Chapter 29 #2
After lunch, we step outside. The breeze brushes my skin, carrying the scent of the sea and the city together.
We walk without hurry, the path stretching ahead, the skyline mirrored in the water beside us.
Our conversation slows, turns reflective, memories, pauses, and thoughts we usually keep tucked away.
There’s an ease here, unforced, like the city is permitting us to be honest.
“Rey, I’m really grateful to you for planning such a peaceful day out in Singapore,” she says softly. “It feels like walking through heaven. I’m really loving today.” Stars seem to light up in her eyes, and that alone makes everything worth it.
“I feel like I’m hanging out in heaven today,” I say lightly.
“What?”
“Just kidding, Ames.” I grin. “Let’s head to our last stop before dinner.” She hits my arm playfully, her attention shifting back to the scenery. The city shimmers around us alive, brilliant, but standing there, I realise something quietly certain. My heart knows peace only when I’m with her.
She is magic.
For sunset, we take the Singapore River Cruise. The boat glides away from Clarke Quay as the sky softens, blues melting into amber. Lights flicker along the riverbanks, their reflections stretching and breaking across the water. From here, the city feels quieter, less demanding, more forgiving.
Amyra stands beside me, close enough that our arms brush when the boat sways. Neither of us moves away. I rest my forearms on the railing, and after a moment, she leans in, her shoulder pressing lightly against mine. I turn to face her as her gaze lifts to meet mine.
Time to conduct a dangerous little survey, for my own sake.
“So,” I ask casually, though my heart trembles, “are you ready for a relationship now?”
“I’m only focused on my career right now, Rey,” she replies, irritation slipping into her tone. “I can’t believe you’re being nosy about my personal life just like society.” Guilt settles in immediately. I’ve crossed a line, and I need to learn my lesson.
“Sorry, Ames. I won’t ask again.” Still, the discomfort lingers. Her disinterest in relationships feels unsettling, like a quiet warning of rejection waiting in the future. Yet I cling to faith in what we share. Maybe that can change everything.
Our final stop is dinner at a riverside café in Boat Quay.
Amyra is busy chatting with Karan, asking if he can join us despite his hectic day. Initially, we planned to head back to the hotel for dinner, but I suggested this place instead, close to the river cruise.
“What did he say?” I ask.
“He can’t come here,” she replies. “But he wants to meet me to talk about something. He insisted we meet at Helix Bridge, near our hotel.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said yes.” Anxiety hits instantly, goosebumps rippling across my skin. Talking about something sounds dangerously vague, and I hope it’s nothing like what my mind is already racing toward.
We continue to eat dinner. Boat Quay glows under warm lights, the river calm and dark beside us.
We choose a small café by the water, candlelight flickering between us, casting soft shadows across her face.
The city noise fades into a distant hum, leaving us cocooned in something intimate.
Conversation flows, then slows. I find myself watching her, the way she traces the rim of her glass, the way she looks up when she senses my gaze.
Silence settles, not awkward, just expectant.
Despite the weight of the day, she still glistens like moonlight, ethereal, impossible to look away from. My gaze drifts to her lips, bare now, the pink faded, making them all the more tempting.
“Rey?” She tugs my arm gently. “I’ve been calling your name for minutes.” I blink back to reality. The day we shared has come to an end.
“Sorry. Let’s go.” The ride back to Marina Bay passes in comfortable silence, my attention fixed on her until the glowing curve of Helix Bridge comes into view.
The bridge arches over the water, steel spirals lit against the night sky.
After a brief call with Karan, we spot him waiting at a distance.
“How was your day? Had dinner?” Amyra asks.
“Yes. It was tiring,” he says, “but seeing you helps. Can we stroll and talk?”
“In private.” He stresses the last word, his gaze flicking toward me. Amyra understands immediately. She leans closer and whispers in my ear.
“Can you step away for a few minutes? You can even head back to the hotel. We’ll be back soon—”
“I’ll wait in the cab,” I interrupt quietly. “Call me when you’re done.” I glance once at Karan before turning away, a dull ache spreading through my chest as worst-case scenarios crowd my mind. What could require a private conversation?
It’s not about work, so it must be personal. Is this his love confession?
I know she’ll reject him… but there’s always that tiny, terrifying chance she won’t.
How can he let himself fall for her again, after she made her disinterest clear from the very beginning, and especially after rejecting him once?
Love really is a curse for those trapped in unrequited feelings, and the pain it carries is just as merciless.