Few Minutes Earlier
June sat with her arms crossed, watching Mrs. Deen with wary curiosity. The older woman took a slow sip of her lukewarm chocolate coffee, her movements graceful and deliberate. The silence stretched between them, tense yet oddly calm.
Then, without warning, Mrs. Deen set her cup down and leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed on June.
"I honestly don't find anything wrong with you," she said, dabbing at an invisible stain on the handle of her cup. "In fact, I think you're the perfect fit for my son."
June blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise. That was… unexpected.
She had braced herself for the usual disapproving speech, the you're-not-good-enough-for-my-son lecture that so many mothers had delivered before. But here Mrs. Deen was, giving her approval.
Then June's eyes flickered toward the checkbook that still lay between them.
"And the check? What's that for, then?" she asked, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice.
Mrs. Deen smiled knowingly. "Oh, that? My offer still stands. You can put in any amount you like. All I ask is that you promise to never leave my son."
June inhaled sharply.
For all her confidence and bravado, the truth was that a part of her had been nervous about Mrs. Deen's opinion. It wasn't that she needed the woman's approval to be with Dave, she would have fought for him regardless. But knowing she had it? That was an entirely different kind of relief.
"You mean to tell me…" June trailed off, studying the woman carefully. "You're not here to tell me to stay away from your son?"
Mrs. Deen let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "Why on earth would I do that? I came to meet my future daughter-in-law in person, that's all." Then, tapping the checkbook lightly, she added, "And the money is just a little encouragement to make sure you stay patient with him. We both know what a handful he can be at times."
June couldn't help the surprised laugh that escaped her lips.
She had prepared for war, but instead, she found herself facing a mother who not only supported her relationship but was practically bribing her to stay.
Unbelievable.
"Believe me, dear," Mrs. Deen continued, "I'm more than happy to have you as his girlfriend. And to prove my loyalty" she reached into her leather bag and pulled out an old photo album, placing it on the table between them with a proud smile. "I've brought you pictures of his childhood."
June's eyes widened in delight.
"Yes! That's what I need, silly, embarrassing photos of him!"
Mrs. Deen chuckled as she opened the album, flipping through the pages with the kind of pride only a mother could have. June scooted closer, eyes sparkling with interest.
"This was taken on the day of his birth," Mrs. Deen said, pointing at a tiny, wrinkly baby wrapped in a hospital blanket. Her fingers caressed the photo fondly. "And here's his first birthday…"
June gasped when she saw the next picture. It was baby Dave, stark naked, crawling on the carpet with nothing but a party hat on his tiny head.
"Oh my god," she giggled. "That's adorable!"
Mrs. Deen burst into laughter, nodding. "That's my son, always finding ways to make a grand entrance."
They continued flipping through the photos, laughing at Dave's many childhood moments, his first steps, his disastrous attempt at baking, his awkward teenage years with braces.
While they bonded over his embarrassing past, Dave was sprinting up the stairs, having missed the elevator.
He had no idea what his mother was up to, but the second he heard her name being called earlier, his instincts had kicked in. He knew his mother too well. While she wasn't exactly the villainous, meddling type, she could be unpredictable. And the last thing he wanted was for her to cause problems between him and June.
He reached the cafeteria within minutes, his heart pounding as he stepped inside..
Only to freeze in place.
His mother and June were laughing.
What the hell is happening here?
"Dave!?" June's voice rang out the second she spotted him.
Mrs. Deen casually rolled her eyes, fully aware of why he was there.
"Are you here because you're afraid I'll eat your girlfriend?" she teased with a smirk.
Dave hesitated, then cleared his throat. "You ladies seem to be doing fine, so I'll just"
His words trailed off when his eyes landed on the table. More specifically, on the photo album.
A very familiar photo album.
His stomach dropped.
In an instant, he lunged forward, snatching the album off the table. His fingers scrambled to gather the loose pictures scattered around.
"Mom!" he hissed, glaring at her.
"Oh, please," she huffed. "I was just bonding with my daughter-in-law. And these photos were a great way to do it."
June giggled, managing to snatch one of the pictures from him before he could grab them all.
She stared at it for a second before bursting into laughter.
It was a baby photo of him, buck naked in a bubble bath, grinning way too happily.
"I didn't know you could smile like this," she teased, her voice full of amusement. "And you like clowns?"
Dave groaned, running a hand down his face.
"My boyfriend was so cute as a child," June cooed, cupping his cheeks. "I love him so much."
Despite the embarrassment, Dave found himself softening at the sight of her bright smile.
But before he could respond, a voice cut through the moment.
"Dr. Deen, right?"
Dave stiffened.
He turned toward the source of the voice and immediately recognized him.
Rolland.
His expression darkened slightly as the memory of their last encounter resurfaced.
Rolland stood a few feet away, his hands buried in his pockets, his jaw set tight. His presence alone was enough to set Dave on edge.
"I think you should leave June alone," Rolland said bluntly. "She doesn't need you."
Dave's jaw clenched.
June stiffened beside him, her expression unreadable.
"And you are?" Dave asked, taking a step closer. He hadn't paid much attention to the guy before, but now that he was up close, he took in the sharp features and confident stance.
"I've known June for years," Rolland said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of possessiveness. "There's no way she'd be with a guy like you unless she had to be. She doesn't love you."
Dave let out a slow breath. His patience was running thin.
"And let me guess," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You're the one she loves?"
Rolland's smirk deepened. "I'd be a better partner for her than you. She needs someone her own age, not some grandpa."
Dave's fingers curled into fists.
This guy was asking to get punched.
"You need help, kid," Dave said, his voice calm but dangerously low. "I could recommend a good psychiatrist."
Rolland's eyes flared, and in the next second, he grabbed Dave's collar, shoving him slightly.
Dave barely flinched.
"Easy there, buddy," he said smoothly, prying Rolland's hands off him. He dusted off his shirt as if the guy had left a stain.
Then, his voice dropped to a cold, husky tone.
"For your own good, I suggest you walk away," he warned. "Because if I see you bothering June again, you won't like what happens next."
….
"Rr…!" A loud squeal filled the air.
Dora's legs bounced up and down in excitement, her hands waving in cute little motions as her waist swayed to an unseen rhythm. Her face scrunched into expressions Edward had never seen before, twisting with pure delight.
And he just stood there, frozen, watching her.
"I just got a contract!" she blurted out, nearly vibrating with excitement. "My book has been selected!"
Before he could fully register her words, she threw herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her arms clung to his neck as she buried her face against his chest, her heart racing against his own. Then, without thinking, she pressed a flurry of soft kisses onto his cheeks.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
And then, just as suddenly, she kissed him.
A real kiss.
Her lips met his in a moment of unfiltered joy, a brief, sweet touch that sent a jolt of electricity through him. But almost as soon as it happened, she pulled away, eyes widening in realization.
"Uh…" She cleared her throat, her face now burning with embarrassment. "I was just… a little excited."
Edward fought the urge to smirk, watching as she unwrapped herself from him, her feet landing back on solid ground. A little excited? That was an understatement. But he wasn't complaining. If anything, he wished she had lingered just a little longer.
"What did the agent say?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't going to make this awkward for her.
"He wants to publish my book under the company he works for," she gushed, practically bouncing on her toes. "And, get this, he hopes to turn it into a movie!"
Another squeal built in her throat, but she clamped her lips shut to hold it back.
"This means…" she exhaled, her voice softer now. "This means I can finally be free from that monster."
Her smile was radiant, her eyes shimmering with the kind of hope he had always wanted to see in them. But her words…
They stung.
He knew she wasn't directly talking about him, yet somehow, he felt the weight of her words like a knife to his chest.
"Dora…" he hesitated. "You've never even met this fiancé of yours. How do you know he's a bad person?"
She scoffed, arms crossing over her chest. "Oh, please. The fact that he was chosen by my parents is enough proof. That alone tells me he's a bad choice."
Her brows furrowed as she continued, completely unaware of the tension building in his chest.
"I know exactly what kind of person he is," she huffed. "Some pampered rich brat who thinks he can buy his way through life just because he was born with money. Arrogant. Entitled. The kind of guy who changes women like he changes his clothes." She rolled her eyes in disgust. "Do you have any idea how many rumors there are about him? Just the thought of meeting him makes me sick."
Edward remained silent, his jaw tightening.
If only she knew.
"If you ask me," he said carefully, "sometimes rumors aren't always true. Maybe before judging him so harshly, you should meet him first."
She shot him a sharp look, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"Why do you even care?" she asked, finally noticing the strange dullness in his eyes. His usual warmth had faded, replaced with something distant.
A quiet pause settled between them.
Then, Dora sighed, shaking her head. "It doesn't even matter. Because you are the only one I care about."
She stepped closer, her hands gently cupping his jaw. Her eyes softened as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I love you, Edward," she murmured. "That's what matters to me. Not some fiancé I've never met. Not my parents' wishes. Just you."
Edward felt his breath hitch.
The warmth of her palms against his skin. The way she pulled his face closer. The way her lips—those same lips that had kissed him just moments ago—hovered inches away from his own.
Then she closed the distance.
This time, there was no hesitation.
Her lips captured his in a slow, lingering kiss, one filled with every ounce of feeling she had held inside for so long.
Edward didn't fight it.
Didn't want to fight it.
With a deep inhale, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him as he kissed her back. He could taste the faint hint of sour cream from whatever she had eaten earlier, but he didn't care.
Because in this moment, he had everything he wanted.
She had just unknowingly confessed her love to the very man she swore she never wanted to meet.
….
After her mother-in-law's departure, June made her way to the set, where her guests were already seated, waiting for the show to begin. Crew members moved around, finalizing preparations, adjusting cameras, checking lighting, and ensuring the mics were ready for the live broadcast.
She took a deep breath.
Then another.
As she stepped onto the stage, applause filled the air. The audience's eyes followed her every move, but hers fell on the familiar faces seated across from her, the mother, the daughter, and the husband.
Deep breath, June. Deep breath. Whatever they say, don't take it personally.
She coached herself, lowering onto her seat with a calm, collected expression.
The cameras rolled.
The lights brightened.
The show was live.
"So what if I left my daughter in the orphanage for more than twenty years?" the mother scoffed, arms crossed, her voice dripping with arrogance. "I'm back now, aren't I?"
June blinked.
Her fingers curled into a subtle fist on her lap.
Oh, that does it.
Her coaching? Out the window. The carefully written, neutral script? Forgotten.
This woman wasn't just detached, she was proud of her absence. No guilt. No remorse. Nothing.
Keep it professional, June.
F**k that.
The show just got personal.