"Don't worry, you're staying here," I said, cutting her off before she could continue. My hand reached for her cold one. "I'll get you a towel and my most comfortable pajamas. You'll sleep in my room, like always."

"But, Judith... this..." Gabriella looked down, her voice trembling with doubt. "I don't feel right staying over at the house of a couple who just got engaged. This is your special night."

I gripped her cold hand tightly, forcing her to look into my eyes. My smile was soft but firm. "Are you listening to me, Gaby? You're not an outsider. You're family." Then, I turned to Nicholas, who had been standing quietly beside me. "Honey, Gaby is staying over tonight. That's okay, right?"

Nicholas immediately smiled with an understanding face. "Of course it is, Honey. Gaby is your best friend, and that makes her your family. And everything that is yours, is mine too." He then turned to Gabriella with a warm smile. "This house is your house too, Gaby."

The days passed smoothly, filled with happiness. It turned out Gaby didn't stay for just one night, but it continued for a full week. Her father, as I suspected, was still not someone she could face. I was happy to be her safe harbor, just as she had always been mine.

On a bright Sunday morning, I took her to my usual boutique to accompany me as I tried on a few wedding dress choices. Sitting on the plush sofa, watching me change dresses behind the fitting room curtain, Gaby suddenly started a conversation.

"So, I finally agreed to meet the guy I met on that dating app," she said, smiling with a blushing face. I could detect a tremor of nervousness in her voice. I didn't know about this man, and my heart was a little anxious. After her bitter experiences with her father, I always worried about what kind of man would catch her attention.

"Seriously? You finally have a boyfriend too!" I replied, trying to hide my worry behind an enthusiastic tone. Because previously, she had almost never dated any men, given her trauma from her parents' broken home. "Tell me all the details later, don't leave anything out."

"Of course!" Gabriella nodded cheerfully. "By the way, when are you planning to get married?"

"In the winter, specifically on the thirteenth," I answered.

"That's in three months? But wait, why the thirteenth?" she asked.

"I heard the number thirteen is the most avoided by couples, you know."

"Why? Is it some kind of sacred number like people say?" I said, turning my body in the dress in front of the mirror. I don't believe in things like that.

"More like an unlucky number," Gabriella squinted her eyes. And I just smiled.

In the afternoon, after finishing at the boutique and parting ways with Gabriella who had to work at her small studio, I headed off to bring lunch to Nicholas at his office. Bringing him lunch had become a small routine I enjoyed, a simple moment to see him amidst his busy schedule as a financial analyst.

As the car stopped at a red light, the image of Kenny suddenly crept back into my mind. I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I shook my head to drive the image away, trying to focus on the image of Nicholas smiling as he would greet me later.

"I'd like to see Nicholas," I said to the receptionist behind her desk. As an outsider, I obviously didn't have access to just enter the office area. The rules here were strict. All visitors had to wait in the lobby.

"I'd like to deliver this food to him personally, as his fiancée," I added, half-hoping that mentioning my status would make her let me go upstairs.

"Please just leave it here, we'll deliver it upstairs for Nicholas," the receptionist answered with a professional smile.

"No, I want to give it to him directly. I... miss him," I said, half-joking, half-honest, hoping to soften her up.

The receptionist looked hesitant, her gaze shifting between me and the guest book.

"Let her through. She's with me."

That voice came from behind my shoulder, deep and authoritative. I felt like I recognized it. When I turned, my breath caught. There stood Kenny, in a perfect suit that emphasized his dominant aura. My heart immediately started pounding erratically, like a drum being beaten uncontrollably in my chest.

"M-Mr. Kenny," the receptionist stammered, her attitude instantly becoming very respectful.

Kenny didn't address me directly. His sharp blue eyes swept towards the receptionist, then moved to the food bag in my hand, and finally settled back on me. One of his eyebrows rose slightly, as if saying, 'So we meet again here.'

"She's with me," he repeated, his voice softer this time, yet it felt more piercing.

I stood rigidly in the narrow elevator, accompanied by the one person I didn't want to meet alone like this. The silence was torturous, broken only by the faint hiss of the AC and the frantic beating of my heart like a war drum. Both my hands clutched the bag containing Nicholas's lunch tightly, as if it were a shield that could protect me from the man across from me.

Meanwhile, Kenny looked calm—too calm. One hand in his trouser pocket, while his stone-blue eyes stared straight at the steel doors without expression. He was like a perfect, cold statue, completely untouched by the anxiety slowly gnawing at me.

Suddenly, with an ear-splitting screech, the elevator jerked to a sudden stop. A small jolt made me stumble, and before I could react, the light above flickered for a moment before going out completely, leaving us in the dim glow of the emergency light from the corner of the floor. I looked panicked at the control panel next to the door. All the indicator lights were dead, except one—the number 13, glowing a blinding red, like a warning sign.

In the now thicker silence, my breathing sounded heavy. And in that quiet, I realized one thing: I was trapped. With Kenny.

"No..." I hissed, a tightness in my chest that wasn't just from the confined space.

"Calm down," Kenny's voice came flatly from across.

"No... not that..." My breath was already starting to make a sound, a faint, all-too-familiar and frightening hiss. My hands trembled as I fumbled in my small bag, searching for my rescue inhaler. It wasn't there. I had left it in the car, tucked in my jacket.

"Asthma?" Kenny asked, his tone shifting, more alert.

I could only nod weakly, trying to take a deep breath that only ended in a cough and more ragged gasps. The world around me began to spin. My knees felt weak, and my body slumped to the cold elevator floor.

Damn.

My chest felt like it was being strangled from the inside. Every breath was heavy, painful, and hollow. No air was coming in. My body shook.

Kenny was already moving. His steps were quick, almost silent on the metal floor. I could feel his presence getting closer.

"Hey. Look at me." His hands held my shoulders. His voice wasn't as calm as before. "Can you hear me?"

I tried to nod, but the world was blurring. The elevator walls seemed to recede, while the sound of my own wheezing breath roared in my ears like waves crashing inside my head.

I felt my body sway—and before I could hit the floor, his arm caught me. I knew it was Kenny because of his scent—cold, clean, like rain on metal.

I heard a muffled murmur. Words that were no longer clear. Just a low vibration near my ear. Then something warm touched the nape of my neck.

"Trust me," he said.

I didn't know what he meant, but there was no time to ask. In the haze between consciousness and unconsciousness, I felt him lean towards me.

Then—warmth. Soft. His lips.

I was shocked, but my body was too weak to react. Warm air flowed into my lungs, feeling like a surge of life refusing to leave. It felt strange—suffocating yet saving.

He breathed into me again, with a careful rhythm, forcing me to breathe along, to stay alive. Each time the air entered, my chest felt sore but opened slightly.

I tried to look at him, but my vision was spinning. I barely caught a glimpse of his firm jawline, his trembling eyelashes, and the tense blue glint in his eyes between his breaths.

I wanted to say something—about how insane this all was—but my lips could only move weakly. Darkness began to cloud my vision. The sound of my breathing weakened.

The last thing I remembered was the sound of my own heartbeat, and the warm pressure of Kenny's hand still supporting my back, keeping me from falling deeper.

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