I took a deep breath, determined to reason with Mom while she was still in a semi-understanding mood. "Mom, I know you're worried about my future, but marriage isn't the solution. Just give me a chance to fix things—let me retake my exams or find a job—"
Before I could finish, her phone buzzed sharply on the counter. She sighed, checking the screen. "It's work. They need me."
"Wait! What about our conversation?" I pressed, panic creeping into my voice.
Mom grabbed her purse and keys with practiced efficiency. "We'll talk tomorrow, Mika. I promise."
"But—"
She was already halfway out the door. "Be good! And don't burn the house down!" she called as she disappeared down the driveway.
I groaned, flopping onto the couch. "We'll talk tomorrow," I mimicked under my breath. Tomorrow was just another excuse for never. I pull out my phone and immediatelybegan to scroll through social media.
It felt like more than an hour went by then suddenly the doorbell rang, snapping me out of comfort. I groaned, dragging my hands down my face.
"Oh, great... who is it now?" I muttered, stomping toward the door. I forced on a polite smile—the kind that said I'm only answering this door because I have no choice.
I opened the door, ready for anything—except him.
A tall, lean, and muscular man stood on the porch, holding a modest bouquet of flowers. His long black hair was partially tied back in a neat man bun, with a few loose strands framing his sharply defined face. His dark eyes met mine, steady but cautious, as though he wasn't entirely sure how this encounter would go.
"Good evening," he said smoothly, his deep voice calm but firm. "I'm... here to see Mrs. Hart."
I blinked, momentarily thrown off by his presence. He looked like someone who belonged in a dramatic period film—not on my doorstep.
"Uh... she's not home right now," I managed awkwardly, still trying to process his unexpectedly formal appearance.
His eyebrows lifted slightly, just enough to signal mild surprise. "Oh." He shifted the bouquet in his hand. "She... invited me over."
"She didn't mention she'd be working late?" I asked, crossing my arms defensively.
"No," he admitted, adjusting his posture, looking more composed than anyone in this situation had a right to be. "I must have misunderstood."
For a moment, an awkward silence stretched between us. I couldn't tell if he was about to leave or wait forever.
After a long pause, he held out the flowers, his expression earnest but a little uncertain. "These... were for her."
I stared at the bouquet, feeling weirdly guilty. "Um... I can take them. For her, I mean."
His lips quirked in the faintest of smiles, as if he found my awkwardness amusing. "Thank you."
I took the flowers carefully, still trying to figure out how this very polite, very attractive stranger fit into my mom's latest scheme.
"I'm Mika," I offered hesitantly, feeling like introductions were overdue.
"Kian," he replied, giving a small nod. "It's... nice to meet you."
Another awkward silence settled between us, neither of us quite sure what to say next. He seemed perfectly at ease, while I was busy overanalyzing everything.
"So... how exactly do you know my mom?" I asked, voice a bit sharper than intended.
His expression softened slightly. "We... spoke recently. She asked me to come by."
Of course, she did.
I sighed inwardly, clutching the flowers like a lifeline. This is going to be a long day.