Standing in the bright summer day. The wind was blowing through her hair. She looks up at the clear sky as she remembers a day from seven years ago

Elina remembered every second and every minute details of that day

They were just sixteen, barefoot on an almost empty beach two hours by bus ride from the city, wind in their hair and the smell of sea water lingering around them. She’d just finished a long rant about some literature teacher who refused to let her submit an essay late, and Oswal had laughed at the fuming face she had on her — really laughed, the kind that crinkled his eyes and made her heart ache for reasons she didn't yet understand.

Then out of nowhere he said. Carelessly, casually, the way only teenagers in love believed they had all the time in the world.

“One day, I’m going to marry you. You’ll be mine, and I’ll never let you cry over anyone else again. Elina one day I will make you my wife”

Elina softly smiled and hugged him tightly whispering “I will be waiting for it.”

It wasn’t a grand declaration. It wasn’t even a promise. Just a sentence casually made by him.

But she never forgot that sentence.

She remembered how warm and reassuring his hand had felt when he held hers. The way he looked at her like she was the only important thing in the world.

She remembered that day well because it was the last time she saw him before everything fell apart.

The young boy who had held his hand was gone

And now, seven years later, she stood outside this grand building which was a sign of majesty. He lifted her feet and made her way to the elevator. As she entered the elevator she looked at the polished walled elevator where the walls were reflecting her image like mirror with one side being a transparent glass through which she could see the view outside, Right in the center of the city in the grand building, watching her reflection flicker against the skyline, waiting to walk into a boardroom where she would meet that young man once again and agree to marry him again.

Except this time, it wasn’t for love.

It was a business .

And he had no idea that he had already broken her heart once.

Because Oswal Cooper—the cold, brilliant CEO who needed a wife for a PR deal—didn’t remember her.

Not their summer.

Not the beaches.

Nor the movies

Not the way he’d once whispered her name like a promise.

But she would still marry him. As she still can’t forget him.

........

Elina Riley nervously stood outside the frosted glass doors of Cooper Global, her fingers tightly clenched around the contract folder, she knew that once she stepped through the door she would be bound to Oswal by marriage. The city buzzed outside the building like a thousand unanswered questions, but in here, silence was all she could feel. Her heart was hammering against her chest as she thought about the reason for her visit.

She wasn’t ready.

Not for the man behind that door.

Not for the man who had once held her heart like it was fragile — only to let it shatter on impact.

Not for Oswal Cooper.

Her ex-best friend.

Her first love.

And now… soon-to-be husband.

Her feelings towards him were somewhat like a love-hate relationship. She loves him a lot but at the same time she hates him for breaking her heart.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. She would soon be married and it would be “A contract marriage”, negotiated like a business deal, between two people who couldn’t be in the same room for five minutes without burning something within them— usually pride, sometimes memories, always hearts. She had a variation of emotions swirling within her. She wanted to lash out at him and ask why he had forgotten about their promise, she wanted to cry and throw tantrums like in the past. She wanted to escape the entire situation. But on the outside she just looked calm with not much changes in her expression.

The assistant nodded towards her saying. “Mr Cooper is waiting. You may enter.”

Elina took a deep breath, smoothed the edges of her clothes, calmed her racing heart and mind, and stepped in.

Oswal stood by the window, tall and composed in a charcoal-gray suit that fit him like a glove. He turned at the sound of the door opening and the soft click of heels on the marble floor, and for a moment — just one flickering second — something unreadable crossed his face. Even though the flicker was only for a second, she had caught that change and them a haunting thought occurred in her mind

She wondered if he remembered.

Oswal quickly composed himself and didn’t let any changes show.

“Elina,” he said, smooth and businesslike, as though he hadn’t once kissed her breathless beneath a tree. As if he had never held her in his arms.

“Oswal,” she replied, looking straight into his eyes. She kept her voice equally emotionless and businesslike. “You look well.”

“You look… different.”

There it was. The pause. The catch in his throat. He had noticed. Of course he did. But he’d never say it, not first. Not anymore.

They sat across from each other like opponents across a chessboard.

Oswal looked at her and slid over a folder “The contract,” he said, tapping the folder. “One year. Public appearances as a married couple. Weekly press involvement. Discretion above all.”

She took the folder and flipped it open. The scent of ink and paper couldn’t mask the weight of what this meant to her.

She paused for a few seconds and then asked “And afterward?”

Oswal replied in a matter of fact tone “We part ways. Cleanly.”

Cleanly…..

Elina’s eyes lowered as she mentally thought that nothing about them had ever been clean.

Her fingers brushed the pen. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

His gaze darkened. “Are you not?”

She lifted her chin. “I just think it’s strange. You… me… after everything.”

After a few seconds of silence, just as Elina had started to have some hope.

Oswal said, “It’s just a name on paper, Elina. Let’s not pretend it’s anything else.”

Her smile was sharp. “Of course. Just a name. Nothing more.”

But her hand trembled slightly when she signed.

And his hand lingered too long when he passed her the ring.

After they finished signing the contract the two walked out of the office into the elevator.

The elevator ride down to the car park was tense, both facing forward, pretending not to feel the heat of memory brushing against their skin.

Oswal broke the silence first.

“You’re still angry,” he said.

She turned, startled. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t look at me like that. I'm just asking you on the basis that we would soon be husband and wife even though it's just on paper”

“I’m not angry,” she said coolly. “I just know better now.”

His jaw tightened and he clenched his fists at his side. “Know better than what?”

“Then to believe in fairytales. Or promises made on beaches you never intended to keep.”

Silence.

Long. Heavy Silence. Cracked only by the hum of descending floors.

Then, softly uttered, “I never broke that promise, Elly.”

She turned to him slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You left.”

Oswal hissed “You never asked why.”

She chuckled in a self mocking tone “You never gave me a chance.”

Their eyes met. Frustration. Regret. Hunger. Pain.

So much unsaid.

The elevator chimed.

The doors slid open.

And just like that, they stepped into the world again — two strangers bound by paperwork and past lives, each certain the other didn’t love them anymore.

But neither of them saw the way the other looked back when they thought no one was watching.

Maybe because they were afraid to look. Afraid that they would be disappointed once again.

After they left the company they made their way to the photo studio for the wedding photo. Even though it was just a contractual marriage the wedding photo was needed to make it look real.

The studio smelled like fresh roses and vintage perfume, and Elina had never felt more like a prop. She had only one word to describe her situation and that was manhandling.

The stylists swarmed around her, tugging at her waist, fluffing the delicate folds of her satin gown, pinning her hair with precision. The dress that was given to her by Oswal’s assistant was a gown—chosen by Cooper Global’s PR team—it was elegant, understated, and clinical. White, but joyless just like her marriage which was loveless. It felt like a costume for a role she hadn’t auditioned for and not like a wedding gown that most women crave for.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and hated how beautiful it looked on her.

Across the room, Oswal stood with the posture of a man who didn’t flinch, even when trapped in his own façade. The navy suit, the silver cufflinks, the glint of his family’s crest pinned near his lapel—it all screamed control. Power. Restraint.

Elina watched him through the mirror, and he watched her, their reflections the only place they were brave enough to truly look at each other. Oswal was stunned by her looks. She looked so beautiful that he wanted to walk straight to her and take her hand in his and announce to the whole world that she was his. But he was too scared. Afraid that she would hate him.

Once they both were ready. They heard “You’ll stand here,” the photographer instructed, gesturing toward a mock floral arch, complete with a symbolic aisle. “Hold hands. Closer, if you don’t mind.”

Oswal moved first.

He reached for her hand, and the brush of his skin against hers sent a silent tremor through her ribs. She hated that it still did this. Hated more that he probably felt nothing. She had thought that maybe she would be numb to the feelings by now but the reality was that he was able to make her heart tremble even today.

She wanted to pull away but his fingers closed a little too tightly around hers.

“Softer,” the photographer directed. They heard him instruct with a sigh “More warmth. You're newlyweds, not co-workers.”

When they heard the instructions the two quickly composed themselves.

Elina smiled.

So did Oswal.

They were perfect liars.

The flash went off.

After the first picture the cameraman continued

“Turn toward her, Mr. Cooper,” he called. “A little tilt of the head. Yes—gaze into her eyes.”

Elina pursed her lips at the instructions, she didn’t dare look at him. She felt him shift making her nerves tense. He was close now, too close.

“You’re tense,” he murmured next to her ear.

She fought the feeling of blood rushing to her ear and tilted her chin up looking dead into his eyes. “Maybe because this doesn’t feel real.”

His brow twitched, almost imperceptibly. “It is real. Just not the way it should have been.”

She blinked, heart stumbling. Her imagination runs wild. “Should have been?” Her thoughts are a jumbled mess wondering if he really wanted to marry her out of business or out of love?

He looked away and cleared his throat. “Nothing. Just smile.”

But the words hovered between them, heavier than the bouquet in her hand.

Should have been.

There had been a time, years ago, when she’d imagined her wedding to Oswal would be real. Messy. Loud. Filled with laughter and dancing. Not a sterile PR stunt under studio lights. But the reality was cruel. She did get a wedding but the warmth and the happiness was missing from it.

“Last shot,” the photographer said. “Kiss her forehead. Just a soft moment.”

They both turned stiff.

Oswal glanced at her, eyes unreadable. He wanted to simply pull her into his arms and kiss her the way he did before but he thought that he no longer had the authority to do that.

He softly said “I can skip that if—”

“No,” Elina interrupted. “Go ahead. Let’s give them what they want.”

Oswal moved closer, slowly, like he was unsure where the boundary was anymore.

His hand cradled the back of her head, and his lips brushed her forehead—barely there, but more honest than anything they’d said in the last hour.

Elina closed her eyes. Just for a second. Just to feel it.

But when she opened them again, something in her chest ached.

Because he still hadn’t said anything real.

And neither had she.

---

Backstage, after the shoot, Elina changed into a simple cream blouse and black trousers, removing the layers of illusion. She finally felt that the gown was way too heavy to her conscience as she never expected to get married to someone who doesn’t love her. When she emerged, Oswal was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone.

She was surprised to look at him waiting for her. She walked up to him and cooed “You waited?”

He looked up. “You’re my wife now. Temporary or not.”

“Right,” she said. “Chivalry for the cameras.”

“Not everything I do is for the cameras, Elina.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

He stared at her. “Why are you always assuming the worst of me?”

She crossed her arms. “Because you left without a word seven years ago.”

“I had reasons—”

“Don’t. Just… don’t say it.”

He stepped closer. “Then why did you say yes to this?”

She hesitated. “Because I needed the money.”

His expression flickered.

“You?”

She nodded, lying through her teeth. “You’re not the only one who knows how to make practical decisions.”

His jaw clenched. “Fine. Practical it is.”

And just like that, the moment passed.

He turned away. She did too.

But behind them, two hearts beat out of rhythm, each too proud to admit they still remembered every word ever left unsaid.

---

Once the two left their own ways. They made their way towards their apartment.

After Elina came back her phone chimed with a message from Oswal’s assistant informing her about a charity gala that she would be attending with Oswal.

When the time for the charity gala neared Elina walked down the stairs where she saw Oswal waiting for her outside his car.

When Oswal heard the sounds of her heels clicking he looked up and was stunned by how beautiful she looked. She still looked like the young girl whom he held in his arms seven years ago.

Oswal opened the car door for her like a gentleman and after she got in the two made their way towards the venue.

It was the kind of evening meant to dazzle—an elegant charity gala hosted in the heart of downtown, the city skyline glittering beyond the glass walls like something out of a dream. Elina adjusted the diamond clasp on her clutch as the car pulled up to the valet line. This was it—their first appearance as husband and wife.

Not real ones.

Just the kind that fooled headlines.

Oswal stepped out first, tall and composed beneath the soft glow of chandeliers spilling through the glass. He wore confidence like his suit—fitted, impenetrable, rehearsed.

Then he walked to the other side of the car and opened the door for her, hand outstretched.

When she saw him giving his hand for her for a second, Elina hesitated. Not because she didn’t want to take it—but because she did.

So badly.

With her chin high, she took his hand, her fingers slipping into his like it was second nature. They hadn’t touched like this in years, yet her body remembered. The way he used to intertwine their fingers beneath tables. The way he’d squeeze once when he was nervous.

She was feeling her heart flutter but after a few seconds, disappointment settled in her heart. The man in front of her was no longer the same boy who loved her passionately and held her hand with love. Now, it was just for the cameras.

But he didn’t let go when they walked past the flashes.

Inside, the gala was awash with socialites and investors. The kind of people who smiled too wide, drank too little, and asked far too many questions.

“Oswal, my boy!” An older man approached with a hearty handshake and too much cologne. He turned to look at Elina and smile slightly “And this must be your new bride. What a beauty!”

Elina smiled graciously. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

Oswal’s hand never left the small of her back. “She’s even lovelier when she’s not stealing the spotlight,” he said, teasing on the surface—but his thumb brushed against her spine for just a second too long.

She stiffened.

Don’t read into it, Elly. she said to herself

“Married life treating you well?” the man asked.

Oswal answered smoothly. “We’re adjusting. Learning each other’s quirks.”

“Like how he hates when I leave the toothpaste cap off,” Elina added, tone sweet but edged.

Oswal raised an eyebrow. “Or how she alphabetizes the spice rack.”

They laughed for the crowd. And maybe, for a second, it didn’t feel like a lie.

But as they drifted through the sea of guests, Elina caught the way Oswal’s smiles dimmed once backs were turned. How he kept checking his phone, like waiting for someone—or avoiding something.

Finally, in the quiet of the terrace, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“You hate this, don’t you?” she asked.

Oswal looked at her, startled. “What?”

“This,” she said, gesturing behind them. “The pretending. The people. Me.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t hate you.”

“No?” she challenged. “Because it sure feels like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

He looked away. “You think I’m the only one pretending tonight?”

The air between them snapped.

Elina folded her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He turned to her slowly. “It means you've hated me ever since I left. But you never once asked why.”

“Because it didn’t matter,” she said sharply. “You were gone.”

“I left,” he said, voice quiet, “because your father made it very clear what I had to lose.”

The words hung there, jagged and raw.

Elina blinked. “What?”

“He offered me a job overseas. With a condition: leave you. No goodbyes. No explanations.”

She stared, her eyes turning red. She couldn’t believe that he had left her for a job opportunity overseas. She hissed. “You said yes.”

“I thought I was protecting you.” he murmured

“No, Oswal. You were protecting yourself.” Elina’s eyes turned red. She was trying to hold back her tears. All these years there were many possibilities she had thought about but she never thought that he would leave her for a job opportunity abroad.

He stepped closer. “You think I didn’t want to fight for you? You were the only thing that made sense to me back then.”

“And now?”

His eyes locked with hers. “Now? You’re the only thing that still does.”

She swallowed hard.

But before she could speak, the terrace doors opened. A reporter with a camera called, “Mr. and Mrs. Cooper, a quick photo?”

Elina turned on her heels with a smile so perfect it ached. “Of course.”

She didn’t look back at Oswal.

Because she wasn’t sure she could.

She didn’t know if he had said that because he meant it or because he knew that there were reporters outside. She didn’t have the courage to ask.