"Lucas, with such a rude condition, how can we, the Zeller family, do right by Claire?" Helen Zeller's voice carried a mixture of reproach and determination as her sharp gaze shifted between her pale-faced daughter-in-law-to-be and her stubborn son. "Marriage isn't just some legal formality; it's a celebration. Even if we don't tell Bella or the rest of the family, there must be a wedding. We can't treat Claire unfairly."
The room fell silent, the weight of Helen's words settling heavily on everyone present. Claire looked down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat refusing to disappear. She didn't dare speak. What could she say? This wasn't her decision to make.
But deep inside, she couldn't ignore the ache of disappointment. Like many young women, she had dreamed of a wedding—a beautiful day shared with loved ones, a moment to cherish forever. Admitting that dream now felt selfish and, frankly, futile.
Lucas crossed his arms, his expression a careful blend of defiance and indifference. "Mom, Claire and I agreed," he said pointedly, his gaze flickering to Claire's face. "Isn't that right, Claire?"
Startled, Claire glanced up, locking eyes with him for the briefest of moments. His dark gaze bore into hers, challenging her to either confirm or deny his claim. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Lucas studied her, trying to read the flicker of emotions she hid so well. *Is she really fine with this?* He doubted it. The slight tremble in her fingers betrayed her composure.
Determined to test her, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a teasing murmur. "So, Snail, are you always this agreeable? Or are you just too tired to care?"
The unexpected proximity made Claire instinctively lean back, her face flushing pink. "What are you talking about?" she whispered, her tone flustered but polite.
Helen intervened, her sharp voice cutting through the awkward moment. "Lucas, enough of this nonsense. Claire's not some pawn in a game. Marriage requires respect and consideration."
Lucas sighed, straightening and stepping back. "Mom, if Claire had a problem with it, she would've said something by now. Right, Claire?"
Claire hesitated, glancing between Lucas and Helen. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Mrs. Zeller," she said softly, "please don't worry. I understand Lucas's reasoning, and I don't feel wronged. What really matters isn't the ceremony—it's how we build a life together afterward."
Helen's brows furrowed, a pang of guilt tugging at her heart. "Claire, you're such a thoughtful child," she said, reaching out to clasp her hands warmly. "But still, a part of me can't help but feel like we're rushing this. I don't want you to feel pressured or overlooked."
Claire shook her head, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I promise I'm fine, Mrs. Zeller. Please don't worry about me."
Helen sighed, releasing her hands and patting her shoulder affectionately. "You've had a long day at work, dear. Go get some rest, and we'll sort through everything in the morning."
---
Later that night, Claire carefully opened the door to the bedroom she now shared with Lucas. She stepped inside quietly, her heart pounding in her chest as her gaze sought out his figure. He was already lying on the bed, turned away from her, his steady breathing giving the impression of sleep.
*Thank goodness,* she thought with relief. Facing Lucas right now felt impossible. She wasn't sure how to handle his piercing stares or the way his words seemed to twist her emotions in ways she couldn't fully understand.
Moving carefully, Claire grabbed her pajamas from the dresser and slipped into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her with a soft click and leaned against it, letting out a long, shaky breath. The weight of the day's events pressed down on her, and for the first time since Mrs. Zeller's announcement, she allowed herself a moment to truly feel the fear and uncertainty swirling within her.
*Marriage? Tomorrow? To Lucas?* The thought seemed unreal, like something out of a dream—or perhaps a nightmare. Claire splashed her face with cool water, hoping to steady herself. She couldn't afford to break down now.
Meanwhile, back in the bedroom, the "asleep" Lucas opened his eyes, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. He turned onto his back, his hands folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. *So she's not as unaffected as she pretends to be,* he thought. Her nervous glances and soft blushes hadn't gone unnoticed.
The bathroom door creaked open a few minutes later, and Claire emerged, dressed in simple cotton pajamas. She froze when she noticed Lucas watching her, his gaze sharp and focused.
"Uh… I thought you were asleep," she stammered, clutching the edge of her sleeve nervously.
"Couldn't sleep," he said casually, sitting up slightly and leaning back against the headboard. "What about you? Nervous about tomorrow?"
Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly averted her gaze. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucas studied her for a moment longer before lying back down, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. "Well, don't stay up worrying too much. It's not like we're getting married or anything," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Claire gave him a sidelong glance, her lips twitching into the faintest of smiles despite herself. "Goodnight, Lucas," she said softly, turning off the light and climbing into bed.
"Goodnight, Snail," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement.
In the darkness, the tension in the room began to ease, and for a fleeting moment, Claire allowed herself to imagine that maybe—just maybe—things wouldn't be so bad after all.