Arranged Marriage with the Womanizer

Epilogue

Maybe it wasn't the ending that made it sad. Maybe the ending is the reason why people choose another path. Endings are always a closed book, but that doesn't mean you can't write a sequel to it. The option of starting a new chapter is always there, but that always depends on the author.

Several Years Later

"Ah, Mr. Pan! Welcome, welcome! We are very excited to see you. Please have a seat in your dressing room."

Paris was always filled with wonderful sights, but the best part about France was the people. They were generous, and offered you food. Well, I had yet to meet someone whom was not generous and did not offer me food.

A knock from my opened door shook me out of my thoughts, "Mr. Pan? Please change into the outfit that is covered in transparent blue in your wardrobe. We will tend to your hair and make up when you've finished."

She shut the door without allowing my response to enter. Shrugging, I stripped off my clothes and proceeded to wear the outfit. Fashion puzzled me, because the simplest clothes tend to have the biggest impact. A simple black slacks, combat boots, and a black polo shirt was apparently a 'look'. Honestly, I look ready for a funeral.

Within 20 minutes, the same woman knocked on my door. When she was given permission, she opened it.

"Are you ready for your hair and make-up sir?"

I nodded, and followed her out the door with a gesture of her head. She was muttering things into her microphone, incoherent words that I chose not to attempt to understand. She pushed a door open, and a row of models sat on a chair, each with a make-up artist perfecting them. I had sat in between two models, and was told to sit and look pretty while they contacted another make-up artist.

Wasn't long before a woman walked in with her cart filled with make up, and just paint pushes through the door and towards me. I occupied myself by looking through my phone, just waiting to get my face done. It felt relaxing to say the least.

I heard a gasp from above me, and I scrunched my brows. Why wasn't she working on my face? The show is starting soon.

"...Robbie?"

That voice. No..

I looked up.

"(F/N).."

She smiled. "I'll be doing your make-up today."

"Sounds pleasant."

After the show had ended, (F/N) decided to catch up for a coffee at a nearby place. My heart still continued to beat just as fast as it did when I first saw her. She looked beautiful.

"So, how are you and your boyfriend?" I started.

She paused, raising a brow. She seemed extremely dumbfounded. Maybe I was too blunt.

"I don't have a boyfriend. I never had one, actually. When you and I.. parted ways, I went looking for a job to pursue my career as a make-up artist."

"But Parker told me he saw you out on a date with someone."

She raised a brow. "You told him to stalk me?"

I shook my head, and my hands. "No! I didn't mean for it to come out that way! I just.. thought you moved on."

A smile again. "Not really. Your mother actually reached out for me. Before she.. passed away.."

My heart fell. I had dearly missed my mother.

"..And she told me she was worried about you. She suspected that you--maybe.. were still caught up with.. "us". She told me to come talk to you. That we could work things out.

But I saw you with Freya. And you were together. Being affectionate and what not. I decided to leave then and there. To be real with you, I wanted us to still happen. But, I thought you moved on."

I inhaled. "I broke up with Freya. We were together for a month. I had hoped that maybe if I was to keep things with her, I'll forget about you. Didn't quite work out that way. So I just left."

Silence fell between us, only the honking of the cars in the streets, and the occasional ringing of the bell from the door once a customer walks in. The ice in my heart had thawed, once I had told her my true feelings. The numbness, dissipated. The relief that washed over me was blissful, it almost felt euphoric.

I was the first to break the silence.

"So, what do you plan to do now?"

She took a sip of her drink, gazing out the window. "I don't know. Maybe I'll travel. I'll most likely be working for the most part though. What about you?"

"I got a contract to model in for New York Fashion Week." I nodded in excitement.

"That sounds amazing, I hope you continue to thrive."

I smiled. "Thank you."

The silence came back again. But it didn't feel the least bit awkward this time.

"Would you like to come with me?"

"To New York?"

"Yes. You'll be my personal make-up artist. We can go on adventures exploring the city together."

A spark in her eye gleamed. "I don't think I can."

My brows furrowed. "Why not?"

"I have other plans for myself. I have places that I want to visit. Sure, New York is nice, but I was hoping in going back to London next month."

"You really should pay London a visit. It's snowing. Perfect for a stay in, or just to have fun in the cold."

"I will. It would be nice."

At the end of the day, we parted ways. I moved on to New York and became a successful male model. She traveled all around Europe, London included of course, and became a successful woman herself. Our paths crossed once or twice, but we knew we were better off not trying to relive the past. Our future was much more meaningful.

Letting go was the hardest thing I had to do for love. But I won't be the first to admit to say that it has brought me good. If something is meant to be, it will be. I will always love her from afar. Even if it meant moving on in life without her.

I was glad, that I was put in arranged marriage with her.

She taught me how to love. And I will one day love a woman like I loved her.

A/N : This was from experience. My two year relationship ended recently. (Although mine was extremely nasty). So the last few updates were actually based off on real feelings. Thank you all for reading!

Sequel: RE-Arranged Marriage. Out now!