The clouds hung low over Kuala Lumpur, the sky a dull, leaden gray. Ryan stood outside Emily's apartment, holding two cups of warm milk tea and a packet of nasi lemak. The rain from the night before hadn't stopped, and a thin layer of water coated the street, reflecting his tired face.
They had sat in silence on those tall stools in the convenience store last night, and yet this morning, he still remembered her favorite flavors.
The door opened. Emily was still in her pajamas, her hair messily tied up. A flicker of emotion passed through her eyes when she saw him, but she said nothing and simply stepped aside.
"You're up early," she said, taking the tea, her voice husky.
"I wanted to talk before you see Lucas."
They sat at the small round table. Steam curled up from their breakfast, mirroring the uncertainty between them.
"Do you think he suspects anything?" Emily asked softly.
"I'm not sure," Ryan shook his head. "He knows something's going on, but he hasn't confronted me."
Emily was quiet for a moment, her fingertip tapping the cup. "How was his attitude?"
"Surprisingly calm," Ryan gave a wry smile. "He didn't say if he believed it or not—just that he wanted to 'understand things clearly.'"
She didn't reply, only took a slow sip of her milk tea.
The air grew heavy, like the pressure before a storm.
"If you had the chance to walk away now," she asked suddenly, "would you?"
Ryan didn't answer right away. He looked into her eyes—eyes he once only gazed at for the sake of pretense, but which now pulled at something painfully real.
"No," he said.
She looked down, as if in relief—or maybe more confusion. "I... don't know."
That answer hit like a stone in his gut.
...
Before getting in the car, he opened the door for her, then walked around to the driver's side. They drove in silence toward Lucas's office in Damansara Heights. It wasn't far—but it felt like heading to judgment.
Raindrops streaked down the windshield, distorting the cityscape into blurred shadows. Ryan gripped the steering wheel, his thoughts adrift.
—I just wanted to escape.
Escape from Kai's betrayal I couldn't confirm. Escape from Lucas's endless "for your own good" control.
I thought this fake marriage would be a collaboration, a performance. I wanted Kai to see what he'd lost—if only a little. And I wanted to prove to Lucas that I could live without his script.
But I didn't expect to grow close to her.
Emily was checking emails in the passenger seat, occasionally tapping her phone. Ryan glanced at her—
And suddenly, he remembered how serious she looked yesterday while tasting food. That rare moment of peace in his memory.
"We can't mess this up," he murmured.
"I know," she replied, eyes still on her phone.
"He'll test us today."
"I know."
They exchanged a look. Not just an agreement—but an unspoken connection neither dared name.
...
The lights in Lucas's office were on. His silhouette stood straight behind the window.
Ryan reached for Emily's hand. "Ready?"
She took a deep breath and nodded. "Whatever happens, remember—this is our choice."
Ryan pushed open the door. The rain was shut out the moment it closed.
Lucas stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his black shirt neatly pressed, his gaze sharp as ever. He turned, eyes briefly landing on their joined hands. His voice was calm, without a ripple:
"Shall we begin."
He sat like a prosecutor before a trial, flipping open a folder. No small talk, no pleasantries.
"When did you two first meet?"
"Junior year of university," Ryan answered.
"First time meeting one-on-one?"
"An off-campus model exhibition after urban planning class," Emily replied steadily.
"What do you like most about him?" Lucas turned to Emily.
She paused briefly, then said, "He's a good cook. And... he never forces me to change."
"And what do you dislike about her?" Lucas looked at Ryan.
"She's too independent," Ryan said with a faint smile. "Sometimes I can't tell what she's thinking."
Lucas nodded, as if jotting mental notes.
He stood and walked to the window, back to them. "What if I told you the two of you had to live apart for six months?"
"We'd make it work," Emily answered.
Lucas didn't turn around, but his tone turned sharp. "And what if you're just putting on a show—are you prepared for the consequences of a marriage built on a lie?"
The air tensed.
Ryan looked at Emily.
"I've already said it," he said quietly. "This isn't a performance anymore."
Under the table, Emily's hands clenched.
Lucas turned, his eyes cold but laced with a new kind of scrutiny. He slowly gathered the documents.
"I still don't believe this is real," he said.
"We're not asking you to," Emily replied calmly.
The tension spiked.
Lucas suddenly leaned forward, his voice low: "Tell me, Emily—do you love him?"
Emily froze.
She looked at Ryan. His eyes held a quiet, desperate hope.
She bit her lip and, after a pause, said, "I don't know if it's love... but I'm not lying to him."
Ryan let out a breath but said nothing.
Lucas leaned back, perhaps satisfied—or perhaps unmoved.
"Fine," he said. "We have a meeting with an immigration lawyer this Friday. If you're still this firm then, I might believe it a little."
"You won't test us again?" Ryan asked.
Lucas looked at him, expression unreadable. "If you can't hold it together now, marriage won't save you."
Emily whispered, "We'll hold it together."
Lucas stared at them for a long moment, then closed the folder. "Meeting's over."
They got up and walked toward the door.
As it clicked shut behind them, Emily finally let go of her breath.
"Did we just... pass?" Ryan whispered in the elevator.
Emily didn't answer. She stared at her reflection in the polished door.
The eyes that looked back weren't the same ones that began this performance just to escape.