MasukIf I had known that Sunday brunch with my family would feel like a full-blown interrogation, I might have faked a fever. Or a trip to Mars.
But my mother’s text was as impossible to ignore as always: Mom: “You and your husband must come over this weekend. Everyone’s is excited to meet him!” Me: “Everyone?” Mom: “Yes. And you don't have any reason to say no, you shouldn't even try to.” So now, I was sitting at my parents’ dining table, the same one that had seen countless Sunday roasts, birthday cakes, and awkward silences, watching my mother slice roast chicken like she was dissecting my life choices. Adrian slid into the chair beside me, calm as ever. His posture was unnervingly straight with his shirt neat and sleeves rolled just so... Every movement made was measured He looked like he’d stepped out of an expensive magazine and into my family’s chaos. “So,” my mother said, setting down her knife with a delicate clink, “tell us about yourself, Adrian.” Adrian smiled politely, the kind of smile that didn’t reveal much. “There isn’t much to tell, Mrs. Hart. I manage a few business ventures, mostly property and finance.” “A few?” my brother Mark snorted. “I I looked you up online. You’re on Forbes, apparently.” I froze. “You what?” Mark shrugged. “What? The internet exists. I just wanted to make sure our dear sister didn’t marry some… internet mystery.” My mother gasped. “Mark!” But Adrian only chuckled softly, unfazed. “That’s fair. Background checks are important.” The man had charm armor — polished, unbreakable, dangerous. Then came my aunt Clara. The self-proclaimed keeper of every rumor within a ten-mile radius. “So, Adrian,” she said, leaning forward, lowering her tone in a way that meant she wanted everyone to hear,. “I heard your company was in the news last year. Something about a woman…?” My fork froze halfway to my mouth. Damn it and here we go. Adrian’s smile didn’t waver. “Rumors follow everyone, Mrs. Clara. Not every story deserves a second thought.” He said it lightly, but the edge of control in his tone made it clear he’d been through worse. “Oh, but this one was interesting,” she persisted. “They said you were engaged once to someone from a very powerful family.” My heart thudded. I glanced at him. Adrian met my gaze for the briefest second, then smiled, smooth and polite. “Ah. That. It was a misunderstanding that the media exaggerated.” “A misunderstanding that involved an engagement ring?” Mark muttered. I kicked him under the table. Adrian noticed but didn’t comment. Instead, he reached for his glass of water, his composure maintained. My mother sighed dreamily. “Well, whether or not it’s true, I’m just glad you’re married to our Elena now. She’s been through enough.” That made me choke on air. “MOM!” “What?” she said innocently. “After that last boyfriend—” “MOM!” Too late. My entire love life was officially public knowledge. Adrian’s brow lifted just slightly, amused. “Ex-boyfriend?” he asked quietly when no one was listening. I groaned. “Please don’t ask.” “I won’t,” he said simply and somehow that made me want to tell him even more. Halfway through dessert, I excused myself to grab something from the kitchen. When I came back, I heard my aunt’s voice, lowered but not enough. “She’s lucky, really. After everything she went through with that cheating bastard, she landed herself a Kingsley. I still can’t believe it.” “She didn’t even know who he was,” Mark whispered. “The marriage was… kind of impulsive.” “Oh, she knows now. And if she’s smart, she’ll hold onto him tight. Men like that don’t stay single long.” I lingered by the doorway, my heart racing. That tone used was deeper than the words it was said with, Like I’d won a prize, not a person, like my marriage was some kind of accident I should be grateful for. Adrian’s voice broke through the murmurs, smooth but firm. “Actually,” he said, “I think....I was the lucky one.” The table fell silent. When I stepped in, his eyes met mine. There was warmth there ; soft, steady, utterly disarming. And for one dizzying second, the gossip didn’t matter. None of it did, atleast for the moment I wanted to live in. The drive back was quiet. The city lights flickered across Adrian’s face as he drove focused, unreadable, just too beautiful for my sanity. “Sorry about my family,” I said finally. “They can be… intrusive.” “I didn’t mind.” He glanced at me. “You defended me more than once. That’s rare.” “I wasn’t defending you,” I muttered. “Just saving them from your lawyer-level sarcasm.” His lips curved slightly. “So, you do notice my sarcasm.” “Hard not to.” He chuckled softly, then his tone shifted ; deeper, more introspective. He exhaled softly. “Families… they have their own kind of chaos, don’t they?” “Yours too?” A brief pause. “Worse.” I wanted to ask, but his expression changed slightly and i could guess he was thinking about them, I let it go. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… familiar like we were both carrying ghosts we didn’t have names for yet. When we arrived at the penthouse, he turned to me before I stepped out. “Elena.” I looked up. “Yeah?” He hesitated just for a heartbeat. Then: “Next time your family invites us, tell them I’ll bring dessert.” I blinked. “That’s it?” A faint smile ghosted across his lips. “You expected something else?” That was quite a tease, I didn’t answer. Because what I had expected… was a kiss , shocking right? I know that myself. And that realization scared me more than my mother’s gossip ever could.“You have,” he said, his voice a shade deeper, “a smudge of flour. Right here.” His thumb brushed, just once, over the corner of my mouth. There was no flour. I knew it. He knew it. It was an excuse. A transparent, beautiful excuse to touch me. My breath hitched. I couldn’t look away from his eyes. The gray in them seemed to darken, swallowing the light. His hand stayed on my waist, burning a brand through my clothes. My own hands, still clutching a linen water lily, hung uselessly at my sides. The world narrowed to the point of contact, to the intensity of his gaze, to the faint, quickened rhythm of his breathing that matched my own. He was going to kiss me. The knowledge was a crystal-clear certainty. It was in the slight lean of his body, the dip of his head, the parting of his lips. And I wanted him to. God, I wanted it. The wanting was a physical ache, sweet and sharp. The moment stretched, taut and shimmering. Then, from the hallway, came the unmistakable, cheerful soun
The next two days passed in a blur of preparation. The penthouse, once a monument to minimalist perfection, began to gather traces of life. A stack of cookbooks sat dog-eared on the kitchen counter. A delivery of mismatched, colorful ceramic serving platters, my choice, waited on the dining table. The subtle scent of lemon polish and fresh flowers mingled in the air. The physical changes were minor. The real shift was a crackling, positive energy that everyone seemed to absorb. Mrs. Patel became a general marshaling her troops, which mostly consisted of me and a delighted Leo, who had been temporarily reassigned from “perimeter security” to “ambiance logistics.” “The flow is crucial, Mrs. Kingsley,” Leo explained with grave intensity as we stood in the living room. He pointed a laser pointer (where did he get that?) at the floor. “Guests will enter, be drawn by the light and aroma from the kitchen, but we must create a subtle current that leads them to the seating area here, which
“He’s still in there,” I said, grinning. “But I think he’s… airing out. The kitchen incident broke some seal.” “The kitchen incident you still haven’t given me explicit details about,” she pointed out. “It was a touch,” I said, my face warming. “A very… clarifying touch. But yesterday was different. It was light. Easy.” Maya studied me, her sharp eyes missing nothing. “You look different. Lighter. You’re not braced for impact.” I realized she was right. The constant, low-grade anxiety that had been my companion since the blind date had quieted. It wasn’t gone, Adrian was still a puzzle but the pieces felt like they were fitting together instead of fighting each other. “I think,” I said slowly, “we’re just going to be. For a minute. See what that’s like.” “Good.” Maya nodded firmly. “Now, about this dinner. You need to cement this ‘warmer, fun Adrian’ vibe. We need music. Not stuffy classical. Something cool but accessible. I have a playlist.” Of course she did. We spen
The sunlight felt different. That was the first though in my mind as I blinked awake. It wasn’t just the pale gold streaming through the windows; it was the quality of the quiet. I rolled over, expecting the other side of the bed to be cold and empty as always. It wasn’t. Adrian was there, on his back, one arm behind his head. He wasn’t asleep. He was staring at the ceiling, but his expressionwas… contemplative. Almost peaceful. “You’re still here,” I said, my voice sleep-rough. He turned his head on the pillow. “I live here.” “You know what I mean.” I propped myself up on an elbow. “You’re usually in your study by dawn, doing… whatever mysterious CEO things you do before the sun insults you by rising.” A faint smile touched his lips. " CEO things involve a lot of coffee and glaring at spreadsheets. Today, the spreadsheets can wait.” That was new. We lay there for a few minutes in a comfortable quiet. This was the quiet of a shared space finally beginning to feel
Morning came softly.Pale sunlight slipped through the sheer curtains and settling across the bedroom floor like it belonged there.I woke slowly, wrapped in that hazy in-between state where thoughts hadn’t fully formed yet. The bed was warm. Too warm on the other side.Adrian.The memory of last night stirred, his eyes were tired, his carefully selected words and the unspoken agreement between us holding with thin lines. I turned slightly.He was already awake.This is like the first time we will be in bed at the same time guess a new agreement to a new change.Lying on his back, one arm bent beneath his head, staring at the ceiling like it had personally offended him.“You’re thinking too loudly,” I murmured.His head turned toward me, startled. “Was I?”“Yes,” I said seriously. “I could hear the brooding.”A beat.His lips twitched astonishingly, just once but that is progress.We didn’t talk much while getting ready. Not in an uncomfortable way, more like we were both handling it
The house felt too quiet without Adrian.The kind that made every sound echo louder than it should. The hum of the refrigerator. The tick of the clock. Even my own thoughts seemed intrusive.I checked my phone for the third time in ten minutes.Nothing.I told myself not to read into it. He’d said it was an obligation. Something old. Still, the absence pressed against my chest in a way I didn’t like.That was when the doorbell rang.I frowned.Mrs. Patel answered it before I could, her polite greeting drifting down the hallway. A second later, unfamiliar voices followed. warm, confident, unmistakably related to the man currently occupying too much space in my head.“Elena, dear!”I barely had time to brace myself before a woman walked into the living room like she owned it.She was elegant in a composed, effortless way, pearl earrings, tailored dress, eyes sharp but curious. Behind her stood a tall man with Adrian’s posture and eyes, just softer around the edges. And trailing them, a







