“This place is really vibrant and unforgettable,” she says, praising it warmly. I’m glad she’s enjoying herself.
“Totally unforgettable,” I say with a grin. “But being here with you just makes it even better.” I throw her a wink, and she laughs right away.
“Looks like you’re missing your girlfriend and using me to drop your flirty lines.”
“No one could ever replace you, Ames,” I reply softly. “You hold a special spot in my heart.”
Her expression tightens at my words. I want her to really get what I’m saying, but before she can respond or ask anything, I stand up, shifting the vibe.
“Let’s keep moving,” I say, nudging us to the next stop. Soon, we reach the Flower Dome and Cloud Forest, the iconic, climate-controlled conservatories at Gardens by the Bay, where global flora thrives beneath vast glass structures. The Flower Dome, the largest glass greenhouse in the world, opens into early afternoon light that filters through the canopy, turning the space into a living mosaic of colour.
Exotic blooms lean toward the pathways, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting, their quiet beauty slowing my steps. The air is cool, almost cleansing, like it’s clearing space inside me I didn’t know I needed.
The moment we step into the embrace of the Cloud Forest, the world around us seems to dissolve. Wisps of mist swirl lazily through the air, softening the outlines of trees and foliage, creating a dreamlike haze that wraps around us. The elevated walkway narrows, drawing us closer by an unseen force, inviting intimacy. Her shoulder brushes against mine, and instead of retreating, I allow a surge of warmth to overcome me. I loop my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as we meander toward a weathered wooden bench nestled amidst the cascading waterfalls and vibrant greenery. Here, in this secluded alcove, silence reigns like a comforting blanket that feels safe and inviting rather than oppressive.
When I turn to gauge her reaction, I’m met with a delightful sight: her cheeks are tinged with the faintest blush, and I can’t help but wonder what has shifted beneath the surface. We once roamed freely, hand in hand, without a second thought. Why does she seem different now?
As we settle onto the bench, positioned beneath an arch adorned with delicate flowers, our knees nearly touch, creating a connection that feels both exhilarating and serene. I haven’t released her yet; my arm rests lower along her neck, a silent promise of closeness. She locks eyes with me, and with a gentle smile, she aligns her hand with mine. A wave of joy washes over us, and the quiet between us is filled with unspoken understanding, just the rhythm of our breaths, the shared warmth enveloping us in this intimate cocoon.
In this moment, it feels exquisite to be so close to my girl.
Eventually, we rise and continue along the mist-kissed path. The narrow walkway once again forces our proximity, and I take her hand, guiding her gently forward. Suddenly, her laughter bursts forth, light and effervescent.
“Rey! Why are you so clingy today?” She meets my gaze directly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Scared I’ll go missing?”
I chuckle softly, shaking my head. “Just making sure you're right here with me, especially since you’ve developed a habit of wandering way too far lately.” She appears caught off guard but opts for silence, and together we walk on until we reach the cab waiting patiently outside.
As the late afternoon light settles gently over Marina Bay Promenade, the skyline glimmers like glass dipped in warm gold. Before our stroll, we enjoy lunch at a quiet restaurant with panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the mesmerizing view of the water. The ambiance is serene, muted conversations mingling with the soft clinking of cutlery. We share our dishes seamlessly, her fork slipping into my plate as if it has always sought out my food. Between bites, we engage in effortless banter about unimportant things and everything that somehow matters, weaving a tapestry of connection and laughter above the shimmering water.
After lunch, we step outside. The breeze brushes my skin, carrying the scent of the sea and the city together. We walk without hurry, the path stretching ahead, the skyline mirrored in the water beside us. Our conversation slows, turns reflective, memories, pauses, and thoughts we usually keep tucked away. There’s an ease here, unforced, like the city is permitting us to be honest.
“Rey, I’m really grateful to you for planning such a peaceful day out in Singapore,” she says softly. “It feels like walking through heaven. I’m really loving today.” Stars seem to light up in her eyes, and that alone makes everything worth it.
“I feel like I’m hanging out in heaven today,” I say lightly.
“What?”
“Just kidding, Ames.” I grin. “Let’s head to our last stop before dinner.” She hits my arm playfully, her attention shifting back to the scenery. The city shimmers around us alive, brilliant, but standing there, I realise something quietly certain. My heart knows peace only when I’m with her.
She is magic.
For sunset, we take the Singapore River Cruise. The boat glides away from Clarke Quay as the sky softens, blues melting into amber. Lights flicker along the riverbanks, their reflections stretching and breaking across the water. From here, the city feels quieter, less demanding, more forgiving.
Amyra stands beside me, close enough that our arms brush when the boat sways. Neither of us moves away. I rest my forearms on the railing, and after a moment, she leans in, her shoulder pressing lightly against mine. I turn to face her as her gaze lifts to meet mine.
Time to conduct a dangerous little survey, for my own sake.
“So,” I ask casually, though my heart trembles, “are you ready for a relationship now?”
“I’m only focused on my career right now, Rey,” she replies, irritation slipping into her tone. “I can’t believe you’re being nosy about my personal life just like society.” Guilt settles in immediately. I’ve crossed a line, and I need to learn my lesson.
“Sorry, Ames. I won’t ask again.” Still, the discomfort lingers. Her disinterest in relationships feels unsettling, like a quiet warning of rejection waiting in the future. Yet I cling to faith in what we share. Maybe that can change everything.
Our final stop is dinner at a riverside café in Boat Quay.
Amyra is busy chatting with Karan, asking if he can join us despite his hectic day. Initially, we planned to head back to the hotel for dinner, but I suggested this place instead, close to the river cruise.
“What did he say?” I ask.
