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Refusing To Be His Perfect Replica, I Choose The Arranged Marriag by BlueMoone

Chapter 5
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Chapter 5 The transatlantic flight carriedeastward, the sun painting ever changing portraits outside my window. Brilliant azure skies gave way to rolling clouds tinged with gold, a canvas of nature's finest work Inspiration struck suddenly, and I pulled out my sketchpad, capturing the ethereal play of light in a n jewelry design.

By the tI finished, darkness had claimed the sky.

There was something magical about crossing the Atlantic - a ttraveler's journey where I left New York on the morning of the 27th only to land in London on the night of the 26th.

Through the arrivals gate, I spotted them immediately - Mum, Dad, and William standing in a row, beaming and waving like excited children at a parade.

The sight of them made my heart squeeze.

I ran to them, wheeling designer luggage forgotten as I fell into Mum's embrace, breathing in her familiar perf- Chanel No. 5, just as she'd worn all my life.

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-Eight years ago, I'd defied their wishes and moved to New York for university, chasing what I'd thought was love.

Though they'd disapproved, they'd letgo, trustingto find my way.

Those eight years had been punctuated by brief Christmas visits, a daughter's absence marked by empty chairs at Sunday roasts and missed family celebrations.

Tears threatened, and I pulled back from Mum's embrace before they could fall.

"Mum, I'm starving." "Let's get you home, darling." She cupped my face, her eyes soft with maternal concern. "Tll make your favorite - shepherd's pie with extra gravy, just how you like it." "Perfect." I linked arms with both my parents as we walked to the car park, our laughter echoing through the terminal.

Chapter 5 Meanwhile, across the ocean in his Manhattan penthouse, Castro faced a very different scene.

Castro sat on the Italian marble floor, repeatedly calling a number he knew wouldn't answer.

Every year, he'd meticulously set a reminder for my birthday - August 27th. This morning, the alert had woken him in Oriana's guest room, the familiar chcutting through his dreams.

His first instinct had been to head to Whole Foods, to buy ingredients for the birthday dinner he'd planned.

The custom Cartier bracelet he'd ordered months ago was still hidden in his office safe.

But seeing Oriana at breakfast, limping slightly, had given him pause. After all, I still hadn't apologized.

He couldn't understand it. I'd always been the reasonable one why was I being so stubborn this time? After spending half the day restlessly checking his phone at Oriana's, he finally headed home.

The moment he stepped into the penthouse, he felt like he'd walked into a stranger's home. He actually stepped back out, checked the apartment number, and re-entered.

The space had reverted to its pre-Aveline state- stark, minimalist, cold.

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In a frenzy, he searched every room for traces of me. The vintage Polaroids from Paris, gone Them sketchbook I kept by the window seat, vanished. The coffee machine he'd bought because I couldn't function without my morning latte- replaced with his old French press. "What the hell is happening?" he whispered, frantically dialing my number only to be greeted by voicemail.

His Instagram messages bounced back-blocked. Whatshowed one grey tick, then nothing.

If not for the ghost of my perfstill lingering in the closet, he might have thought he'd imagined the last seven years.

In desperation, he opened Find My Friends - thewe'd used to surprise each other with lunch dates.

My location was dark, but the history showed one last ping from two m weeks ago. I'd cwithin a hundred feet of his location, hesitated, then disappeared.

Something clicked in his mind. He pulled up his calendar, scrolling back. When he saw the date his iPhone shipped from his trembling fingers, the screen shattering like the illusion of our relationship. Chapter Chapter 6