''Where are you taking me?'' I whisper, ''We are getting engaged in 3 days?'' I nearly snap with confusion.

Irwin stops; he puts his tie in my mouth and carries me to the car. I am way too stunned to speak. I feel like I am in a Mafia movie, being kidnapped by the King, but the thing is I am already dating him. My mind stops functioning. All that I can see is his Adam's apple looking so seducing. He looks at me with a smirk as if reading my mind. He removes the tie from my mouth and whispers,

''You don't have to worry, your highness. I am already your man.''

I couldn't help but blush, and the goosebumps on my hands were vivid as he grabs me by my waist and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. The scene unfolds like a surreal moment, blurring the boundaries between reality and fantasy. Irwin's unconventional and mysterious actions add an element of surprise and romance. The tie in my mouth symbolizes both a playful and assertive gesture, creating a sense of anticipation for what's to come. I sit quietly by his side as the engine roars to life.

Today has been a hectic day. I am so tired from all those meetings, and I am so hungry.

I look at Irwin with a pout and gesture towards my tummy.

''Those puppy eyes are adorable,'' he says as he pulls my cheek softly.

''I'm still waiting for an answer, Feed me; I'm hungry,'' I said.

My voice carries a mix of exhaustion and playfulness, creating a moment of vulnerability and lightheartedness.

''My little piggy,'' he chuckles as he stops the car.

''You didn't dare again,'' I said with a mischievous voice as I unlock my seat belt and jump on his lap.

Taken by surprise, his eyes widened, ''What's your intention?'' he asked.

''What do you think it is?'' I said as I pull his tie closer to me.

As I moved closer to him, the soft shuffle of his hair under my fingertips creating a tender connection. The dim glow of the streetlight outside filtered through the window, casting shadows that danced across the walls. Our faces leaned in, drawn together by an invisible force, when suddenly, the familiar ringtone shattered the serene moment. Confusion clouded our eyes as we pulled away, the headlight of the parked car outside now turned off, leaving us in a dimly lit silence. The only illumination came from the light of his phone, reflecting on my face like a subtle glow.

His eyes met mine with an apologetic look, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected interruption. With a sigh, he reached for his phone, the cheerful expression on his face transforming into one of darkness and sorrow as he answered the call. The conversation unfolded in a series of muted exchanges, and the joy in his eyes slowly ebbed away, replaced by a cold and distant emptiness. As he cut off the call, a heavy silence lingered in the air.

"Abelia, I will talk to you later, I need to go," he said, his voice now devoid of its earlier warmth.

He opened the door for me to walk to my apartment, but before I could take a step, I couldn't help but ask, "But, what happened?"

"Just go," he replied, his tone icy and dismissive. I walked away, the sudden pain in my chest mirroring the cold atmosphere that had settled between us. The door closed behind me, leaving me alone in the quiet hallway, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

As I walked to my apartment, the cool night air seemed to amplify the heaviness in my chest. The hallway felt lonelier than ever, and the echoes of his cold words lingered in my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted in that brief phone call. Entering my apartment, I closed the door behind me, the sound echoing like a somber punctuation to the evening. I paced the room, my mind racing with questions and concerns. What had transpired on the other end of that call? The once-prominent joy that illuminated his eyes had given way to a darkness I couldn't comprehend.

My phone buzzed with a text notification, and my heart skipped a beat. I hoped it was him, ready to explain and share the burden of whatever had transpired. Yet, it was a message from him, terse and cryptic. "Sorry for the sudden change. Can't talk now. Take care."

The words left me even more bewildered, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I tried to decipher the message, but it offered no clarity. The room felt colder, the warmth of the earlier connection replaced by a chilling uncertainty. I couldn't ignore the gnawing ache within me. Against my better judgment, I decided to reach out, dialing his number. The ringing seemed to stretch on indefinitely until it abruptly stopped, and his voice, now devoid of its usual cheerfulness, answered.

"What's going on?" I asked, unable to conceal the concern in my voice.

There was a heavy pause, and then he spoke, his words measured and strained. "I can't explain everything now, Abelia. It's complicated. We'll talk, but not tonight. I need some time."

The call ended abruptly, leaving me alone in the hushed emptiness of my apartment. The weight of the unspoken hung in the air, and I couldn't shake the feeling that our shared moment had been a brief respite before an unexpected storm. The hours stretched on in a torturous silence. I found myself staring out of the window, the city lights blurred into a sea of uncertainty. The unanswered questions and the abrupt shift in his demeanor replayed in my mind like a haunting refrain.

As the night wore on, my phone remained silent, and the apartment felt emptier than ever. Sleep eluded me, and I couldn't shake the worry that had taken root in my thoughts. I replayed our interaction, searching for clues in the fragments of the evening.

The following morning, with a heavy heart, I decided to reach out again. I sent a message, attempting to navigate the delicate balance between concern and respect for his need for space. "Hey, whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here. Just hoping you're okay."

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, a reply appeared on my screen. "Thanks, Abelia. It's complicated, and I need some time to sort things out. I'll explain when I can."

The vague response provided little solace, leaving me in a state of suspended uncertainty. The day unfolded in a haze, my mind constantly returning to the enigmatic phone call and the abrupt change in his demeanor. I tried to occupy myself with mundane tasks, but the worry weighed on me like an anchor. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city, my phone buzzed with a call. Tentatively, I answered, bracing myself for the conversation that awaited. His voice, though still tinged with an undertone of sadness, held a hint of reassurance.

"Abelia, I owe you an explanation. It's personal, and I didn't want to burden you last night. There's been a family emergency, and I had to leave abruptly."

A mixture of relief and empathy washed over me as he shared the details. His words carried the weight of the situation, and suddenly, the mysterious distance from the night before began to make sense.

"I'm sorry for the way I handled it," he continued, sincerity evident in his voice.

"I didn't want to involve you in the chaos. But I appreciate your understanding."

As the conversation unfolded, a sense of understanding settled between us. Life's unexpected turns had thrust us into a moment of uncertainty, but the sincerity in his voice reassured me that, despite the initial turbulence, our connection remained resilient. The revelation of the family emergency left me torn between empathy for his situation and the lingering unease from the abrupt way he had distanced himself. As he continued to explain, I sensed a growing chasm, not just in our physical proximity but in the emotional distance that had silently crept into our relationship.

"I understand," I replied, my voice carrying a mixture of sympathy and resignation. "Family comes first. I wish you all the strength and support you need during this time."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then he spoke, his words heavy with a difficult truth. "Abelia, I think it's best if we take a break. I don't want to drag you into the complexities of my life right now. It wouldn't be fair to you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a sudden and unexpected blow. "A break?" I repeated, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I need to focus on my family, and I can't give you the attention and care you deserve. It's not fair to keep you waiting in the shadows while I deal with all this."

The realization hit me like a tidal wave, the warmth of the connection we had shared replaced by a cold and stark reality. "But we can get through this together," I pleaded, the desperation seeping into my voice.

"I appreciate that, Abelia. But I need time to figure things out, and I don't want to string you along. It's not fair to either of us," he explained, his words hanging in the air like an irreversible verdict.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and the lump in my throat made it difficult to respond. "I thought we had something real," I managed to say, the vulnerability laid bare in my words.

"We did," he replied, a painful sincerity in his voice. "But life has a way of changing things, and right now, I need to prioritize my family."

As the call ended, a heavy silence settled over me. The room that had once felt warm and filled with possibilities now seemed cold and empty. The family emergency had not only disrupted our night but had torn apart the delicate fabric of our connection, leaving me standing on the precipice of a heartbreak I hadn't seen coming.