There i was, standing in front of Cairo's unit like a mailman who forgot the actual mail.
Just holding a takeout menu in one hand and a pile of pride in the other.
Should i knock?
No, because… I'm not the suitor.
He is.
He's the one with the good bone structure and the emotionally repressed vibes.
I'm just the girl with a crushed ego and slightly smudged mascara. Balance!
But then again, what if he's waiting for me to ask? Like reverse psychology… or maybe reverse courting?
Oh my gosh, Alera, what are you even saying.
I exhaled dramatically like i was in an indie film. "Okay, maybe just one knock—"
And then i froze.
A voice.
A female voice.
Inside. Cairo's. Condo.
...
"HAHAHA! CAI, YOU'RE STILL SO SERIOUS!"
Oh no. No no no no.
Of course.
Of course it's Nadine.
The ghost of my emotional damage.
The villain in my romance movie.
The ant to my sugar cube.
I didn't even think. I just knocked.
And by knocked, I mean i nearly pounded the door down like it owed me money.
"Cairo, open this door! I know what's going on in there! I'm not blind! I'm not deaf! I'm not—well, okay, I am slightly irrational right now but that's beside the point!"
The door opened.
Cairo stood there, eyebrows slightly raised, holding a glass of water like he was in a casual ad for mineral hydration.
I didn't wait.
"You are cheating on me again!" I said, finger pointing, breath uneven, Oscar-worthy tear ducts prepped for takeoff.
Cairo blinked. "Again?"
"Well—no, not again. But emotionally! I can feel it! It's spiritual cheating!"
Then Nadine popped into the frame behind him, still holding a pillow like she was redecorating or something. "Hey, Elara."
I gasped. "Elara? Don't Elara me! Why are you flirting with my suitor?!"
Nadine didn't even flinch.
She looked at me, looked at Cairo, then rolled her eyes and said, "We're just friends, okay? Like childhood besties. Whatever happens with your love life is up to you two. You're grown—deal with it."
She brushed past me like this was a telenovela and she was the wiser older sister in Episode 57.
I turned to Cairo, offended on a spiritual level.
"What's so funny?" I asked, because, yes—he was LAUGHING.
Like—laughing.
The kind that involved shoulder-shaking and visible teeth.
"You," he said, still chuckling. "You're intense."
"I am not intense," I huffed, stepping into his condo like i owned all the trauma in the room. "I am dramatic. There's a difference."
He closed the door behind me. "You want dinner?"
"Oh, now you ask. I came here to ask you first, you know. But i hesitated. Because tradition. Because roles. Because patriarchy. But it's fine. It's so fine. Let's eat whatever Nadine left behind."
"She didn't cook," he said, walking toward the kitchen. "She just needed help carrying furniture."
"Sure," I muttered under my breath like a martyr.
He opened his fridge and began pulling out ingredients like nothing happened. "I'll cook something quick. Too late to go out."
I dropped my bag dramatically onto his couch and sighed like my heart had been set on fire and no one cared to bring a hose.
"I almost wore heels, Cairo. Heels."
He glanced at my white sneakers.
"Well, I almost wore them."
Dinner smelled like garlic and betrayal.
Cairo made garlic shrimp pasta. From scratch. With actual butter. It made it very hard to stay mad at him.
Especially when he plated it for me like a gentleman. Or like a man trying to win back my trust via carbohydrates.
"Thanks," I said, twirling my fork with the grace of someone who googled "how to flirt while eating."
He just nodded and sat across from me, munching quietly like this was a normal Wednesday and not a night of betrayal and borderline cheating.
I stared at him.
He stared at his plate.
I stared harder.
He finally looked up. "What?"
"You have something… on your lips," I said, lying confidently. "Right there. Left side."
He wiped the right.
"Nope," I said. "Other side."
He wiped again.
"Nope. Closer to the middle. Yeah. Just there."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "There's nothing there, is there?"
I shrugged, biting my lip. "Nope. But i wanted to kiss you so bad i made something up."
I leaned in.
And i kissed him.
Soft. Light. A peck really.
But then i froze.
I pulled back mid-kiss.
"Oh my gosh. I forgot. You're still… I'm still… I'm supposed to be letting you court me. Like… officially. I'm in my 'playing hard-to-get' era!"
I covered my mouth with both hands, mortified.
He laughed.
Like actually full-body laughed. Again!
"What's funny now!?"
"You," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You're like a rom-com on steroids."
"Well I'm trying to be mysterious and desirable!" I stood up, fully flustered. "And here i am breaking my own rules because you sautéed shrimp!"
"You're welcome," he said, still smirking.
I sighed, grabbing my tote bag. "I'm going home. I need to process my shame in private."
He followed me to the door, handing me a container. "Leftovers. In case you want to cry-eat."
"Thank you," I said, holding the container like a breakup trophy.
And just as i was stepping out of his unit—
"Ack!"
ARI.
In a full sweatsuit.
Carrying a bubble tea.
We both jumped like teens caught sneaking out.
"It's not what you think!" I said, hands up like a thief in a cartoon.
Ari raised an eyebrow. "Girl, as if i cared about your yoga blink blink."
"WE'RE NOT THERE YET, OKAY!" I shouted, fully red now.
Cairo was laughing behind me. Again.
"Shut up," I told him, shoving the container into his chest and stomping off toward my condo.
Ari followed me, sipping her drink like this was just another episode in my messy sitcom.
The moment we stepped into my condo, Ari gave me the same look he gives his overpriced oat milk when it turns out watery.
"This place still smells like heartbreak and essential oils," she said, flopping onto my couch like she owned the place.
"Please remove your shoes," I muttered halfheartedly, kicking mine off. "I'm trying to build a dignified environment now that i'm in the process of being courted."
"Courted?" Ari choked, grabbing a throw pillow and dramatically burying his face in it. "You literally just screamed 'you're cheating on me' to a man who isn't even your boyfriend."
"Because he is, emotionally," I snapped, flinging myself beside him. "We've held hands. We've shared rice. He cooked for me! That's basically prenup in my world."
"You're deranged," he said with full affection.
"No," I sat up straighter. "I'm just... misinterpreted by society."
Ari looked at me like he was mentally listing all my past offenses. "So let me get this straight. You asked him what you are, he said he likes you too, and now he's supposedly courting you?"
"Yes.But i told him he has to court me properly. Like… serenade me or whatever. With a guitar. Or a ukulele. I don't really know the rules."
"Girl," Ari paused. "You literally followed him home."
I gasped. "That's not the point."
He leaned forward. "What are you even expecting from him? A bouquet of bacon roses? A poem written on tissue paper?"
I blinked. "Okay, first of all, that sounds amazing."
Ari groaned.
"But look," I continued, twirling a strand of my hair. "This is all new to me. Boys… affection… feelings that aren't directed toward carbs. I'm confused."
"Well, I hate to break it to you," he said, "but being confused doesn't excuse acting like a clingy neck pillow on a budget airline. You need to chill. Let him chase a little. Let him… I don't know, earn it."
"I am letting him," I whispered. "That's why I'm not texting him. That's why i'm here, spending quality time with my wise and emotionally grounded best friend."
"You're only here because i caught you post-kiss in front of his door like a K-drama extra."
"Well," I sniffed. "Even extras get a few seconds of screentime."
Ari stood, arms crossed. "You wanna talk strategy or are we just gonna spiral?"
I dramatically placed a hand on my chest. "Spiral. Please."
She sighed. "Alright. Spiral it is. Tell me everything you're overthinking. Right now."
I clapped like an excited seal.
"Okay. First, what if he's only nice to me because i'm annoying and he feels bad for me? Like, what if he's just… enduring me?"
"Impossible. No one endures that much glitter and survives."
"Second, what if Nadine actually is into him, and they've had this secret connection all along? Like a tragic workplace romance?"
"Elara—"
"And what if," I continued, pacing like a detective in heels, "he kissed me back but didn't mean it? What if it was just reflex? Like when someone sneezes and you say 'bless you' even if you hate them?"
"Elara!"
I froze. "Yes?"
"You kissed him on the lips. That's not a sneeze. That's not a reflex. That's 'I'm-into-you' territory."
"Really?" I squeaked.
Ari softened a little. "Yes, you delulu drama queen. But if you keep acting like this is a teleserye, he's gonna think you're in love with the idea of being in love—not with him."
I slumped onto the couch again, defeated. "It's just… so much easier to be dramatic. It's who i am."
"I know," he smirked, throwing me another pillow. "But maybe… this time, try being real. Not everything has to be a scene."
"But I love scenes," I whimpered. "Scenes love me."
"Save it for the audition you missed," he teased, which sent a direct stab to my chest.
My hand flew to my heart. "Too soon."
We both burst into laughter until our stomachs hurt.
And in that moment, I forgot all about Cairo.
I was just Elara again.
Slightly heartbroken, mildly hysterical, and entirely ridiculous. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for tonight.