Could It Be You? |✓

Prologue

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I'd kindly advise you against rushing anything. The truth reveals itself ultimately.

And just when you believe that some things are unrelated, I'd tell you to look them over again.

- Collin

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2013 - Alice's Wedding

       "Emma, I'd like you to meet my new girlfriend."

       Emma spews out the expensive champagne which she just sipped and stares at Ethan incredulously. 

       "What?"

        Ethan laughs, picks out a napkin from the table and dabs Emma's mouth hastily giving her the ultimate daddy-daughter treatment. (He isn't her daddy, by the way, not in any connotation.) 

       "C'mon, let's meet her." Ethan removes the champagne flute from Emma's grasp and conveniently places it onto the tray of a passing waiter. He takes Emma's hand into his naturally and leads her down the ballroom.

       They meander through the guests at her younger sister's wedding banquet, where everyone is absorbed in their polite discourses. Weddings aren't normal affairs, after all. Not only is it a joyous occasion for the couple in question, it is also an opportunity for everyone to keep up-to-date with gossips. It unfortunately also puts undue pressure on those who aren't hitting the altar just yet. Just a moment ago, Ethan had helpfully extracted her from a suffocating conversation with the elders, one that centres on the captivating topic of her singlehood, a conversation that regrettably recurs with greater frequency as she ages. Last she checked, Ethan, her friend, has been in the same predicament as she and so Emma does not follow his declaration that he has gotten hitched within just ... 20 minutes. 

       They step outside the ballroom and head toward the adjacent one where some sort of celebrity event is happening simultaneously. Ethan points discreetly to a tall and slim woman in an elegant red dress, whose hair is tied neatly into an up-do with stray locks falling down the sides of her face. She chats with some noticeable big-shot-looking executives in pantsuits and Emma gasps slightly noticing who it is - isn't she the nameless Daneige model? The brand of makeup she's actually wearing right at the moment?

       "Her name's Sarah," Ethan whispers. "Yeah, we just met. We chatted a bit just now, we danced, I got her number, I asked her out on a date, she said yes."

       "No way," Emma deadpans. She is positive that Ethan is out of his mind. 

       "Yes way. You know how things are these days - fast and furious is the only way to get the girl," he replies smoothly. "We're going on a date next Saturday."

       "Let me get this straight. She's not your girlfriend yet, but you're fantasising that she is." 

       "Shush, it'll happen. We clearly have got chemistry." 

       He jabs her playfully and Emma side-eyes him, critical and judging. He obviously fell for her looks. But no matter - she figures he can use his time more wisely now, once he exits their single persons' pity party. There's no reason why she shouldn't be generous with her blessings for her best friend of so many years. 

       "Great job, Ethan. Have her send some of her sponsored cosmetics to me, will you, once you get the girl?" Emma hisses, feeling tetchy all of a sudden.  

       The model has an infectious smile as she engages in friendly banter with her clique. It isn't long before she catches sight of them, and this Sarah girl gives Ethan an acknowledgement. She starts heading their direction, and Emma pulls the most generous wing-woman move of all.

       "I think I need to use the restroom." Emma excuses herself with a bright smile. She rushes away, paying no heed to Ethan's concerned calls behind her. In her moment of trance and carelessness, she bumps into a person, causing him to spill his drink all over her.

       "Hey, so sorry about the blunder. Are you okay?" he asks. The gentleman in a white tuxedo quickly grabs a pile of napkins and reaches out. He tries to help her dab away the stains, but she pushes his hands aside. 

       "Leave it, it's okay." She sighs and heads straight for the restroom, although she never really intended to go there earlier.

      She pulls out a long roll of toilet paper and pats at the chest where the dampness is spreading across the fabric. She looks herself in the mirror, her earlier jubilant mood clearly dissipated. There is an oddly hollow feeling in her when she thinks about all that transpired. She brushes the feeling aside; it can't possibly be. 

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Dedicated to jennisonsilverye for introducing to me this site in the first place, and for being so supportive when I first posted this story in 2015, and also, for being a true friend. 

Hello folks, how are you today? Thank you so so much for stopping by! I hope this story has piqued your interest, because I have a few twists in store for you. :)