CHAPTER 4
1501 Words
IAN
“Darling!! She’s here!” My mom’s voice was sharp and happy from downstairs.
I wondered why she was so excited to meet this girl. My mom loves cooking, and she always goes all out when my dad’s business partners visit. But for Emily, it felt different. I didn’t understand why she was trying so hard for a scholarship student.
I kept reading my book, ignoring her.
“Darling! Your dad is waiting!” she called again.
“I’m getting dressed, Mom,” I said, almost in a whisper.
I stood up and put on some simple, casual clothes. I ran my fingers through my hair and walked to the stairs, getting ready for whatever was coming. My dad sees me as a failure now, and that thought felt heavier with every step I took down the marble stairs. I kept my eyes on my feet.
When I reached the last step, I straightened my shoulders and finally looked up.
I saw her.
She was sitting calmly, smiling at my parents. The light from the big chandelier shone around her. She wasn’t dressed in fancy clothes or trying to get attention, but she seemed to fill the whole room with a warm feeling.
I stared for too long. My chest felt tight, in a way I didn’t recognize. I hated how easy it felt to look at her, and how easily the thought had slipped into my mind.
She noticed me watching. Of course she did. Her eyes met mine, steady and questioning, almost daring me to speak.
For a second, I forgot I was supposed to be the guy with the cold smile and the careless attitude.
So I looked away first. Letting myself feel anything felt too dangerous.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” my dad said.
I didn’t say a word. I walked over and sat right across from Emily.
“Son, I was just asking Miss Emily about her first day at her new school,” my dad said, looking straight at her.
My eyes moved to her.
“It was challenging,” she said, her gaze moving from me to my dad.
My dad’s face changed. He didn’t look worried for her, but worried about what she might say next.
“Finding all the offices and classrooms was the hardest part,” Emily added.
Both my parents burst out laughing. It wasn’t just a normal laugh; it was the kind that echoed through the whole house.
“I have to admit, you’ve got a good sense of humor,” my mom said, her voice light and cheerful.
“Okay, let’s eat. Would you like some spaghetti? Or, never mind, just take whatever you want,” my mom said, waving for a maid to start serving the food.
My mother leaned forward, her smile perfect and warm enough to fool anyone.
“We’re happy to help you, Emily. Truly. Young people like you deserve opportunities… though not everyone can handle the pressure.”
Emily nodded politely, but I saw a flash of something in her eyes.
“I’m grateful for the chance, Mrs. Whitmore. I know it’s not something to take lightly.”
My father let out a low, deliberate chuckle.
“Gratitude is a good start. But what matters more is what you do with what you’re given. Some students waste their scholarships. I trust you won’t be one of them.”
Emily’s back straightened. Her fingers touched the edge of her glass, as if to steady herself.
“I wouldn’t be here if I planned to waste it.”
A short silence fell, broken only by the sound of forks and knives. My father laughed softly.
“Confidence. I like that. But remember, we’ll be watching your progress. Helping you isn’t charity, it’s an investment.”
Emily nodded. “I won’t disappoint you, sir.”
I watched all of this quietly. My parents already liked her. I could tell from their faces and their gestures. My dad, who usually acts so professional, was laughing like a little kid.
“Oh, I guess you’ve met my son, Ian,” he said.
“Oh, yes, sir. We met in class today,” she said, leaning back in her chair.
“Did we?” I tilted my head, acting like I wasn’t sure.
She gave a small, closed-lipped smile. The chandelier light made her cheeks glow.
“Yes, we did,” she answered.
“Oh, that’s good,” my dad said. “I’d love for you two to work together often.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that.
The room went quiet again.
“I’m so sorry about your parents, dear. No child deserves that,” my mom said, her voice full of sadness.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Emily replied, her voice unsteady. She bowed her head.
My mom reached out and held her hand firmly.
“It’s disheartening that my dad never got to see me reach this point,” Emily whispered, her head still down. I could hear the tears in her voice.
“Oh, honey,” my mom whispered, her voice thick with sympathy.
Emily cried softly, her head still bowed as if she could hide her pain. When she finally wiped her face and looked up, her eyes were sad and tinged with red.
Seeing her like that made me feel a strange discomfort.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” my mom asked, her voice gentle.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, ma’am,” Emily whispered, her voice almost too quiet to hear.
“Oh, stop with the formality. You can call me Helena,” my mom said gently. She’s never been that nice to Jenna.
Emily gave a small nod, her lips pressed tightly together.
I cleared my throat. The sound was too loud in the quiet room. “If you’re fine, then… good.” The words came out cold and stiff. I hated how they sounded, but it was easier than admitting that seeing her cry had gotten to me.
Her eyes flicked to mine, unsure. I forced myself to look down, pushing the food around on my plate.
I looked up and saw my dad’s furious face, though he didn’t say anything. My mom gave me a look that said, Why would you say that?
The room was silent once more.
Emily shifted in her seat and then stood up, smoothing her dress with her hands.
“Uhm—thank you, truly, for your support and care. I… I really appreciate it. But it’s getting late, and I should be heading home before my grandmother starts to worry. She won’t sleep until I walk through the door,” she said, bowing her head politely as she excused herself.
My father set his glass down with a soft click, his eyes on her. “Family worry is a luxury,” he said evenly, with a brief smile.
My mom smiled and turned to me. “Ian, why don’t you escort her out?” Her tone left no room for argument.
I didn’t care at first, but I had to do it. I didn’t want to look my dad in the eye and start another argument. Not now, not with Emily still here.
I stood and walked behind her as she moved toward the main exit.
The night air was cool, a welcome change from the heavy feeling in the dining room.
We stood waiting for Mr. Williams to bring the car around.
I stood behind her, and she turned to face me.
“You really don’t have to walk me out if you don’t want to,” she said softly.
“Relax, I’m not doing this for you,” I answered, my eyes on the driveway, looking for the car’s headlights. “It just… gets me out of there for a while.”
His arrival might save me from saying something I shouldn’t.
We both fell silent, and just then, Mr. Williams arrived. He got out and opened the car door for her.
She paused before getting in, looked back at me, and smiled.
“You’re not as scary as you pretend to be, Ian. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
She gave me one last look before sliding into the car. The door closed softly behind her.
I couldn’t say anything. Her words shocked me, playing over and over in my head like a song I couldn’t forget.
What did she mean by that? What was she thinking? When did I ever act like I wasn’t the cold, untouchable person everyone knows? Did I slip up? Did I show something without realizing?
The idea bothered me more than it should have. I wasn’t supposed to care what she thought. I wasn’t supposed to let her words stick with me.
For a moment, I almost let myself think about it, almost let my guard down.
But I shook it off. I had bigger problems waiting inside than trying to figure out Emily Eren’s strange way of seeing me.
- Writer
