Chapter 4- Dinner and Disaster

One week. That’s how long I’d been trying to pretend that night never happened. One week of throwing myself into work, ignoring Alex’s messages, and forcing smiles whenever Mum called. The shame still sat heavy in my stomach every time I remembered throwing that cash at him.

My events business had picked up a little. Two small corporate parties and one birthday bash kept me busy enough to avoid thinking too much. I’d even started replying to Mum’s texts properly again. No more dodging Sunday dinners or making excuses. I owed her that much after the mess with Alex. She still didn’t know the engagement had been fake, and I planned to keep it that way for now.

That Tuesday evening, my phone rang while I was sorting invoices at my tiny office desk. Mum’s name flashed on the screen. I answered with a smile I didn’t quite feel.

“Hey Mum.”

“Evelyn, darling! You won’t believe it.” Her voice bubbled with excitement, the kind I hadn’t heard in years. “I’ve met someone. Someone really special.”

I leaned back in my chair, eyebrows raised. “Really? That’s… great. Tell me about him.”

“Oh, he’s wonderful. Charming, successful, and so attentive. We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now, keeping it quiet at first, but I can’t hold it in anymore. I want you to meet him properly because he's going to be your dad soon.”

A few weeks. The words stuck in my head. I pushed away the tiny uneasy feeling. Mum deserved happiness. After Dad left years ago, she’d been alone too long.

“That sounds lovely,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I’m happy for you.”

“You have to come to dinner this Friday. At the house. I’m cooking that roast you love. He will be there. Please say yes, Evie. It would mean the world to me.”

I tapped my pen against the desk. Part of me wanted to hide away, but the other part knew I’d been distant for too long. “Alright. I’ll be there. What time?”

“Seven sharp. And dress nicely, darling. He’s quite sophisticated.”

I laughed softly. “I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

We chatted a bit more about her new man. She went on about how he made her feel young again, how he listened when she talked about her garden and her charity work. I listened, genuinely glad for her even if a small voice in my head wondered why it felt a bit too soon. Still, I told myself to be supportive. No more family drama.

The rest of the week dragged on. I finished up client emails, met with a potential new supplier, and even went for a run one morning to clear my head. Every so often, memories from that hotel room flashed back. The way Mark’s hands had felt. The disappointment. The cash scattering across his chest. I shoved those thoughts down hard. It was one stupid, drunken mistake. Nothing more.

Friday came faster than I expected. I chose a simple navy dress that reached my knees, nothing too fancy but respectable. Mum hated when I showed up looking “tired from work.” I drove over to the family house in the suburbs, the same place I grew up in. The lights glowed warm through the windows as I parked.

Mum opened the door before I could knock, pulling me into a tight hug. She smelled like her favourite perfume and rosemary from the kitchen.

“You look beautiful,” she said, stepping back to look at me. “Come in, come in. He's already here.”

My stomach did a small flip, but I smiled. “Can’t wait to meet him.”

She led me through the hallway toward the dining room, chatting about the roast and how Mark had brought a lovely bottle of wine. I nodded along, trying to ignore the nerves. It had been ages since Mum introduced anyone serious. This mattered to her.

We stepped into the dining room. The table was set beautifully with candles and the good china. And there, standing up from his chair beside Mum’s usual seat, was him.

Mark.

The same sharp jaw. The same dark hair. The same steady eyes that had looked at me in that hotel bar. He wore a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to show those tattoos I’d traced with my fingers weeks ago.

Time stopped.

My breath caught in my throat. The room felt too hot, too small. Blood rushed to my face as our eyes locked. Recognition hit him too. I saw it flicker across his face for a split second before he smoothed it into a polite, charming smile.

“Evie,” Mum said proudly, completely unaware. “This is Mark. Mark, this is my daughter Evelyn.”

He extended his hand across the table, calm as anything. “Nice to finally meet you, Evelyn.”

His voice. That same deep tone. My hand moved on autopilot, shaking his. His grip was firm, warm, and it sent an unwanted jolt through me. Up close like this, with Mum standing right there beaming, the reality crashed down hard.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Hi,” I managed, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. “Nice to meet you too.”

Mum laughed happily. “Sit down, both of you. The food is almost ready. Mark’s been telling me all about his work in property development. Very impressive.”

I sank into my chair across from them, legs shaky. Mark sat back down smoothly, but his eyes kept flicking to me when Mum turned toward the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” he asked quietly, once she was out of earshot for a moment. That small smirk played at the corner of his mouth. The same one from the bar. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table. My mind raced. The money. The insults. The way I’d told him never to speak of that night. And now here he was, in my family home, next to my mother.

This was a nightmare.

Mum came back carrying the roast, chatting excitedly about her plans for the weekend. I forced a smile, nodding at the right moments, but my heart hammered so loud I was sure they could hear it.

Mark passed me the vegetables like nothing was wrong. “So, Evelyn, what do you do?” he asked, perfectly polite. But under the table, his foot brushed mine once. Accident? I doubted it.

“I run an events company,” I replied, keeping my tone steady even though my pulse was racing. “Small parties, corporate functions, that sort of thing.”

“Impressive,” he said, eyes holding mine a beat too long. “Takes a lot of dedication.”

Mum smiled between us, completely oblivious. “See? I knew you two would get along.”

I stared at my plate, food suddenly looking impossible to eat. The man I’d slept with. The man I’d insulted and paid off like some cheap mistake. He was going to be my stepfather?

The thought made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t want to examine.

Dinner had only just started, but I already knew everything was about to get a lot more complicated.