Episode 5: Explanations
1379 Words
Lila's POV
Dinner was… normal.
My mom was in a good mood, which usually meant she was either avoiding something or saving it for later.
“Why did you insist on cooking this yourself?” she asked, reaching for more.
“Because the chef was going to overdo it,” I said. “You know how he gets when he’s trying to impress you.”
She smiled. “He was trying to impress you.”
“That’s worse.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Still your daughter.”
“Unfortunately.”
I almost smiled.
Then she looked at me again, a little more carefully this time.
“I still can’t believe you’re getting married,” she said.
I sighed, already shaking my head. “Mom…”
“I’m serious,” she continued. “It feels sudden. Even for me.”
“It is sudden,” I said. “That’s kind of the problem.”
She didn’t respond immediately, just watched me for a second.
“You don’t like how this is happening,” she said.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Then say it properly.”
I set my fork down. “I don’t like it. I don’t like that it’s already decided, and I’m just expected to go along with it like it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“Then why does it feel like no one is treating it seriously?”
She let out a small breath. “Lila—”
“No, I mean it,” I said, quieter now but more direct. “You and Dad made a decision that affects my entire life, and I’m just… supposed to adjust?”
Her expression softened, but she didn’t interrupt.
“I don’t even know him,” I added. “And from what I’ve seen, I don’t like him.”
“That might change.”
“That’s not a plan,” I said. “That’s a hope.”
A pause settled between us.
Then she said, more gently, “Come with me.”
Something in her tone shifted just enough for me to notice.
I followed her without arguing.
—
She closed the door behind us, the quiet in her room different from the rest of the house.
More private.
More intentional.
She didn’t speak immediately, and that alone told me this wasn’t going to be a simple conversation.
“What is it?” I asked.
She turned to face me. “There are things you don’t know.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t,” she said honestly.
I waited.
“Your father’s company isn’t as stable as it looks,” she said.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“There have been losses,” she explained. “Not small ones. A few investments didn’t return, and some partnerships didn’t go the way we expected.”
“How long has this been happening?”
“For a while,” she admitted. “We’ve been managing it, covering it where we can. But it’s getting harder to keep things balanced.”
I crossed my arms slightly. “So where does this marriage come in?”
She held my gaze. “It’s not just about marriage. It’s about aligning with a family that has the kind of stability and reach we don’t have right now.”
“So it’s a solution.”
“It’s support,” she corrected. Then, after a second, “But yes… it helps.”
I let out a quiet breath. “So I’m part of that.”
Her expression tightened slightly. “You’re not being traded, Lila.”
“It doesn’t feel very different.”
“I know it looks that way,” she said, stepping a little closer. “But that’s not how we see it.”
“How do you see it?”
“As something that protects everything your father has built,” she said. “And everything that supports this family.”
I didn’t respond immediately.
“Your father wouldn’t tell you this,” she added. “You know how he is.”
“Proud,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Stubborn.”
She gave a small nod. “Also yes.”
I looked away for a moment. “So instead, he decides everything and hopes I’ll just… understand later.”
“He thinks he’s doing what’s necessary,” she said carefully.
“That doesn’t make it fair.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
That made me look back at her.
“I’m not here to convince you this is perfect,” she continued. “It isn’t. But I also don’t want you thinking it’s careless. Or that we didn’t consider what it means for you.”
“It doesn’t feel like that.”
“I know,” she said quietly.
A pause.
Then, softer, “I’m sorry, Lila. I really am.”
The frustration I’d been holding onto didn’t disappear, but it shifted. It wasn’t as sharp anymore.
“I just wish I had a choice,” I said.
“I know.”
She reached for my hand. “You’ve handled difficult things before. You will handle this too.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to.”
“No,” she agreed. “But it means you can.”
I didn’t say anything after that.
—
The next morning felt quieter.
Not tense. Just settled.
Like everything had already been decided, and the only thing left was going along with it.
I was halfway through breakfast when my dad walked in.
“Good,” he said, taking his seat. “You’re ready.”
“For what?”
“There’s an event tonight.”
I didn’t look up. “I’m not going.”
“You are.”
“I’m not,” I repeated, setting my cup down. “I’ve already done enough.”
“This isn’t about what you’ve done,” he said. “It’s about what needs to happen.”
“That sounds exactly like yesterday.”
“Because nothing has changed.”
I finally looked at him. “You really expect me to just… show up and play along?”
“I expect you to take this seriously.”
“I am taking it seriously,” I said. “That’s why I’m questioning it.”
He held my gaze. “He’ll be there.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“It should.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to be spending time with him,” he said. “You might as well start now.”
I shook my head slightly. “You say that like I agreed to it.”
“You don’t have to agree for it to happen.”
That sat there for a second.
Then I asked, “What kind of event is it?”
“An anniversary celebration. Important people will be there.”
“So this is also about appearances.”
“It’s about positioning,” he corrected.
“Same thing.”
He didn’t argue.
“You’ll go,” he said finally.
Again, not a question.
—
By the time I arrived, the event was already in full swing.
Music in the background, quiet conversations, people moving in clusters like they already knew where they belonged.
I paused at the entrance for a second, taking it in.
“Lila?”
I turned.
Noah.
“You made it,” he said.
“Barely.”
He smiled slightly. “That bad?”
“You have no idea.”
“I think I do,” he said. “I didn’t want to be here either.”
That made me look at him properly. “Then why are you?”
“Family expectations,” he said. “They’re hard to ignore.”
“Tell me about it.”
A small pause.
“Do you want to go in together?” he asked. “Might make it slightly less painful.”
I considered it for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”
He offered his arm, easy, like it wasn’t a big deal.
I took it.
“At least we won’t look miserable alone,” he said.
“That’s something.”
We walked in together.
And then I saw him.
Adrian.
Already looking in our direction.
- Writer
