Aliana's phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with Arman's name. She stared at it for a moment, her thumb hovering over the green icon, but something in her chest twisted. Instead, she pressed the screen off and slipped the phone back into her bag like she was hiding something she didn't want to face.
From the driver's seat, Joseph watched the whole thing. Her movements were slow, deliberate — almost ritualistic, as she took out the leather diary she always carried, opened it, and tucked something inside. He frowned, leaning a little to the side to see what it was but couldn't see it.
He got out of the car, curiosity plain on his face. "So," he said, his tone casual but edged with interest, "have you confirmed it yet?"
Aliana looked up from the diary, her expression cool, almost too calm. "Not yet," she said lightly, closing the book. "But I will. Soon."
The wind had turned sharp; it brushed against her hair, making her rub her arms absentmindedly. Joseph noticed and shrugged off his jacket. "Guess I should try acting like a gentleman for once," he said, and then threw it across her shoulders, His perfume scatering around her and the moment it reached her, something clicked. A faint flicker of déjà vu swept through her mind, a memory she couldn't quite place, This had happened before. A memeory clocked before her eyes it was too quick making her shoot her eyes at Jospeh. He too had a mild surprised frown between his brows as if something had hit him at the same moment.
"Has this..." she started to say something but before she could, her phone rang again.
The sound sliced the silence clean in half. She blinked hard, reality rushing back, and glanced at the screen. Arman. Again.
Her lips pressed together as she hit "ignore" and shoved the phone back into her bag.
And then,
"So this is the guy you left with?"
The voice came from behind her, sharp and cold.
Aliana froze, She didn't have to turn to know who it was.
Joseph's brow arched, eyes flicking past Aliana. Arman stood a few feet away, jaw tight, his stare fixed on the jacket resting around her shoulders.
"Do you know him?" Joseph asked. Before she could answer, he added, tone dipped in mock disappointment, "Oh, is he the one who stood you up? Tsk. Mr. Arman doesn't seem to know how to treat a lady right."
His voice carried a teasing charm, but the undertone was sharp. Aliana realized instantly—Joseph already knew who Arman was.
"Thank you for today, Mr. Alabaster," she said, her tone polite but distant.
"Just a thank you?" He smirked.
"Well, next time I'll treat you to something good." Aliana said forcing a smile.
"Like a kiss?" Joseph leaned slightly closer, biting his lip the way a man knew would get a reaction. Aliana froze, unsure how to respond.
Before she could, Arman stepped forward. His hand caught her arm, firm but controlled, pulling her slightly behind him. In the same breath, he tugged Joseph's jacket off her shoulders and threw it back toward him with a single flick.
"Stay away from my fiancée," he said, voice low and edged with warning.
Joseph caught the jacket midair, grin tugging at his lips. "Didn't know you had one," he said smoothly, eyes drifting past Arman to meet Aliana's. "Don't forget to tell me how it turns out, Miss Little Pink Diary."
Despite herself, Aliana let out a quiet laugh. Joseph really was impossible.
But Arman turned sharply at the sound. "You're laughing? Do you even know what time it is?" His tone cut through the cool air. "You left without telling me."
"Why? Only you can stand me up?" Her voice came out tight, shaking slightly. "Don't act like you care."
She turned to leave, but Arman caught her arm again—not harshly, just enough to stop her. "Why were you with that man? He's not a good person, Aliana. Stay away from him."
She met his eyes, her anger burning low beneath the surface. "And you are?" she asked quietly. "I'll go home on my own. You don't have to pretend to worry."
"Your mother called me," he said.
"She called you that day too. Did you care then?" Her words trembled, but her voice didn't break. "Just leave me alone, Arman."
His jaw locked. "I said come with me."
She ignored him and started walking. But she didn't get far.
The next thing she knew, her feet left the ground. A sharp gasp escaped her throat as Arman lifted her easily into his arms.
"Arman, have you lost your mind? Put me down!"
He looked straight ahead, eyes unreadable. "I won't."
She struggled, hitting his chest once, but his grip didn't falter. His expression was calm too calm and that only made her pulse quicken.
In a few strides, they reached his car. He opened the door with one hand and set her down in the passenger seat like she weighed nothing. Her breath hitched as he leaned over her, the space between them filled with his scent—something clean and sharp, cedar and rain.
He pulled the seatbelt across her, his knuckles brushing the edge of her collarbone as he clicked it into place. Her chest rose and fell, her eyes locked on him the whole time.
"Arman…" she started, her voice barely there.
He didn't answer. He walked around the car, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The heater hummed to life.
Then he reached forward, took her cold hands in his, and pressed them gently over the vent. His palms covered hers completely.
"Your hands are freezing," he said quietly, without looking at her.
The warmth from the heater spread through their fingers and she felt like her heart did a backflip. This was weird.