Just two days remained before

D-day, and Mandes Estate was already in full motion. The mansion buzzed with people determined to execute the party flawlessly. Designers, stylists, makeup artists, photographers—everyone moved with urgency, each convinced they knew what was best.

Even Luna was not spared.

She was wrapped in measuring tapes and face masks, surrounded by voices suggesting the perfect look, the perfect dress, the perfect pose, even the perfect way she should carry herself, she barely had a moment to breathe—let alone think.

Though she herself had not yet decided anything, the household had already declared her the lady of the house. Her preferences were sought for food, décor, desserts—everything. Decisions were placed in her hands before she had fully realized she was holding them.

Rebecca and Teresa felt painfully out of place. They stood there uselessly, unsure of where to look or how to help. They were not polished, not trained for this world of elegance and excess. All they could do was stare with wide, unblinking eyes—too overwhelmed to even imagine what the actual wedding might look like if this was only a party.

Luna, however, did not complain.
The chaos around her gave her something rare: the chance to exist entirely in the present. There was no space to dwell on the past, no time to fear the future.
To the outside world, it was overwhelming—borderline madness.
But to Luna, it was strangely soothing.

Like a drug, the relentless bustle dulled the ache in her chest, lulling her restless mind and inner turmoil into a deep, deceptive comfort.

A familiar melody suddenly filled the room, playing loudly enough to seize Luna’s attention.

Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes
Some things, you know, are meant to be…

Her breath caught.

Before the song could continue, it was abruptly stopped.

Luna’s eyes lifted and met Malcolm’s. He was still on his phone, his expression unreadable. A moment later, he disconnected the call and turned toward her.

She rose from her chair almost instinctively, as if pulled by an invisible thread, and began walking toward him.

They moved toward each other across the wide room, eyes locked, words unnecessary—something unspoken passing between them.
Malcolm stopped in his tracks.

Does she remember?
Maybe not. Don’t get your hopes up, Malcolm. She might just be walking casually.

But Luna didn’t stop.
She crossed the corridor, closing the distance until she stood only an arm’s length away, still holding his gaze.

“And what if I don’t fall in love with you?”
Her voice was soft—barely more than a breath.

“Then I’ll make sure you do,” Malcolm replied quietly.
“Just like I’ve fallen in love with you…”

A pause.

“You remember,” he whispered.

“I remember.”

Tears welled in both their eyes as they looked at each other.

For the first time since regaining consciousness, Luna had remembered something—not from her distant past, not from her teenage years, not of Alex—but of herself as an adult.

The music had unlocked it all.

Fragments rushed in—their first lunch together, their engagement, the trip on Malcolm’s cruise.

Not complete memories, but scattered pieces: reading side by side, quiet conversations, a picnic where Malcolm arrived dressed as if for a board meeting—sitting awkwardly in a three-piece suit, trying his best to belong in that moment with her.

She remembered how clumsily, yet sincerely, he had tried to win her affection.

Luna couldn’t say she had ever been in love with him.
But she knew this much—
He was more than a friend.
And perhaps, always had been.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Luna found herself humming a song.

She didn’t have all the answers. Tomorrow was still uncertain. But knowing that Malcolm had been a real part of her life—something tangible, something true—felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the dark clouds that had loomed over her for so long.

Tomorrow was a big day. She still didn’t know what she would do when it arrived.
But today… today she wanted to hold on to this small, fragile happiness she had found.

She couldn’t afford to lose something so rare and precious as relief.

So she decided to stay in the present moment, refusing to let her thoughts wander any further.

Suddenly, a Bible verse surfaced in her mind—one she didn’t even realize she knew:

Let tomorrow worry about itself.
Each day has enough trouble of its own.

That was enough.

Instead of exhausting herself with questions, she chose to face whatever would come—when it came.

And for today, she made a decision.

She would cook.

Chicken xacuti with freshly made bread rolls.

Malcolm’s favorite.

She wanted to surprise him.
Rolling up her sleeves, Luna marched into the kitchen. After much argument with the chef and kitchen staff, she finally managed to convince them to let her cook—on the condition that they would assist her if needed.

She carefully gathered every spice, making sure not a single one was forgotten. Somehow, her hands remembered the recipe perfectly, following each step with quiet devotion. She wanted the dish to be perfect—not for praise, but to show Malcolm how grateful she was. For his patience. For his presence. For never leaving her side.

She called him and insisted he come home for lunch.

And, as always, Malcolm complied.

The moment he stepped into the house, the rich aroma of his favorite dish wrapped around him. It carried him back to his school days—those rare, lucky afternoons when he would return home to this very smell waiting for him.

He didn’t waste a second trying to find its source.

But before he could take another step, Luna grabbed his hand and gently pulled him toward the back garden.

A table stood there, set beautifully for just the two of them.

Malcolm stopped, stunned.

He had never imagined a day like this—being on the receiving end of a surprise planned by Luna. It had always been him initiating things, arranging moments, hoping to make her smile.

For the first time, she had taken the initiative.

And he was grateful—to her, and silently, to Mr. Malhotra for canceling their meeting at the last minute.

Now, he could simply be here.

And enjoy this rare, precious moment.