Arlene
I barely had a moment to breathe after Liam kissed me goodnight, his touch lingering on my skin like a bittersweet promise.
As I watched him bid my father goodnight, his tone polite yet detached, I felt the weight of the evening’s events pressing in on me.
Then, as Liam disappeared into the night, my father’s sharp voice pierced the air.
“Arlene, to my study. Now.”
I recognized that tone. It was the one he used when he was more than just displeased. I followed him without protest, my steps measured, bracing for the storm that awaited behind the doors of his study.
Once inside, he closed the door with a decisive click and turned to face me, his expression a mix of disappointment and restrained fury.
Well, I didn’t expect him to smile at me for coming home pregnant, especially
