Chapter 24: Are You Looking Forward To Meet Someone?

"Why would he blame me?” Andy’s father snapped. “You’re a terrible mother and a worse wife. My greatest regret is marrying someone like you.”

Andy, listening to yet another round of their fighting, felt his patience snap. He turned to Alicia. “Let’s go.”

Alicia nodded. They were heading back to the car when his mother called after them. “Why are you leaving, son? Since you’re here, let’s sit and get to know your pretty wife.”

Andy didn’t stop. He opened the door for Alicia, then got in beside her.

Behind them, his father sneered at his mother. “Other mothers can get their sons to listen. You? No one listens to you. And you still call yourself a good mother.”

Andy’s mother huffed, turned on her heel, and walked away.

They drove off in silence. Alicia sat quietly, hands folded in her lap. Once they’d pulled out of his grandfather’s villa, Andy waited for her to ask, to prod, to say anything. She didn’t. The calm she held felt like a steadying hand he hadn’t known he needed.

“Are you going to ask?” he said at last.

“As my husband,” Alicia replied, voice soft but sure, “your decisions can’t be wrong in my eyes. If you say they don’t matter, then they don’t.”

He looked at her, and something in him softened. He hadn’t expected that. The corner of his mouth lifted. “My parents were oil and water. Married, yes; had me, yes—but they were always at each other’s throats. Accusations, affairs, threats. It got so bad they started talking lawsuits. That’s when my grandpa stepped in and took me away.”

His hands curled into fists. Anger tightened his jaw. Disappointment clouded his eyes. “After he took me, they divorced. Then they both remarried. Neither of them even looked back. Days went by. I kept waiting—thinking they’d show up, ask how I was. They never did. I thought it was my fault.”

He turned to Alicia, voice rough with old hurt. “So I worked harder. I topped every class. I thought if I became the smartest kid in elementary school, they’d show up for my graduation. They didn’t even send a message.”

He exhaled, bitter and tired. “High school, same story. I thought maybe if I dominated there, they’d notice. Prom night came and went—no text, nothing. Eventually I realized they didn’t care, so I stopped living for them and started living for me. I became someone even their new kids would admire. And now? Now they want me back—because Grandpa’s ready to hand me the company, and neither of them can stand that.”

His eyes were bloodshot when he said, quietly, “Those are my parents.”

Alicia met his gaze and steadied him with a touch to his knee. “Are they worthy?” she asked gently. “They’re the ones who are inconsequential. You don’t want them as parents, but now they want you as a son. That means they regret what they did. It means they finally realized the treasure they had and threw away. The fault was never yours.”

He almost smiled, feeling the weight in his chest lift, just a little. Her hand warmed his knee; when he looked down at it, then up at her, she gave him a knowing smile.

He tensed, surprised by how much that small touch unnerved him. Alicia withdrew her hand and turned to the window as the car carried them home.

When they pulled up and stepped out, Alicia was heading for the front door when she paused—Winnie and a young man were just coming out of the house.

When Alicia saw them, she pretended not to, but Winnie wouldn’t let her pass. She tugged her boyfriend forward, stepped into Alicia’s path, and announced, “This is my boyfriend, Wilfred. See how handsome he is? And not just handsome—he can walk, too.”

Alicia gave a cool, mocking smile. “Don’t regret this decision in the future.”

She started to walk away, but Winnie scoffed after her. “I won’t regret having kids of my own and having a handsome man. And you? You can go be a nun.”

Alicia didn’t bother responding. She headed inside—only to meet Beatrice at the hallway. Alicia’s brows knit. Clearly, the mother-and-daughter duo were determined to make her day miserable.

“You shouldn’t be gallivanting around the city and country with someone who hasn’t declared you his fiancée—or your husband,” Beatrice said, her tone dressed up as motherly advice.

Alicia recognized the malice beneath the silk. She smiled. “Thank you.”

She moved to leave, but Beatrice called after her, “Have you tried on the gown I sent to your room? Your father’s birthday party is tomorrow. Make sure you wear it—not those tops and jeans with sneakers you’re always running around in.”

Alicia ignored her, opened her bedroom door, and went in, shutting out their voices with a quiet click.

She locked the door, slipped off her shoes, and assembled her laptop with practiced ease. A tap on the trackpad woke the screen; after a brief eye-scan, the homepage bloomed to life. Her fingers flew over the keys. Within minutes, she had the full list of invitees for her father’s birthday party.

She scrolled—names blurring—until she stopped at Mr. Ethan and Mrs. Emily. Her eyes went cold. Her fists tightened. Her face remained unreadable as she closed and then opened her eyes again. Slowly, her lips curved into a dark smile. “Long time no see, Ethan. Emily.”

Alexander didn’t come home that night. She ate dinner alone, then returned to her room. By morning, the mansion had transformed: garlands and lights draped every corner, and the grand hall stood fully dressed for celebration.

“Are you looking forward to meeting someone?”