I stepped out of the cab and what I saw was enough to leave me speechless. The hotel rose before me like a statement of glass, steel, and light. Every inch of it deliberate, expensive, and unapologetic. It wasn't just big; it was the kind of big that reminded you exactly where you stood in the world. "Damn," I muttered under my breath in amazement. And to think that this was Ethan's hotel that was just completed and was yet to be open to the public—Abigail had mentioned it casually like it was nothing. But knowing and seeing were two very different things.
This wasn't just success; this was power. The hotel stretched across acres of land, its exterior washed in warm light that glinted against polished marble and glass. I swallowed as I forced myself to move again, my heels clicking softly against the pavement as I approached the entrance. Rows and rows of cars, parked neatly under the watchful eyes of the valets in tailored suits. Bentleys, Mercedes-Benz, a Lamborghini that looked so clean it might have rolled straight out of a showroom. More Mercedes than I could count, their logos catching the light like silver hearts.
My chest tightened; I had arrived in a cab, not because I wanted to, but because my car had refused to start that afternoon. The engine coughing like it had finally given up, I had stood there for a long time staring at it, calculating whether fixing it this month would mean skipping something else: school fees, rent, or groceries. In the end, I had simply ordered a cab. Now standing here, I felt the difference acutely. Like everyone else belonged to a higher class and for a moment I felt glad I didn't bring my Toyota car of mine. It would have been sticking out like a sore thumb in the midst of these luxury cars.
A valet offered a polite nod as I passed, his gaze respectful but impersonal. I hugged my jacket slightly closer, suddenly feeling the cool night air. At the entrance, uniformed staff stood in quiet efficiency, directing guests with practiced smiles.
"Good evening ma'am. The reunion is being held in the east ballroom," a staff said politely.
I thanked him softly and followed the signs, my steps slowing as I crossed the threshold into the hotel. The interior of the hotel stole my breath in a way the exterior hadn't.
It was quieter inside, marble floors stretched endlessly beneath warm lighting. Chandeliers hanging like restrained luxury rather loud displays—Everything gleamed without trying too hard, like it knew exactly what it was worth. It spelt quiet luxury.
The closer I got to the supposed location, the more I heard the soft music and laughter.
As I stood before the door, I took a deep breath and straightened my dress before stepping into the ballroom. Laughter spilled from every corner, glasses clinked, the music hummed softly beneath conversations. At a glance, I picked out faces I hadn't seen in years—some unchanged, some sharper, and some so different I couldn't recognize them.
It was surreal how easy I could recognize them. They all looked glam—glamorous. Like life had settled into them nicely.
I smoothed my hand over my dress instinctively. It was simple. A black, body-hugging gown that shimmered my frame and fell to my ankles. Nothing loud, just enough to remind myself I belonged here too. My heels were modest, my bag small and structured.
But as I stood there, glancing at everyone, I suddenly felt underdressed. Flamboyant dresses glittered under the lights. Men in perfectly fitted suits laughed easily.
The ladies were dressed in flashy designer dresses that glittered under the light and the men dressed in tailored expensive suits.
For a brief second, I considered turning around, leaving quietly, and pretending I had never shown up. At that moment, I heard my name "Amara!" I looked up just in time to see Abigail weaving through the crowd walking towards me, her face lighting up with relief. "There you are," she said, grabbing my arm before I could think anything. "I thought you had disappeared again," she said as she dragged me toward a table near the center of the room before I could protest.
There were two people already seated at the table. I recognized Daniel, Abigail's fiancé, almost immediately and the girl who was beside him also looked familiar but I couldn't seem to remember her name.
Daniel stood up immediately when we got to the table. "Amara?" His face broke into a wide grin. "Wow, it's really you." He stepped forward and hugged me warmly, surprising me with how natural it felt. "It's been forever," he added. "You look good."
"Thank you," I said smiling back, a little caught off guard by his friendliness. It had been years, but he didn't seem to have changed much. He was still as friendly as he was before, warm and easy-going. To be honest, he now looked mature and handsome. Settling into my seat, I watched Abigail go and seat beside Daniel and just by the way they interacted and the way they looked at each other I just knew they were a perfect fit. They complemented each other.
Looking away from the couple, I turned towards the other familiar face as we exchanged pleasantries. I finally remembered her: Lara, one of the quieter girls from school.
"So, I heard you just got back," Lara said. "Are you staying this time?"
"Yes," I replied carefully, "for now."
She nodded as we drifted into light talk: work, travels, while the couple in front of us were busy in a conversation of their own.
We were still talking when the atmosphere in the room shifted. Heads turned, conversations dipped, and heels clicked louder than necessary. I looked towards the source of commotion. There they stood at the entrance.
Ethan, dressed in a black tailored suit, looking every bit as suave as ever. He exuded presence, the quiet, kind but still able to command attention. And beside him, clinging to his arms like she was scared people won't know they had come together was Zainab. She was dressed in a black dress that was clinging shamelessly to her every curve, fabric shimmering under the lights. It was revealing, dramatic, and unmistakably intentional. Her makeup was flawless, her hair styled to perfection. She was overdressed and extra, just like she had always been. As I looked at the two who were making their way into the ballroom, my stomach tightened. I turned my face away instinctively to maintain a low profile. From the corner of my eyes, I saw them make their way to a table not far from where I was seated.
It took a moment before the party returned to how it was as the chattering and laughter continued.
Daniel excused himself from our table as he made his way towards his friend Ethan's table, and I also saw Zainab leave Ethan's table just as Daniel arrived and made her way to her friends' table.
I took a sip of the glass of water in a bid to calm myself as I tried my best to keep a low profile, but the universe had other plans. I saw Zainab and her friend throwing glances at my table, particularly at me, as they whispered among themselves. A quiet dread settled in my chest at what the thought of what this night might still have in store for me.