Beyond the paper walls

All work, no play

"For the last time, Maya, I'm not interested in your engagement party or what flowers you want for your bouquet."

My sister, getting engaged to the so-called love of her life, has been bugging me about this for three months now. I was over it.

"That's because you don't have anyone to pick flowers for," she shot back, slipping in her favorite reminder that I'd been single for too long.

"Yes, and?"

"And... nothing. I'm mad at you now. Enjoy your stupid presentations and all those boring faces you see in every meeting. Bye!"

With that, she cut the call. For the record, my meetings are not boring. I love pushing my employees' nerves to the edge and watching them hustle day and night for that one shot at impressing me. Obviously, they never do. No one can, no one has-that's why I'm still single at thirty-two. While everyone else has kids in kindergarten, I'm out here trying to balance my screwed-up sleep schedule with my workaholic life.

I was working when my phone pinged with a message from my mom

Mom: You're late for dinner.

Me: Yeah... I'm working.

Mom: Do you ever even stop?

Me: Absolutely not.

Mom: I want you here in 15. That's an order. 😘

Me: Okay. 😑

Just because I love her, my mom has this power to order me around, and today was one of those days. A family dinner had been scheduled with Maya's in-laws, plus her boyfriend-no, scratch that, the love of her life.

My mom's place was in the countryside-beautiful and peaceful. I didn't come around much, but whenever I did, I felt an unexpected sense of calm. New York had me running nonstop, so my mom's New Jersey home was the best escape.

Of course, I was late for dinner. The moment I walked into the living room, everyone looked at me like I'd committed a crime. After greeting everyone, I took my seat at the table, trying not to notice Maya's judgmental look.

"How's work going, Aria?" Maya's future mother-in-law asked, trying to pull me into a conversation when all I wanted was a moment of silence. Somehow, every one of them always found a way to poke at me.

"It's good," I answered curtly, hoping to shut it down. But Maya kicked me under the table. I swear, this woman would never let me have a moment of peace.

"Anything new going on?" she pressed.

"Oh, just Maya marrying the love of her life and me working to win the Businesswoman of the Decade award. It's pretty important for my company," I replied, keeping my tone polite.

"That's wonderful! I'm sure you'll win." Then, as if on cue, she added, "Any chance you've found someone special recently?"

Of course. Somehow, it always circled back into my love life.

"Uh...no," I said, forcing a smile. "I'm quite busy with business deals, as I mentioned."

"Oh, I know a guy who-"

"Thanks, but I'm really not interested in meeting anyone right now," I interrupted quickly.

Just as I thought I'd shut down the conversation, my mom chimed in. "I think you should consider it. You're not getting any younger."

"Older? Really, Mom?"

"I mean, you could use some company," she said, unfazed, "so I can stop worrying about whether you've eaten or not."

God, they all had some obsession with reminding me of my so-called single status.

"It's not like I haven't tried," I shot back. "I just haven't found anyone worth it."

"So you're saying you've traveled to all these places, worked with countless people, and still haven't found a single person worth the shot?" my mom challenged, her eyebrows raised .

"I think that's enough of a reminder for today, Mom," I countered back.

Then, to my relief, my usually quiet father saved me by saying, "Leave her alone...if she doesn't want it, don't force it." He gave me a slight smile.

The rest of dinner passed in a haze as we discussed the engagement preparations and venue for the party.

"I'm so excited for Sunday!" Maya said, practically bouncing in her seat like a kid.

"Yeah, that's four days away," I muttered. "Calm down, please."

After the dinner mess, I finally went home.

I fumbled with my keys, trying to open the door to my rooftop apartment. It was exactly the kind of place I'd always wanted-big, airy, everything anyone could want. But somehow, it was the last place I felt like being. I still hadn't figured out why.

The apartment was big enough for six people, but here I was, living alone. I changed into my PJs and threw myself onto the couch, grabbing my laptop. Working was easier than trying to sleep, which I never felt like doing, anyway.

Was I an insomniac? Yes. Did I do anything about it? Absolutely not.

------------------🌷-----------------

The rooftop was dressed to impress-fairy lights hung overhead, their warm glow softening everything, including my nerves. They stretched out in delicate strands above the tables, which were draped in ivory linens and topped with white lilies and blush roses. The glass walls framed the city skyline, which looked almost unreal as dusk fell, a mix of sharp lights and shadows under the evening sky. There was a calm breeze moving through the space, lifting the subtle scent of flowers with it. It was beautiful... even if I wasn't sure I wanted to be here.

And then, of course, there was me-dressed by Maya, who'd made it her mission to shove me into a blue silk dress. The fabric was impossibly smooth, clinging just enough without feeling tight. It flared out just above my ankles, giving the whole thing a classic, almost understated look, which was very much on purpose. I'd managed to convince her to keep things simple, settling on a single strand of pearls around my neck. The whole look felt... strange, almost out of character, because I wasn't used to dresses like this; all I wore were business suits day in and day out.

The setup was incredible, though. Maya had clearly poured her heart into every detail, and I couldn't deny she'd done a great job. The ambiance was grand yet somehow intimate, everything styled to perfection, and I found myself relaxing a bit as I took it all in. It was just one night, after all.

The ceremony kicked off with a lineup of people singing praises about Maya and her fiancé. One by one, friends and family stepped up, talking about how they were "so in love" and how their love was "meant to be" and "unbreakable." It was as if the whole crowd believed Maya and her fiancé were characters in some grand romance novel, complete with endless passion and an unshakable bond. I nearly rolled my eyes but held back, letting them have their moment.

I was in the middle of catching up with an old college friend, indulging in actual conversation, when suddenly, someone "accidentally" spilled a glass of orange juice all over my dress.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Not only did I dislike these kinds of gatherings, but they had a strange way of confirming all my suspicions about people's knack for spoiling the mood. Mission accomplished, thanks to Miss Juice Spill.

I turned to make a quick exit, weaving through the crowd and around the corner to find a washroom. Just as I thought I was in the clear, I walked smack into someone's chest-a chest that felt as hard as stone.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice deep and a bit raspy. He rested a hand on my shoulder, looking me over as if checking me for any damage.

I looked up and froze. There he was. Someone I hadn't seen in six years, someone I thought I'd buried in my past. He wasn't an ex, technically-I never had one. But he hurt me more than any guy ever did, not that he knew it. Because, as always, I left before he could see me vulnerable. And no, it wasn't my fault. Nothing's ever my fault.