One Last Fling Before I Settle

POV Ruby

With Alex, it had always been easy—since as far back as I can remember. But it didn’t feel like a child’s game anymore. Now we were finally going to complete the mission our parents assigned us the moment we turned sixteen: marry each other. And for once, right now, it actually felt right.

We’re on the rug with linen swatches and a dog-eared album of family weddings, debating flowers that won’t wilt in August and which first-dance song could make my father cry.

“Peonies die in two hours,” I say.

“You in silk don’t,” Alex says, grinning, and kisses me—slow, unhurried, easy.

For a moment I think: how many people get this lucky? No drama. Full trust.

I pull back, breathless, and let the thought tumble out. “Listen—what if we tried something different this time? Our first night… I want you to surprise me. Not like we usually do.”

His shoulders go rigid. “What the hell, Ruby? Not like usual how?”

“Not lights-off-and-done,” I say, trying to keep it light. “I want… us. I want you to want, to—”

He laughs once, sharp. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m juggling venues, caterers, my mother’s spreadsheets, and you’re calling me uncreative because you want a different… routine?”

“I’m asking you to see me,” I say, softer. “To choose me, not the script.”

His color rises. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Five years, Alex. Five years of ordinary sex twice a week, lights off, you finishing quick while I stare at the ceiling wondering if this is all there is.”

“I already organized Dubai,” he snaps. “Flights, penthouse, private driver—the works. What else do you want from me? It was supposed to be a surprise. You’re unbelievable, Ruby. Ungrateful.”