Chapter 5-Secrets at the Table

Dinner dragged on like a bad dream I couldn’t wake up from. Mum kept chatting away, passing dishes and laughing at Mark’s stories about property deals and tricky clients. I pushed food around my plate, nodding at the right moments, but my mind kept replaying that hotel room. The cash. My angry words. And now this man sitting across from me like he belonged here.

Mum stood up suddenly, wiping her hands on her apron. “Let me check on the dessert. I made that apple crumble you like, Evie. Won’t be a minute.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, humming softly. The door swung shut behind her, leaving me alone with Mark.

The silence hit hard. I gripped my wine glass tighter.

Mark leaned back in his chair, that familiar smirk creeping onto his face. “So, Evelyn,” he said quietly, voice low enough that only I could hear. “Small world, isn’t it?”

I shot him a sharp look. “Don’t. Not here.”

He chuckled softly, eyes glinting. “Come on. You throw money at a man, call his performance pathetic, and storm out… and now we’re having family dinner? You have to admit it’s funny.”

My cheeks burned. “It wasn’t funny. I was drunk. Angry. That night was a mistake, and I told you to forget it.”

“Hard to forget when you paid me like I was some cheap escort.” He took a slow sip of wine, watching me over the rim. “You said I should be the one paying you. Told me I finished too fast, that it was unpleasant. Hurt a man’s pride, love.”

I glanced toward the kitchen, heart racing. “Keep your voice down. If my mum finds out—”

“She won’t. Not from me.” His foot brushed mine under the table again, deliberate this time. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about it. The way you looked when you threw that cash. All fire and frustration. Made me want to prove you wrong.”

“Prove me wrong?” I whispered fiercely. “You’re about to marry my mother. This is insane. You need to end this before it goes further.”

Mark’s expression stayed calm, but his eyes darkened. “Your mum makes me happy. And I make her happy. You really want to take that away because of one drunken night?”

Before I could answer, Mum’s voice floated from the kitchen. “Almost ready!”

I sat back quickly, forcing a neutral face. Mark did the same, picking up his fork like nothing had happened. The conversation had left me rattled. Part of me wanted to drag Mum aside right then and tell her everything. That this man wasn’t who she thought. That I’d slept with him. Insulted him. Paid him off.

But when she came back carrying the warm crumble, her face glowed with real joy. Eyes bright, smile wide in a way I hadn’t seen since before Dad left us years ago. She looked lighter. Younger. Happy.

“Hope you saved room,” she said, setting it down. “Mark, you have to try this. Evie’s favourite.”

I watched her serve him first, touching his shoulder gently. The way she looked at him… it stopped the words in my throat. Mum had been lonely for so long. Quiet evenings, forced smiles, always putting on a brave face for me. Telling her now would crush her. I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

The rest of dessert passed in a blur of small talk. I laughed when I was supposed to, answered questions about my work, but every glance from Mark felt loaded. He played the perfect gentleman in front of Mum, but I caught the teasing edge in his eyes whenever she looked away.

Finally, plates cleared. I stood up. “Thanks for dinner, Mum. It was lovely. I should head home. It starts early tomorrow.”

Mum hugged me tight. “Drive safe, darling.”

Mark rose too. “Actually, Evelyn, why don’t you stay the night? It’s getting late, and the roads can be quiet this time. We have the guest room ready.”

Mum clapped her hands. “Yes! That’s a wonderful idea. We can have breakfast together tomorrow. Please stay, Evie.”

I hesitated, trapped. Saying no now would look strange. “I… alright. Just for tonight.”

Mum beamed and headed upstairs to sort linens. Mark walked me to the hallway as she disappeared. He stepped close, voice barely above a whisper.

“Smart choice,” he murmured. “We have unfinished business. Don’t worry. I won’t tell her how you really feel about my… performance. Unless you want me to prove I can do better.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. Before I could reply, Mum called from upstairs.

But as I turned toward the guest room, my phone buzzed in my bag. A new message. From an unknown number. 'You don't want your reputation to go down the drain. Do you?'

My blood ran cold. Mark stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching me with that same knowing smirk.

What the hell had I walked into?