Awkward silence fell over the dining table—at least on Althea's end.
The clinking of silverware and the low hum of conversation between their parents filled the room, but between her and Adrian… there was a strange kind of quiet. Not tense, exactly. Just off. Like the calm before a storm that hadn't announced itself yet.
Althea sat rigidly, hands folded too neatly in her lap, pretending to be deeply interested in the embroidery on the table runner.
Adrian, on the other hand, looked too relaxed. He hadn't spoken much since arriving, just nodded along to his father's enthusiastic chatter. Like he was just waiting for dessert.
Althea risked a glance at him.
He wasn't even pretending to be tense. Just sitting there, leaning slightly back in his chair like the weight of the world had skipped over him entirely. His lips twitched—like he was fighting a smile at some secret joke.
She narrowed her eyes a little.
What is he hiding?
Their fingers accidentally brushed when she reached for the water. She froze, her heart fluttering, that familiar feeling. He pulled back smoothly, as if nothing had happened, continuing a conversation with his father without pause.
He took a sip of water, head tilted slightly as he listened to the parents' chatter. The soft overhead light caught the edge of his jawline, and the shadows danced lightly under his eyes. His hair was set unlike before. A few strands of his almond brown hair falling over, like he hadn't cared enough to smooth it down.
She didn't mean to keep staring, but her mind was spinning faster than her fork. It was only when Adrian suddenly turned his head and caught her looking that she realized her mistake.
He raised a brow, his lips curving into that maddeningly amused smirk. Caught.
Althea jerked her eyes back to her plate so fast she nearly knocked over her glass. Her ears went red, and she could practically hear his inner laughter even if he stayed quiet.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him lean in slightly and whisper, low enough for only her to hear, "You seem to have a habit of staring at me." She scoffed under her breath. "Hell no."
One eyebrow arched slowly, teasing. "Something on my face?"
Althea blinked, flustered. "No—just spaced out."
"Sure," he murmured, clearly amused, turning his attention back to the table. He chuckled faintly, but she could tell his mind was somewhere else.
She shifted in her seat, trying to focus on the conversation, but her stomach was in knots. Before she could dwell on it further, Adrian's mother spoke up.
"Why don't you two step out to the balcony? Talk a bit. Get some fresh air." She looked between them with a pointed smile. "You should enjoy some time together and get to know each other."
Adrian stood smoothly, already one step ahead. Like he was playing along in a story he'd already written an ending to.
The night air was cooler than she expected. Althea stepped onto the balcony, wrapping her arms around herself as the muted noise of the dining room faded behind the closed doors. The breeze teased strands of her hair loose. Adrian let out a sigh like he'd just slipped out of character.
"Well," he said, leaning against the railing. "That was... painful."
"You're awfully relaxed for someone getting married in two months," Althea said, crossing her arms.
Adrian gave her a sidelong glance. "I could say you're too tense for someone getting married in two months. But I know better."
She frowned. "Know better?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked out at the street below. Quiet street. Below, warm pools of light spilled from lampposts onto the pavement. A light breeze stirred the trees lining the sidewalk, their leaves whispering. Somewhere in the distance, a car honked faintly, the city breathing in slow, sleepy rhythm.
A part of her had hoped tonight would feel… real. Like something was beginning. But Adrian had smiled too politely, spoke too carefully. It was like watching someone wear a version of themselves they didn't quite believe in.
Adrian leaned against the railing, arms crossed. "So," he said, watching a parked car, "Are you actually okay with this? The arrangement?"
Althea paused. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I'm used to doing what's expected."
He looked at her then, eyes soft. "That sounds lonely."
She glanced at him, caught off guard by his sincerity.
Adrian, the boy from the park with the soft smirk and hazel eyes who had once made her laugh like it was the easiest thing in the world.
But the boy from that day... felt far away now.
"Maybe," she admitted.
Althea glanced sideways at him. He looked at ease, like none of this—the engagement, the expectations, the future being carved without his consent—was bothering him. That same unreadable expression sat on his face, calm and almost... faraway.
"Does it not bother you?" she asked. "Being told who you're going to marry?"
He shrugged. "It is what it is." That answer should have felt cold. Maybe it was. But his tone wasn't harsh, just resigned. Still, he turned to her and offered a brief, lopsided smile—one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Althea turned her face away, embarrassed by how much she was hoping he'd say something more. Something meaningful. But Adrian was quiet.
She tried not to look too long at his profile—the slope of his nose, the way the wind stirred his hair.
She closed her eyes, letting the breeze wash over her skin. And just like that—without warning—Adrian's voice echoed softly in her mind. That park afternoon. The juice can.
The teasing nickname. Snack duty queen.
A smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it. Damn him.
Adrian spoke, cutting off the silence. "We should head back in. See what the verdict is." Althea nodded slowly, trying to keep her expression steady. "Right. The 'verdict.' Sounds very romantic."
Adrian gave a soft huff of a laugh—more like a breath than anything else. "It's just family talk. You know how it is." He said as he slid opened the glass door behind him.
The soft light from the dining room behind him spilled over his shoulder, casting his face in a warm glow. For a moment, he looked like the Adrian she remembered—relaxed, almost charming. But his eyes didn't linger on her the way she wished they would. He wasn't really seeing her. Just acknowledging her.
Back in the dining room, the plates had been cleared. The soft clinking of teacups and murmurs filled the room, but everything quieted the moment Althea and Adrian stepped back in.
Her father smiled first—measured and expectant. Mr. Velasco looked equally satisfied, his hands folded neatly in front of him like a man who'd sealed an important deal.
"We were just discussing next steps," her father said, motioning for them to sit. "It's all moving smoothly."
Althea took her seat. Adrian followed, sitting beside her with that same composed air he'd worn all evening. He hadn't said much—but he didn't need to. His presence alone seemed to be enough to convince the room that things were going well.
"Of course, we want to respect your wishes too," Mr. Velasco added, looking between the two. "But we've spoken with the elders, and both sides feel this arrangement would benefit our families. You two already seem comfortable together."
Ah yes, the same pattern.
"That sounds fine," Adrian said calmly, his tone smooth and effortless. "If Althea's alright with it." That caught her off guard. She blinked. "Oh. Yes. Of course."
Her voice was sweet, practiced—like second nature. She was used to saying the right things.
Her mother beamed. "Perfect. Then we'll speak with the elders and begin preparations." The adults carried on, talk shifting to venues and guest lists, but Althea's mind drifted.
Adrian sat beside her—handsome, thoughtful, the kind of boy girls dreamed of marrying. But his smile didn't linger. And somehow… that stung more than she expected.
She understood, he was not the boy she met that day at the park... not anymore.
The last car pulled out of the driveway, its headlights vanishing into the night. The house, moments ago filled with laughter and clinking glasses, was finally quiet.
Althea stood by the window, arms loosely crossed over her chest. Her heels were off, her earrings removed—little rituals of unwinding. But her mind still buzzed with the evening's conversations, Adrian's gentle voice, his calm smile.
The clink of dishes and the faint hum of the dishwasher were the only sounds in the house now. The grandeur of the evening had faded, leaving behind the echo of footsteps and a few scattered wine glasses waiting to be cleared. Althea, barefoot and quiet, walked past the hallway on her way to her room—until she heard her parents' voices from the hall.
She slowed, then stopped just by the corner.
"…It's all falling into place," her mother said, her voice hushed but firm. "The Velascos are impressed. Especially the mother. She likes Althea."
"And she likes Adrian," her father added, sounding almost relieved. "That boy's polite, composed—he's the kind you want on your side."
There was a pause. Then her mother spoke again, more calculated. "This marriage secures everything. The expansion deal, the international contracts. You know what it means if it goes through—we won't just be another mid-tier firm struggling for relevance."
"Velasco Industries doesn't partner with just anyone," her father murmured. "And once we're family, it'll be seamless. They won't question loyalty."
Althea's hand slowly curled around the wall beside her. Her breath caught in her throat.
"But he's truly a good match for Althea." her father asked after a beat. "She's… Hopeful." A small laugh from her mother. "She's always had her head in the clouds. Let her have her fairytale for now. Once she's married, reality will settle in."
Althea stepped back without a sound, heart hammering. She backed into the hallway shadows, her eyes wide. Something in her chest twisted—tangled between betrayal and disbelief.
So, it wasn't about love. It wasn't even about her. It was about business.
Althea didn't stop to think.
She stepped into the doorway, her arms stiff at her sides. Her parents turned, startled—her mother's expression freezing mid-sip of her tea, her father with a guilty glance.
"You're using me," she said quietly, the words trembling on her tongue but sharp enough to cut.
Her mother recovered first. "Althea."
"You're using me to close a deal. To secure a contract. Not because Adrian and I are good together, not because you thought I'd be happy, but because it benefits you."
"Althea, lower your voice," her father said gently, like she was a child who needed to be calmed. "You won't understand these."
"No," she snapped, her voice rising. "You said —"
Her mother's eyes narrowed slightly. "You think love is enough to build a life on? You think feelings pay the bills? Keep a family afloat? Grow a business?"
"I think you stopped believing in love a long time ago," Althea shot back. "And now you want to pass that down to me like it's some cursed inheritance."
"Watch your tone," her mother said, cold.
"Or what?" Althea said, her voice dropping. "You'll marry me off sooner?"
Silence.
End of chapter 3.