The sharp ring of the phone sliced through the calm of Natalie's studio apartment, splintering the silence into shards of anticipation. Her green eyes flickered with curiosity as she pressed the device to her ear.

"Natalie, honey," came her mother Sofia's voice, soft yet brimming with barely contained excitement. "I'm getting married. I want you here in Canada with me."

"Mom, that's... incredible." Natalie's reply was a cocktail of shock and delight, her heart performing an unsteady pirouette.

"Please say you'll come," Sofia pressed, her words lacing through the miles that separated them.

"Of course, Mom. I wouldn't miss it for the world," Natalie assured her. She ended the call, her heart tap-dancing against her ribs. Turning to Daisy, who was perched on the edge of their second-hand couch, she managed a smile.

"Canada, huh?" Daisy's eyes were twin pools of encouragement.

"Canada." The word felt foreign on Natalie's tongue. With a suitcase half-full and a promise hanging between them, Natalie pulled Daisy into a tight embrace.

"Go get 'em, Natty," Daisy whispered, her voice both a cheer and a lament.

"Take care, Nat. I will miss you," Daisy said, hovering in the doorway, her tone playfully stern as Natalie zipped up her luggage. Her roommate's dark curls bobbed as she crossed her arms over her chest, a mock pout playing on her lips.

"Yes, ofcourse, I will miss you too," Natalie replied, grinning as she hugged Daisy, the warmth between them as comforting as the familiar clutter of their shared space. "Look after my plants, will you? And no wild parties while I'm gone."

"Only the wildest," Daisy winked, her laughter chasing Natalie out the door.

The leave-taking was a blur—a taxi ride punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of windshield wipers and the city lights blurring into streaks of color as they sped towards the airport.

~

The wedding venue was a masterpiece of elegance, each detail meticulously curated, from the ivory roses to the gilded chairs that lined the aisle. Natalie stepped into the grand ballroom, her senses awash with the scent of peonies and the soft hum of a string quartet. She smoothed the fabric of her lavender dress, fingers tracing the delicate lace at the hem.

The scent of rich gravy and roasted meats enveloped Natalie as she entered the grand dining room of Arthur Anderson's mansion. It was a space designed to intimidate, with high ceilings and walls adorned with portraits of stern ancestors.

"Ah, Natalie! You've arrived." Sofia swept across the room, her joy undiminished by the opulent surroundings. Everything about her mother seemed brighter, more alive.

"Mom, this is incredible," Natalie breathed out, allowing herself to be drawn into another hug.

"Everyone, this is my daughter, Natalie," Sofia announced with pride. A chorus of acknowledgement rippled through the room, but one voice cut through the din.

"Nat?" That singular syllable, laced with disbelief, anchored Natalie to the spot.

Then she saw him. Clyde Anderson. His athletic frame was encased in a light blue long sleeve his broad shoulders, brown eyes glinting with that same carefree spark that had once drawn her in like a moth to flame.

Clyde Anderson stood up, his chair scraping back against the polished wood floor. His deep brown eyes fixed on her with a familiar intensity.

"Hello, Clyde." Her voice was steady, betraying none of the turmoil that churned within her.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Natalie." Clyde's voice was the same smooth melody that whispered through her memories.

"Arthur's your father?" she gasped, a frown creasing her brow as she pieced together the familial connection that had eluded her until now.

"Small world, isn't it?" His grin held a shadow of the mischief she knew all too well.

"Too small," Natalie muttered under her breath, her gaze inadvertently drifting to Eleanor. The woman beside Clyde was the epitome of grace, blonde waves cascading over her shoulders like molten gold. Poise radiated from her like sunlight, and Natalie felt a twinge of something she couldn't place—envy or perhaps regret.

"By the way, this is Eleanor, my fiancee," Clyde introduce his fiancee.

"Hello, nice meeting you," Eleanor smile as she open wide her hand to handshake with her.

"Nice meeting you too. Congrats on the engagement," Natalie managed to say, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions brewing within.

"Thank you." Eleanor answer with a sweet smile.

"Eleanor is quite the catch, isn't she?" Clyde's arm found its way around Eleanor's waist, his touch seeming to claim ownership.

"Indeed." The word tasted of vinegar on Natalie's tongue, but she forced a smile. Inside, she battled the rising tide of old feelings and newfound revelations.

"Thank you, Natalie." Eleanor's voice was smooth, a well-rehearsed melody of social grace. "It's going to be a beautiful partnership."

Partnership. The word echoed strangely in Natalie's ears. Was there room for love in such a transaction?

As dinner progressed, Natalie found herself observing this new family tableau, the lines of connection and expectation drawn as clearly as the architectural plans she so often worked with. With each forkful of food, she fortified herself against the revelation of the evening.

"Let's toast to new beginnings," Arthur said, raising his glass. The words were meant to celebrate, yet for Natalie, they signaled the start of something wholly unexpected—a journey that would require all her determination to face what lay ahead.

Natalie's heels clicked against the marble floor, a staccato heartbeat racing with her pulse. The grand hall blossomed with flowers and opulence, a garden of elegance and secrets. She wove through clusters of guests like a ghost adrift, feeling Clyde's presence lingering in her wake—a perfume that clung too tightly.

"Miss Lewis?"

The voice was deep, rich with authority. Natalie turned, her eyes lifting to meet those of Kenzo Anderson. He stood like an oak among saplings, dark hair framing a face chiseled from brooding thoughts and moonlit whispers. Kenzo was the older brother of Clyde and who will be her step brother too.

Unlike his younger brother Clyde, Kenzo had an air of seriousness that seemed almost out of place amidst the festivity. He was the embodiment of intellect and composure, with dark hair swept back from his forehead, revealing piercing blue eyes that held hers with an intensity that quickened her pulse.

"Kenzo," she said, recognition dawning. "I—"

"Stay away from Clyde." His words were not a request but a command, delivered with the certainty of winter's first frost.

"Excuse me?" Natalie's brows knit together, green eyes flashing. How dare he?

"Your past... it's complicated. And Clyde—" He paused, piercing blue eyes searching hers. "He has a talent for disruption."

"Complicated is an understatement," she shot back, hands finding the refuge of her hips. "But I'm not the one weaving into his life; he's the one unraveling into mine."

Kenzo's gaze held steady, unblinking. "Eleanor doesn't deserve the fallout."

"Neither does me," Natalie retorted, the words slicing the air between them. Her heart hammered—a wild thing caught in the snare of his intensity.

"Then we are in agreement." A muscle twitched in Kenzo's jaw.

"Hardly," she huffed, her resolve as taut as the strings of a violin. His presence enveloped her, a storm dressed in a suit. "I didn't ask for this, Kenzo. Any of it."

"Life rarely asks permission," he replied, a note of something softer playing beneath the surface.

"Still, I have my rights." She lifted her chin, defiance painting her features with its bold hues. "I won't be bullied by Clyde's indecision or your... protective instincts."

"Protection isn't always a cage, Natalie. Sometimes it's a shield." His gaze softened, revealing cracks in his armor.

"Maybe so," she conceded, her voice a murmur lost in the swell of string music cascading from hidden speakers. "But I don't need a knight, Kenzo. I need space."

"Space can be arranged." He stepped back, the distance between them stretching like the evening shadows.

As he walked away, she felt the weight of his stare, a touch without contact. Natalie exhaled slowly, her mother's laughter echoing from across the room—the soundtrack to a tale still unfolding.

~

The golden glow of twilight bathed the wedding venue in a dreamy luminescence as the party swelled to life. Natalie Lewis perched on a high stool at the bar counter, her elegant cocktail dress hugging her figure with understated grace.

They twirled, they chatted, they laughed, they drank...and they danced. The hall was filled with the sound of heels clicking against the floor, the gentle swish of gowns brushing against suits. The smell of flowers and champagne wafted through the room as if painted by a master artist. The strings of the orchestra played softly in the background, adding to the romantic ambiance.

Natalie found herself seated at the bar counter alone, her green eyes fixed on the dance floor. There, she watched Clyde and his fiancée Eleanor gliding effortlessly to the sweet melody that filled the room.

"Another glass of wine, please," she requested, her voice barely audible over the din of the celebration.

Natalie couldn't quite put a finger on how she felt, seeing her ex-boyfriend so happy after he had vanished without a trace when she refused to sleep with him. It was as if a whirlwind of emotions raged inside her: jealousy, disappointment, even a sense of loss. She tried to drown out these feelings with alcohol, hoping it would numb the pain.

"Here you are, miss," the bartender said, sliding a full glass towards her.

"Thank you," she replied, not taking her gaze off the dancing couple.

Their bodies moved in sync as they swayed to the music, their hands intertwined, their smiles never fading. She took a sip of her drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. It barely quelled the fire burning within her.

She remembered when it was just the two of them like this, lost in each other's eyes, dancing under the stars. Now he was here with someone else, about to marry someone else. Jealousy bubbled up, but she pushed it down. She had moved on, right?

As if sensing her presence, Clyde turned his head slightly in her direction, their gazes locking for a fleeting moment. Their eyes met; she felt his warmth, his tenderness. But then he turned back to Eleanor, who was beaming at him adoringly.

It hurt - it always did. She took another gulp of her drink, the liquor burning its way down her throat. Her mind raced with memories of their past together - the laughter, the love, the passion. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the present and escape to their happier times.

Feeling the need for a distraction, Natalie stumbled onto the dance floor, swaying to the music.

"Care to dance?" A stranger asks her.

"Yes," she answered it with a smile.

A stranger took her hand and spun her around, their bodies moving in sync to the rhythm. In that moment, she let go, lost in the embrace of the music and the warmth of another person.

"Hey," Kenzo's deep voice broke through the haze. His piercing blue eyes were filled with concern as he grabbed Natalie's arm, pulling her away from the stranger. "I think you've had enough."

"Let me be, Kenzo," she slurred, trying to break free from his grip. "Just one more dance."

"Sit down, Natalie," he commanded, guiding her back to the bar counter.