The restaurant was perfect for a dinner date, with its lighting low and intimate and the candles flickering with a soft glow. Music filters through the restaurant in soft tones. This place was romantic and private, but Caleb wasn't feeling it.
His phone sat on the table, face down, and it vibrated almost non-stop in the past hour. Caleb wanted to check, but he didn't want to upset Isabelle. It was ironic; he had wanted to talk to her and wanted to spend time alone with her when she wasn't around. But now, in this cozy corner booth, he couldn't bring himself to focus on her.
Isabelle grabbed his attention. "Caleb, did you hear me?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her dark eyes studying him.
He took a deep breath, realizing he wasn't paying attention. "Sorry, I was just thinking about the presentation tomorrow."
Isabelle pouted slightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass. "You're always thinking about work. I'm talking about a friend's gallery opening next week. Do you want to come with me? It's supposed to be amazing."
Caleb offered a small, apologetic smile. "Maybe. I'll have to check my schedule."
Isabelle sighed, though it was more playful than frustrated. "You and your schedules."
He chuckled softly, and her hand reached out to his. She intertwined their fingers, and their gazes locked. He smiled gently, falling into her beautiful eyes.
But they were suddenly interrupted by the clickclacking of heels, followed by a shrill voice he knew all too well. He turned around, and his heart sank the second he confirmed who was approaching their table.
"Caleb! Darling!" Margaret Reid, Caleb's mother, called out to him. Her voice rang out across the restaurant, far louder than necessary.
She sashayed to their table, her expensive pearls gleaming in the dim light. Her dramatic entrance gathered attention, turning a few heads to their table. She was dressed to the nines in a burgundy, elegant dress with her auburn hair perfectly coiffed.
Behind her, Richard Reid, Caleb's father, followed his wife to their son's table. His expression was stony but resigned. The man was sixty this year, but he was as imposing as when he was in his forties, with graying hair and blue-gray eyes that Caleb inherited.
But unlike his wife, Richard preferred the quiet. He didn't like making a scene, but Margaret did. Her day wouldn't be complete if there was no drama.
"Mother," Caleb greeted, his tone flat, already anticipating the trouble that was about to unfold. "Dad."
Margaret didn't seem to notice the tension in his voice, or probably just ignored it entirely. She leaned to kiss Caleb on the cheek, her perfume overpowering the space between them.
"Oh, darling, I didn't know you'd be here! Isn't this a lovely coincidence?" As she said this, her eyes flicked to Isabelle. Her smile remained soft and charming, though there was an unmistakable glint of disapproval in her expression.
"Isabelle!" She exclaimed. "What a surprise."
Isabelle's smile tightened as she stood up and greeted, "Margaret. Richard. It's nice to see you both."
Richard gave her a curt nod, but Margaret was already sliding into the booth beside Caleb, making herself as comfortable as possible for someone uninvited.
Caleb took a deep breath, trying to control himself from exploding. Why is she here? He thought.
"Richard, sit down," Margaret called, waving a perfectly manicured hand toward the empty chair. Richard hesitated for a second before taking the seat next to Isabelle. The latter stiffened, visibly uncomfortable.
Caleb sighed for the umpteenth time. He always tried to never let his mother and Isabelle cross paths.
They didn't get along.
"Mother," Caleb said, his voice low with warning. "We're in the middle of dinner."
"Oh, don't be silly," Margaret replied, waving him off. "We won't stay long. I just had to stop by and say hello. It's been days since I've seen you, darling."
Caleb clenched his jaw. There's no way this is a coincidence. His mother never did anything without a plan.
She had always been nosy when it came to his love life, and she had made it abundantly clear that she didn't approve of Isabelle.
Isabelle shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes darting between Caleb and his parents. She wasn't one to back down, but she knew not to antagonize Margaret Reid. The woman was famous for being overly dramatic and crazy. But she also couldn't let her get her way.
"Caleb and I were just about to order dessert," Isabelle interjected, her tone smooth but firm. "I'm sure you and Richard have other plans for the evening."
Margaret's smile didn't falter, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as their gazes clashed. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of interrupting. But Isabelle, it's important for Caleb to spend time with his family. You know, in my day, we always prioritized family gatherings over dinners with friends."
Isabelle's voice rose a notch, and it was clear that Margaret got to her as she replied, "Of course, family is very important, even to me. But Caleb and I have been working non-stop lately. We rarely get alone time. But I guess the more, the merrier, right? I'm basically family."
Margaret's smile faltered, and she clenched her perfectly manicured nails.
A sweet smile graced Isabelle's lips, but her eyes delivered something: Maybe you should schedule a visit to the chiropractor instead of trying to run ours.
Margaret ignored the clear jab in Isabelle's eyes as she leaned back on the booth. She crossed her arms in a way that seemed almost rehearsed. "Yes, I've heard you've been so busy. Ballet, right? What a fancy way to say you're twirling around in tights."
Isabelle's hand trembled as she reigned in her temper. She politely replied with a strained smile, "True, but then again, not everyone can appreciate the art. Only a 'certain type' of people will understand, probably those refined individuals with grace and elegance."
Caleb felt like a rubber band stretched too far. He butted in, stopping his mother from making another offensive remark.
"Mother," Caleb said, his voice steady but firm this time, "Isabelle and I were having a quiet dinner. Maybe it's best if you let us finish."
Margaret's eyes widened as if his words genuinely surprised him. "Oh, Caleb, don't be so dramatic. I'm just here to check on you. After all, I am your mom."
Richard, who had been silent up until now, cleared his throat. "Margaret, maybe we should—"
"Richard, please," Margaret cut off, waving a hand in his direction without looking at him. All her focus was on Caleb, as she stated pointedly, "I just want to make sure you're having a great time, darling. We've had this discussion before. I know you think Isabelle here... is all sweet and sunshine. But is she really right for you?"
Caleb's jaw tightened as Isabelle paled. From the moment she arrived, he should have known this would happen. His mother didn't care for the location or occasion.
She always pointed out Isabelle's shortcomings as much as possible. Margaret hated Isabelle with everything she had.
She hated Isabelle's lack of "family values" and "career-oriented" approach.
"Mother, stop," Caleb reproached, his voice as cutting as a sharp dagger. "I don't need you to approve of who I'm with."
"But you should listen to me, Caleb," Margaret pressed, her voice rising slightly. "I've seen this before. Isabelle is never around. She's always off twirling somewhere, and you're—"
"That's enough," Caleb snapped, louder than he intended. The restaurant seemed to grow quieter, and the low murmur of voices disappeared. All eyes were on them.
Great! Caleb wiped his mouth with the table napkin and threw it down. "Please leave," he ordered.
Margaret's eyes flared with a mix of hurt and indignation, but Caleb wasn't backing down. "You don't get to decide who I'm with. Isabelle and I are together, and that's all you need to know."
For a moment, Margaret's expression softened. But then she let out a dramatic sigh, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Oh, Caleb, you don't understand. I just want what's best for you. I've seen this kind of woman before—"
"Margaret," Richard cut her off, his voice firm but quiet, "we should go."
"Richard, don't—" Margaret began, but he placed a hand on her arm, gently but insistently.
"No, Margaret," Richard insisted, standing and offering his hand to help her up. "Let's go."
Margaret hesitated, her eyes darting between Caleb and Isabelle. There were a lot of things she needed to say, but Caleb's hardened expression told her this wasn't the time to push.
"Fine!" She stood in a huff. She turned to her son, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But don't say I didn't warn you. One day, you'll see that I was right."
With that, she stormed out of the restaurant, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. Richard followed closely behind, giving Caleb a brief, apologetic glance before following his wife.
Caleb sat there, his hands clenched into fists on the table, as he stared after his parents. The tension was still there, and his heart was beating like crazy. Anger surged in his veins, but there was no way out.
Isabelle let out a slow breath. "Well," she said, her voice quiet but strained, "that was... something."
His face softened as he looked at her. "I'm sorry."
Isabelle shook her head, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "It's not your fault. I know your mother doesn't like me."
"She's wrong," Caleb corrected her. "She doesn't get to decide who I'm with."
Isabelle smiled with a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "I just... I don't want to come between you and your family, Caleb."
"You're not," he denied it firmly. Margaret was an overbearing mom. She wanted to be in control of him in every aspect of his life. She was pushing harder now, and it started to wear him down.
Isabelle transferred next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Let's not think about it right now," she murmured. "We don't need to let her ruin the night."
Caleb nodded slowly, though his mind raced about the things his mother might do. He wrapped an arm around Isabelle and pulled her closer. If only things were this easy to ignore.
Suddenly, a waiter interrupted them, bowing as he said, "Sir, I'm sorry to inform you, but your mom and dad got into an accident. They hit a car in the parking lot. She said you'll handle it."
Isabelle's smile dropped, and a glint of hatred flashed in her eyes. Caleb stood up, taking a deep breath.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. "Just how far is she willing to go?"