C25

I'm at the supermarket, craving some fruit. As I stand in front of the apple stall, ready to make a selection, a feminine hand catches my attention. I hesitated and withdrew my hand, turning away when she spoke.

"Are you Zack's ex or something?" Her question stops me in my tracks. It's her, the girl I saw in the parking lot when Zack proposed. She's the one. There's a certain ethereal quality about her; her fair skin and beauty make me feel slightly inadequate. It's no wonder Zack chose her over us.

"Hello?" I meet her gaze and then glance away.

"I need to go," I mumble and start walking. She seems persistent, following me.

"Hey, wait," she says, grabbing my arm. She's so beautiful; her accent is American. I feel like pinching her.

"I'm asking you," she continues.

"Yes is my answer. If you don't mind, I need to leave. I don't want any trouble with you. We're over, and I'm not desperate to win him back from you. I've seen enough. He chose you, and you're going to be his wife. I'm content living peacefully," I explain, my voice tinged with resignation. I brush her arm off mine and continue walking, but someone blocks my path. I know it's him just by his shoes. I try to evade him, but he persists.

"Honey," his voice calls out, and I close my eyes, recognizing it. Suddenly, his girlfriend is beside me.

"She's really friendly. I like her," she comments, and I look at her, then at Zack.

"I need to go, please," I insist, trying to remove his hand from mine, but he won't let go.

"Ah, hon, could you wait for me outside? I just need to talk to her," he asks his girlfriend. I shake my head and look away. Zack follows him, and before they both leave, Zack speaks to me again.

"I want your help, please," he pleads. I don't meet his eyes.

"Please, I just want to be your friend," he says with a smile.

"I'm sorry, but it's awkward. Please, stop making it difficult for me," I reply, and he releases his girlfriend's arm. I notice her bowing apologetically, and I feel a pang of guilt for pushing her away.

"I'm... sorry," I murmur softly to her. When Zack looks at me, his eyes are glistening with tears.

"I just wanted to be your friend. Is that so hard?" he asks, his voice cracking. I bow my head.

"Yes, it is. So please, understand," I tell him. He looks at me, clearly conflicted.

"How? Zack's mother wants to meet you, and for her happiness, I need you to come with us," he explains.

"Tell his mother that it's already settled. Please, stop this," I implore, turning away. But he still clings to my hand, unwilling to let go.

"Let's grab a snack then," he suggests, pulling me toward a restaurant. When we arrive, Zack is already there. He makes me sit next to him, but I stand up and move to a seat far away from them. Despite the distance, we're all at the same table.

"Let's eat," his girlfriend says, as the food is served. It's all my favorite dishes, but I can't eat. I just stare at the food, watching them exchange whispers. I stand up abruptly, and his girlfriend asks where I'm going.

"Somewhere without a couple flirting," I respond, walking away.

"Zack, stop it!" I hear him yell, and I push him away as I help Zary stand. Zack's anger is unbearable.

"What, Zack? Are you crazy?" I scold him, before assisting Zary.

"Are you alright?" I ask Zary, concerned. He nods and smiles.

"Why are you two kissing?" Zack's voice cuts through the air, and I furrow my brow.

"What are you talking about, kissing?" I look at Zary, puzzled.

"I saw you in the car earlier," Zack accuses. Is that why Zary was counting earlier? Was he provoking Zack?

"Zack, we weren't kissing, and I'm not so heartless as to destroy a family. He was just giving me a ride, and why are you so aggressive? We're not together anymore, remember?" I confront him, but his expression shifts as he looks at me. I turn to leave, but his grip on my arm tightens.

"What is it?" I struggle to free myself, but he's strong. We reach his car, and he pushes me in before I can resist. My seatbelt secures me tightly, and I realize we're driving fast.

"Are you kidnapping me? Seriously, Zack, stop it! Let me out!" I protest, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he accelerates until he stops at a motel.

A motel? What are we doing here?

"Zack, why are we at a motel?" He parks the car and turns to me.

"Zack?" At the reception desk, I remain silent, not wanting to embarrass him.

"One room, please. Your best room," he addresses the receptionist, who beams at him.

"Zack, please," I plead, but he ignores me.

"Can I have your ID, sir?" he's asked. He glances at me.

"I didn't bring mine. Give me yours," he extends his hand. I reluctantly retrieve my ID from my bag and hand it to the receptionist.

"Okay, one night, sir?" she asks.

"Yes."

"Okay, sir, here's the total for the room," she hands him a bill, which he pays. We're given the key.

"Room 01, our finest room. Enjoy your stay," she says cheerfully.

He turns to me. "Let's go." He leads me toward the room, his grip unyielding.

"Zack?" I try again.

"Monic, please, just be quiet," he snaps, his irritation evident.