I was still trying to wrap my head around the chaos of the past few hours when Nyssa and I slipped away from the noise and found ourselves in a quieter part of the house. It felt like a long sigh after an exhausting marathon—finally, some peace. But as we stepped back into the living room, the first thing I noticed was that the party had already been disbanded. My extended family had packed up and left, their voices still echoing through the house, but their energy was already fading.
But there was one thing I wasn't prepared for: Nyssa's expression when she saw the row of expensive cars lined up outside the house. Her eyes widened as she stood frozen in place, looking out the window at the sleek, polished vehicles. Her throat visibly moved as she swallowed.
Oh. Crap.
I had kind of forgotten just how much money my family had. I mean, I was used to it. But Nyssa? She wasn't. She was seeing it all for the first time—the level of luxury I'd taken for granted.
Great, she's probably regretting this now.
I wanted to say something, anything, to make it easier for her, but the sight of her unease hit me hard. How had I not noticed before that all of this—the fancy house, the extravagant parties, the crazy amount of stuff—was way out of her comfort zone?
"Uh..." I mumbled, my eyes darting around. "We don't usually do the whole grand entrance celebration thing, I swear." But my words felt weak as I looked around at the marble floors and crystal chandeliers, my family's wealth glaring at me from every angle.
Nyssa barely looked at me. Her gaze was fixed on the view outside, her fingers gently grasping the corners of her notebook. It was like she was taking it all in, trying to process the magnitude of the situation.
Before I could try to ease her nerves, my mom appeared from the hallway, wiping away a tear from her cheek—probably still in post-celebration emotional overload. She shot us both a bright smile and started directing the staff to clean up the last remnants of the evening.
But my dad, ever the stoic figure, made a beeline for us, eyes sharp as he scanned Nyssa with the kind of scrutiny I wasn't used to seeing.
The moment we entered the living room, my dad's entire demeanor shifted into "serious interrogation" mode. He gestured for Nyssa to sit while he stood with his arms crossed like he was about to grill her on a witness stand. I stayed in the background, fidgeting awkwardly. Why does this feel like a crime drama, and why am I the one on trial?
"Henry," my dad said, his voice low and steady. "I need to talk to Nyssa for a bit. Alone."
"Wait, what?" I stammered, my heart skipping a beat. "Why alone? What are you going to—?"
"Go sit down, son," he cut me off, pointing at a chair in the corner. "We'll handle this."
We'll handle this? What does that even mean?! Begrudgingly, I shuffled over to the chair like a scolded puppy, shooting Nyssa an apologetic look as my dad took center stage.
Nyssa, ever composed, sat down gracefully. But I knew her well enough by now to see the faint nervousness in the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. Even so, she looked like she was ready to take on a boardroom, not a grilling from my dad.
"Nyssa," my dad began, his tone carrying the weight of every bad rom-com interrogation scene I'd ever seen, "what are your intentions with my son?"
Oh my god. He said it. Like an unapproving dad of his daughter's boyfriend.
But he only had a son.
I'M THE SON!!
My palms met my face as I let out a muffled groan. "Dad, seriously—"
But Nyssa, bless her, didn't even blink. She straightened her posture, tilting her head slightly as if she were considering how best to phrase her answer. "Mr. Novar," she said calmly, her voice steady, "I care deeply for Henry. I'm here for a serious relationship- I'm here because I value him."
Her words made my chest tighten, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. She values me. But before I could bask in the warmth of her words, my dad raised a finger dramatically.
"Wait just a second," he said, squinting at her. "Are you here for his body? Or his money?"
I froze. Nyssa froze. And then my dad smirked, clearly reveling in his theatrics.
This is it. I'm going to die of secondhand embarrassment.
"Dad!" I practically yelled, bolting upright. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
But Nyssa—my goddess, my hero—simply tilted her head, considering his question. And then, with a teasing glint in her eye, she said, "Well, if I'm being honest... His body is quite nice."
I gasped, clutching my chest dramatically. "You mean to tell me you're not here for my charming personality and encyclopedic knowledge of trivia? I feel so used."
Nyssa rolled her eyes but burst into laughter, her voice light and carefree. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Henry. I do appreciate the whole package, you don't have encyclopedic knowledge of trivia since you can barely memorize our study sessions, but yes your body was definitely part of it."
Before I could respond, my dad let out a hearty laugh, clapping his hands together. "Finally! Someone who's honest. I knew my son was more than just a pretty face."
I crossed my arms, feigning indignation. "Yeah, well, I guess I should've known I was a catch when I woke up to my own reflection every morning."
Nyssa snorted, reaching out to playfully push my arm. "Don't be modest," she teased, leaning in slightly. "You know you're the most handsome guy in the room."
My dad's laughter boomed through the room, but then his face shifted into an exaggeratedly serious expression again. He pointed a dramatic finger at Nyssa.
"I won't let you have my son!" he declared, his voice loud enough to rattle the chandelier.
Nyssa and I both froze, staring at him in wide-eyed confusion.
"What—?" I started, but he wasn't done.
"I mean it! You think you can just waltz in here, sweep him off his feet, and—"
Nyssa, clearly unfazed, raised an eyebrow and said with a perfectly calm voice, "Maybe we should just elope, then."
I nearly fell out of my chair. "Wait, what? You were the one who said we should take things slow!"
She shrugged, her smirk widening. "Well, if your dad's going to throw down the gauntlet, I figured I'd throw one back."
My dad blinked, clearly not expecting that, and then he... started laughing. Like, belly laughing. "I was kidding, you two!" he said between chuckles, waving his hands in surrender. "Oh, you kids! I always wanted to say those lines. They're classics!"
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Dad, please. You're going to give her the wrong idea."
Nyssa just smiled, leaning closer to me. "I think your dad's having too much fun with this," she whispered.
"You think?" I muttered, feeling my ears burn.
"Well," my dad said, still grinning like he'd just won the dad lottery, "I think I've seen enough for one night. Welcome to the family, Nyssa. You've clearly got what it takes to handle him." He gestured toward me with a thumb. "He's a handful, you know."
Nyssa chuckled. "I think I can manage." She can manage me dicking down on her for sure.
"Good," my dad said, patting her shoulder before walking away. "But seriously, no eloping without asking me first!"
As he left the room, Nyssa turned to me, her cheeks still pink but her smile genuine. "Your dad is... a lot."
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "You don't even know the half of it."
Her laugh was soft but full of warmth, and in that moment, I realized something: no matter how chaotic my family was, Nyssa wasn't running away. She was staying. And that, more than anything, made me feel like the luckiest guy alive.
As we followed my parents into the dining room, a strange thought crept into my head. My dad—Victor the Stoic Novar—had spent the entire evening cracking jokes, setting off fireworks, and grilling Nyssa with the comedic timing of a stand-up veteran.
This was the same man who, in my past life, had practically demanded I marry Dahlia, no questions asked. The same man who had looked at me with disappointment every time I pushed back against his plans for my future. The dad who had always been so serious, so unyielding.
And yet, here he was, leaning casually against the dining table, a small grin playing at the corner of his mouth as he passed Nyssa a plate of dessert.
"So, Nyssa," he began, his tone light but still carrying that air of authority, "what's the plan now that you've charmed my son and survived your interrogation?"
Nyssa blinked, caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a shy smile. "Well, Mr. Novar, I was thinking of helping Henry get through midterms first. After that, who knows? One step at a time, right?"
My dad chuckled, nodding approvingly. "Good answer. And please, call me Victor. You've earned it."
I froze, staring at him. Call me Victor? Did my dad just... lower his guard? To anyone?
"Thanks... Victor," Nyssa said, the name rolling awkwardly off her tongue but still managing to sound sincere.
My mom, who had been quietly arranging plates, suddenly clapped her hands together. "You're such a natural, Nyssa! I always knew Henry would need someone like you to balance him out."
"Mom!" I groaned, feeling the heat rise to my face. "Can we not make this a whole thing?"
"Oh, sweetie," she said with a grin, "this is already a whole thing. We're just living in it."
I slumped in my seat, glancing at Nyssa to see if she was overwhelmed by the chaos. But to my surprise, she seemed... relaxed. She was smiling as she sipped her tea, even laughing softly at something my dad said.
My dad. Laughing and joking with my girlfriend.
I couldn't wrap my head around it.
The memory of him from my first life surfaced—stern, unwavering, his every decision weighing on me like a mountain. He had been so focused on keeping up appearances, on ensuring the family legacy, that he hadn't seemed to care about what I wanted. Watching him now, I realized just how different things were this time around.
It wasn't just that he was joking. It wasn't just that he'd accepted Nyssa so easily. It was the way he looked at her, the way he treated her like she mattered—not as some piece in a larger game, but as a person.
I felt my chest tighten, the realization hitting me hard. He wasn't just my father anymore. He was... human.
Flawed, funny, and capable of growth.
"Henry," my dad said suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You okay over there? You've been staring at your cake like it owes you money."
I blinked, startled, and then let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, just... thinking."
He smirked, shaking his head. "Don't think too hard, son. You might sprain something."
Nyssa snorted into her tea, and I shot her a mock glare. "Et tu me er ha yu, Nyssa?"
She grinned, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry, Henry. He's funny."
"Funny?" I repeated, gesturing dramatically at my dad. "This man? Are we looking at the same person?"
"Careful," my dad warned, his voice laced with humor. "I might start charging you rent for that attitude."
Nyssa burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but join her.
As the laughter died down, I glanced at my dad again, my heart feeling unexpectedly light. This was the man who had once loomed so large in my life, who had made me feel like I had no choice but to follow his path. But now, seeing him like this—with Nyssa, with me—I realized how much I'd misunderstood him.
Maybe he wasn't as stoic as I'd always thought. Maybe I'd just never given him a chance to show this side of himself.
I caught Nyssa's gaze and gave her a small smile. She smiled back, her cheeks pink but her eyes warm.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like things might actually be okay.
Because this time, I wasn't alone. I had her. And somehow, I had my family, too.
Just as I thought we were settling into some semblance of normalcy after the chaos of the party, my dad dropped a bombshell that sent my heart racing.
"Well," he said, setting down his coffee cup with the kind of seriousness that always made my pulse quicken, "the construction crew is coming tomorrow to start soundproofing Henry's room."
"Wait, what?" I sputtered, nearly choking on my tea. My eyes darted toward Nyssa, hoping she hadn't heard him. But I could see her glancing at me with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Great. Just what I needed—an audience for this.
"Henry, you know why," my dad said, leaning back in his chair, his expression unreadable but his eyes twinkling with mischief.
I shot him a warning glance. "Can we not have this conversation with Nyssa here?"
"Don't worry, Henry," my mom chimed in, her voice soothing but with a spark of excitement. "It's all for your comfort and your studies."
I looked at her, brows knitting. "Comfort? Studies?" What was she even talking about?
My dad let out a low chuckle. "Just making sure no one has to hear anything in the future. Consider it... an investment." He raised his eyebrows at me, as if daring me to argue.
Nyssa tilted her head, the corners of her lips twitching upward. "An investment?" she repeated, eyes wide with amusement.
"Yes, dear," my mom said, her hands clapping together. "And since the construction might be noisy, we've arranged for you two to stay somewhere quieter while it's happening."
"Somewhere... quieter?" I echoed, my voice trailing off.
Her grin widened, and she nearly clapped in excitement. "The Grand Imperial Hotel, of course! We've booked you a suite."
My jaw dropped. "The Grand Imperial? The place with the gold-plated faucets and beds that cost more than a car?"
"That's the one," my dad said, a grin spreading across his face. "It's got everything you need: peace, privacy, and space to study for midterms."
Nyssa's eyes lit up with humor as she glanced at me, her green gaze shining. "Wow. Your parents really know how to go big, don't they?"
"You have no idea," I muttered, feeling like I was going to burst from secondhand embarrassment and sheer confusion.
My mom waved off my protests like they were nothing. "Oh, Henry, it's the least we can do. You need to focus on your studies, and Nyssa deserves to be treated like the wonderful young lady she is."
Nyssa's face flushed pink as she looked at my mom. "That's... very generous of you, Mrs. Novar," she said, voice slightly trembling but warm.
"Oh, please, call me Eleanor," my mom insisted, beaming at her. "We're practically family now, after all."
Nyssa's smile grew a little, her cheeks still tinged with pink. I felt heat rise up my neck as I looked at her, but before I could say anything, my dad stood up, stretching his arms with a satisfied grunt.
"We'll have the car ready to take you two in the morning. Pack whatever you need tonight," he said, the authoritative tone in his voice settling like a challenge.
"And don't worry about the bill," my mom added cheerfully, tapping the table with a finger. "It's all taken care of. Just focus on your studies and try not to stress too much."
Try not to stress? I swallowed, glancing at Nyssa. This wasn't how I envisioned spending the week before midterms. But I looked at her—how she smiled at me, even amid the chaos—and felt a little knot of relief. At least I had her by my side.
Nyssa reached out and took my hand, the warmth of her touch grounding me in the moment. "Hey," she said softly, meeting my eyes, her smile steady and reassuring. "It'll be fine. We'll study, we'll get through midterms, and then we'll figure out the rest. One step at a time, right?"
I nodded, the tension in my chest easing a little. "Yeah. One step at a time."
And as my parents bustled out of the room, ready to start the preparations for their extravagant idea of "quiet study time," I felt a small smile creep across my face. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.