, to control, and to set the stage for something even larger. His stomach twisted in knots as he turned back to Eliza, whose expression mirrored his own confusion and anxiety.

“Mother,” he finally managed to say, his voice trembling with both frustration and disbelief. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we agreed on the details, but this—this isn’t what we planned.”

His mother glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, her composure unshaken. “Oh, Ian,” she said, her tone light but with an underlying firmness, “sometimes things don’t go exactly as planned. But that’s part of the fun, don’t you think?” She gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug as if to dismiss his concerns. “You’ll get used to it. We all have our roles to play.”

Ian’s mind was spinning as he stood there, unable to fully process what was happening. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his life was slipping further out of his control, and as the whispers of the guests grew louder around him, he realized that this engagement, this entire event, was far more than he had ever imagined. What had started as a simple celebration of love had somehow turned into a grand spectacle, one that his mother and Eliza’s mother seemed determined to orchestrate with their own agendas in mind.

Ian glanced up at Eliza, watching her steady pace ahead of him. His legs felt heavy, and his breath came in short, desperate bursts as he struggled to keep up. “Eliza! Eliza!” he called out, his voice hoarse, trailing after her. He pushed himself harder, but his body was beginning to protest. His chest tightened with each inhale, the air feeling thinner, as if his lungs had forgotten how to function properly. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his feet felt like lead.

“Your… too fast!” he panted, stumbling slightly as he tried to catch up, but it only made the distance between them feel larger. He bent over, clutching his knees, trying to steady himself. His lungs ached, each breath like fire as he drew it in. It was a struggle, the kind of fight that made you wonder why you even started in the first place. But he ignored the pain, pushing through it with sheer willpower.

Finally, after a few more deep, labored breaths, he stood up straight, wiping the sweat from his brow, and let out a long sigh. “Well…” he began, trailing off, his words faltering as he searched for something to say. He struggled to find the right words. There was so much on his mind, but the weight of it all made it difficult to put into sentences. “I… uh…” he continued, eyes darting away from her, avoiding her gaze for a moment as if he could keep the thoughts to himself. He felt vulnerable, exposed in this moment of weakness.

“I got nothing to say,” he admitted finally, his shoulders sagging as if the confession itself had drained what little energy he had left. He shrugged, a simple gesture that didn’t quite capture the turmoil swirling inside him. His body was tired, but his mind was even worse—tired in a different, deeper way.

Leaning back into the wall, he let the weight of his body sink into it, as if the solid surface could hold him up when he could no longer hold himself. His legs gave out slightly, and he let himself slide down, resting against the cold stone. “This is getting too hard to bear,” he muttered, his voice almost a whisper, though the words still felt too loud in his own ears. He covered his face with his hand, rubbing his eyes as though trying to rub away the exhaustion, the confusion, the overwhelming weight of his reality.

He paused for a moment, inhaling deeply, trying to calm himself, but it didn’t help. The pressure in his chest didn’t ease. The constant pressure of his marriage, of trying to be the person he thought everyone wanted him to be, was suffocating. He thought of his parents, their expectations, their endless voices in his head. “Being married…” he said quietly, as if speaking the words aloud would somehow make them real in a way they never were before. The obligations, the responsibilities, the constant tug of other people’s needs. His parents being parents, their love and concern turning into a kind of expectation he couldn’t escape.

“And discomfort…” he continued, voice trembling. There were too many things to say. Too many feelings he couldn’t explain. But it was the discomfort, the constant state of unease that seemed to define his life now.

He lifted his hand from his face and glanced up at Eliza, meeting her eyes for the first time since he had stopped running. The look in her eyes, the understanding there, made the weight of everything feel just a little bit lighter. He knew she felt the same way. She didn’t need to say it; he could see it in her expression, in the way she held herself. It was a small comfort, knowing that they weren’t alone in this—knowing that, despite all the weight they carried, they shared the burden.

The silence between them was heavy, but somehow, it didn’t feel as crushing as before. They didn’t need to speak to understand each other. They didn’t need words to know how much they were both struggling.