Chapter 8
Brent’s POV
I sat at the long mahogany table, polished to a perfect shine, surrounded by crystal glasses and silver cutlery. The dining room hadn’t changed–same ancestral paintings, same suffocating air of expectation–but tonight, something felt off. Maybe it was the empty chair beside me. Maybe it was the silence that hung in the space Layla used to fill without even trying.”
Father cleared his throat, folding his napkin neatly. “Where’s Layla? I haven’t seen her around lately.“}]
I looked up, forcing my expression into something neutral. “She’s been busy,” I said. “Work. She’s handling something overseas.“}] Father’s eyes narrowed. “I see. Well, she better not be too busy to attend my birthday dinner next month. I want her there.“>>
I forced a smile. “She’ll try.“”
“She’ll try?” he repeated, tone skeptical. “Brent, did something happen between you two? She hasn’t been calling. Not sending food. You know how particular she was about those things.“N
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?“}]
He leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass. “She used to send food. Homecooked. Every week. Sometimes little jars of pickles, sometimes warm soup. When I got sick earlier this year, she came here with herbal medicine and insisted I drink it. Stayed by my side for three days straight. Do you know that?“}
No. I didn’t.
I felt the floor shift beneath me.N
“She never missed a call. Always asked about my health. Until these past few weeks.” His gaze was sharp now, cutting. “What did you do, Brent? Did you two fight?”
I swallowed thickly. “No. Nothing like that. I’ll… I’ll call her. I’ll tell her to be there.“>>
“Good,” Father said, nodding in satisfaction. “I want her sitting beside you. Like always.“}]
Like always.
But that “always” had already passed.”
Dinner continued, the conversation shifting toward business and politics, until Celeste’s mother, seated across from me, brought up something that pulled me back to the present.
“We’ve been talking lately,” she said, eyes gleaming, “and we feel it’s time to start thinking about Celeste’s marriage prospects.”>
Celeste choked lightly on her wine. “Mother–“>
“She’s of marrying age,” Father said, turning toward Celeste with a kind smile. “I’d like to help find a suitable match. You’re not getting any younger, dear.”
“I don’t want to marry yet,” Celeste replied quickly, forcing a small laugh. “I have other plans.“>
Her mother gave her a look, and then Celeste turned toward me–expecting me to say something, to save her.”
But I didn’t.
I nodded instead. “It’s the right time,” I said smoothly. “It’s a good idea to consider prospects.”>
Celeste blinked.§
Even her mother looked pleased.”
“Exactly,” she said. “If you keep putting it off, people will start to wonder. It’s better to act while the market’s hot.”
“And what if I like someone already?” Celeste tried to recover, her voice light. “What if I don’t want an arranged match?“}]
Father leaned forward, his voice turning cold. “Then you’ll lose your inheritance. I won’t hand it to a woman who refuses to uphold her duty to the family.”
There was a heavy silence. Celeste’s eyes flicked toward me again–something desperate flashing through them.
“I’ll make sure to find someone she actually likes,” I said, raising my glass as if to smooth over the tension. “No forced matches. Just someone she can accept.”
Father nodded. “That’s more like it.”
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and false laughter. I kept checking my phone under the table, but the screen remained dark.
Still no messages.”
Still no Layla.
Later, I returned to the guest room I’d claimed for the night. I sat on the edge of the bed, refreshing Layla’s contact over and over, staring at her name.”
She used to call me in the middle of boring meetings, just to say she missed me.N
Now, I’d give anything to hear her voice say my name–just once.
A knock.”
Then the door creaked open.{}
Celeste stepped in, still in her dinner dress, eyes sharp and uncertain.
“Why did you agree to that?” she asked softly, shutting the door behind her.”
313
nant
I sighed. “It was the right thing to do. If I pushed back, they’d start asking questions.”
She stepped closer. “Don’t you want me anymore?”
“Celeste…“N
“Just answer me.“N
I looked up at her. Her face was flushed, her hands clenched at her sides like she wasn’t sure whether to slap me or kiss me. “Of course I want you. But not like this.“N
Her breath hitched.N
“Then what was that back there?” she asked, voice rising. “You just sat there and agreed to marry me off like it was nothing.”
“I didn’t say that,” I said quietly. “I said I’d help you find someone you like.“}
“And in the meantime?” she snapped. “Do I just keep playing the shadow? Hiding? Waiting?”
“This is what we agreed on.“N
She stared at me.N
“I need you to trust me, Celeste,” I said. “For now, this is the only way we can keep what we have… without them tearing it apart.” She crossed her arms. “So you’re still willing to be my lover… but not enough to claim me.”
didn’t flinch. “It’s the right thing to do.“N
Even if I wasn’t sure anymore what “right” even meant.M
