The Proposal Neither Of Us Wanted
1011 Words
Serena’s POV
One month.
It had been one month since I first stepped into Damien’s manor, thinking I would only be here for a few days. One month of waking up in a house that was never mine, surrounded by memories that didn’t belong to me. One month of holding Eleanor’s children in my arms, whispering soft lullabies when they cried for a mother who would never come back.
One month of pretending that this wasn’t slowly becoming my life.
I had been too exhausted to think about the consequences. Too overwhelmed by the weight of everything to question how long this would last. But as I sat in the grand dining room of the Laurent estate, facing the expectant gazes of our families, I realized the time had come.
They wanted an answer.
“Serena, Damien.” My father, Christopher Hayes, spoke first, his voice calm but firm. “It’s been a month since Eleanor’s passing, and we’ve allowed you both time to grieve. But we need to discuss what happens next.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, casting a glance toward Damien. He was sitting beside me, his expression unreadable, but the rigid way he held himself told me he was just as displeased by this conversation as I was.
“What exactly is there to discuss?” Damien finally spoke, his voice clipped.
His father, Charles Laurent, sighed, setting his glass down on the polished table. “Your arrangement can’t continue like this. Serena is an unmarried woman, barely twenty-four years old, living under your roof. People are already talking.”
I stiffened, my fingers curling into my lap.
I had heard the whispers.
At first, people pitied me. They saw a grieving sister, staying behind to care for her orphaned niece and nephew. But as the weeks stretched on, as I remained in Damien’s home without any plans of leaving, the pity had shifted into speculation.
Was I truly staying just for the children?
Or was there something more?
“She’s their aunt,” Damien said coldly. “She’s staying for the twins, not for me. People can talk all they want.”
“Talk can turn into scandal,” my mother interjected. “Serena, you’re still young. You’re unwed. Do you realize what people are saying about you?”
My stomach twisted. I didn’t care about the rumors. I never had. But I knew my family did.
And so did Damien’s.
“The easiest solution,” Damien’s mother, Elena Laurent, said, her voice careful, “is for you two to get married.”
Silence.
The kind that sucked all the air out of the room.
I blinked, sure I had misheard. But no—the way my father nodded in agreement, the way my mother studied my expression as if waiting for an outburst, the way Damien went utterly still beside me—it was real.
They were serious.
I let out a sharp breath, leaning forward. “You’re joking.”
“No, we’re not,” my father said.
Damien exhaled slowly, his hands pressing against the arms of his chair as if physically restraining himself from standing up and walking out. “This is ridiculous.”
“It makes sense,” Charles said, leveling his son with a pointed look. “You already live together. The children are attached to Serena. The world is watching how you handle this, Damien. Do you think business partners, investors, and shareholders want to work with a man tangled in scandal? A widower who has another woman living in his home without a proper title?”
Damien’s jaw clenched. “Serena is not just another woman. She is Eleanor’s sister and the twins’ aunt.”
“And people will still talk,” my mother countered. “This is not only about protecting your reputation, but Serena’s as well.”
I stared at them in disbelief. “You expect me to just marry him? Just like that?”
“We expect you both to do what’s best for the children,” my father said.
I let out a sharp laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Marrying a man who barely tolerates me doesn’t sound like the best idea.”
Damien turned his head toward me, his expression unreadable. “And do you think I want this?”
His voice was calm, but I heard the ice beneath it.
I swallowed, my throat dry.
Of course, he didn’t want this.
Damien Laurent wasn’t a man who followed orders. He was the type of man who bent the world to his will, not the other way around. The idea that our families thought they could control him—control us—was almost laughable.
Almost.
“If you two won’t consider marriage,” Charles said, “then what is your solution? How long will this go on, Serena? Will you stay there forever? Will you put your own life on hold for the twins indefinitely?”
I hesitated.
Because the truth was, I didn’t know.
I had never thought that far ahead.
All I had cared about was making sure the twins were safe, that they weren’t abandoned in the hands of people who didn’t understand them.
And Damien—despite his cold exterior—was the only one who understood them as well as I did.
I had stayed because I couldn’t bear to leave them.
But now… now I was being forced to look at the future, and I didn’t have an answer.
“We’re not getting married,” Damien finally said, his voice firm.
I looked at him in surprise, something tight twisting in my chest.
It wasn’t as if I wanted to marry him. But the finality in his voice, the absolute rejection of the idea, still stung more than I expected.
My father sighed, rubbing his temple. “At least think about it.”
Damien didn’t respond.
And neither did I.
Because despite how much we both despised the idea, I had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the end of the conversation.
- Writer
