The "bachelor night" had started with the promise of peace. Ken had sworn there'd be no chaos, no strippers, no drunken madness — "just food, drinks, and brotherhood."
Five hours in, Aaron realised that "brotherhood" apparently meant being roasted alive by every man in the room.
Ken clinked his beer bottle against Aaron's untouched glass of whiskey. "You're supposed to celebrate, man. You look like you're about to go to confession."
Aaron leaned back on the couch, expression flat. "I'm fine."
"You've been checking your phone every five minutes," Ken said. "You're not fine. You're suffering from a severe case of separation anxiety."
Aaron didn't even try to argue. He glanced at his phone again, checking the screen like it might magically summon a text from Mina. Nothing. He sighed quietly, thumb hovering near her chat window.
Ken groaned. "Bro, she's literally across town at her bachelorette party, not storming a rival's compound. Relax."
Aaron looked up. "It's been seven hours."
The entire table went silent.
Ken blinked. "Seven—Aaron, you're acting like she's been gone for seven years."
Aaron poured himself another drink. "Ellie's with her. What if they're both tired? What if she didn't eat?"
Ken facepalmed. "You're hopeless."
Another friend, Marcus, laughed. "Man's acting like his wife went to war, not a slumber party with balloons."
Aaron ignored them. His phone buzzed — a notification. He straightened immediately, heart racing — but it was just Ken tagging him in an embarrassing old photo.
Ken snorted. "Caught in 4K."
Aaron glared at him. "You have too much free time."
"Actually," Ken said, grinning, "I have the right amount of time to remind you that this is your last night of bachelorhood. You could be doing anything — gambling, drinking, celebrating freedom — but here you are, sulking like a man whose favourite teddy bear got taken away."
Aaron shot him a cold look, but his ears had gone pink. "She's not a teddy bear."
Ken leaned back, laughing. "Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, lover boy."
Aaron's phone buzzed again. This time, it was Mina — a picture of Ellie with a cupcake smeared all over her face. His whole expression softened instantly.
Ken caught the look and groaned. "God, he's gone."
Aaron smirked faintly, typing back: Missed you, princesa. Both of you.
Ken threw a pillow at him. "Unbelievable. You're the only man in history who's in a relationship and whipped before the wedding even happens."
Aaron didn't even deny it. His eyes were still on the photo, that small, private smile curving his mouth.
"She's worth it," he said simply.
Ken rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the grin that followed. "Yeah, I know. Just don't start crying when she texts you goodnight."
Aaron took another sip of whiskey and muttered, "Depends on how many emojis she uses."