After talking in his room, Liam excused himself to grab a glass of water, leaving Miya behind, busy exploring his things.
As he walked down the stairs, he noticed the living room was unusually quiet. But as he neared the kitchen, voices grew louder, coming from the dining area where his parents were seated with Miya's parents.
He hesitated at the doorway, choosing to stay at the side. Then he heard his name.
"You know, Liam," Miya's father said, his voice low but firm, "we can never forget what we did to help back then. If it weren't for us, your family might not have had a home even now."
Liam's father went silent for a moment before replying. "Yes… we will always remember that debt of gratitude."
"But we made an agreement back then," Miya's mother interjected. "When Liam and Miya are of age, they would be destined for each other. That's why we gave you that house—to ensure that their future would be secure."
Liam's eyes widened. What?! The weight in the room suddenly pressed on him.
He almost dropped the glass in his hand as he heard his mother's trembling, defensive voice.
"I know. But… we haven't told Liam yet. We were afraid he'd be angry. We didn't want him to feel that we were deciding his fate for him."
Miya's father spoke again. "But the agreement exists. It can't just be ignored. Our family helped yours in the hardest time. Now is the time to honor that promise."
Liam gripped the glass tightly, fire seeming to ignite in his chest. He wanted to step in, to ask questions, but he couldn't. Instead, he listened, heart pounding.
"We're not saying we don't want Miya," his father said softly. "She's important to us, like our own child. But you know Liam… he has his own mind. And besides…"
He paused, then continued cautiously, "…he's already building a closeness with Freya."
Silence fell. No one moved for several seconds, until Miya's mother spoke again.
"But it's not Freya who was helped back then. Freya doesn't owe us. Miya does. And that's how it's supposed to be."
Every word echoed in Liam's mind. It felt as if he was being pulled back into the past—back to the day they first moved, when they had nothing, and how Miya's family had reached out. Now, it felt like he was bound to a promise he never agreed to.
He slowly stepped back, careful not to make a sound. His hand shook around the glass. Forget drinking water—he turned and went straight back to his room.
When he opened the door, Miya was still there, sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling as if nothing had happened.
"Oh, you're back. Took you long," she said casually.
Liam forced a smile, though inside he felt everything unraveling. "Ah… yeah, just had something to take care of."
"You know, Liam," Miya said, picking up one of his books again, "I'm really happy to be here again. Just like before. I hope… we can always be like this."
Liam didn't answer immediately. He stared at Miya, but in his mind was Freya—her smile, the thrill of the hairpins, her heartfelt words: "I like you too, Liam."
And that night, he realized: he was caught between two worlds. One, filled with memories of obligation and debt. The other, overflowing with genuine feelings and the truth of his heart.