IN BLOOM

CHAPTER NINE

The quiet drive

Leah’s POV

The night air felt cooler than I expected when Daniel and I stepped out of the Carter estate together. The heavy oak doors closed softly behind us, muffling the sounds of conversation and laughter that still drifted from inside. His family had wanted us to stay longer, his mother especially, but Daniel had excused us with that smooth decisiveness of his, and now here we were walking side by side, silent, each with our own thoughts.

His car waited in the driveway, sleek and dark, a sharp contrast to the warm glow spilling from the estate windows. I hugged my wrap tighter around my shoulders, partly against the chill, partly for comfort. Tonight had been… overwhelming.

They liked me. His family actually liked me.

They smiled, teased, included me as if I’d been meant to be there all along. And yet every word, every question about the wedding, every hopeful glance across the table had pressed down on me with a weight I wasn’t sure I could carry. Because none of it was real.

Daniel opened the passenger door for me with quiet efficiency. “You’ll freeze out here,” he said, his voice even. Polite. Detached.

“Thank you,” I murmured, slipping inside.

The car smelled faintly of leather and something expensive and subtle, his cologne, maybe. He rounded the hood and got in on his side, closing the door with a soft, definitive click. For a moment neither of us moved. The world outside was hushed, and in the stillness I could hear the quick beat of my own heart.

Finally, he started the engine, the low hum filling the silence. Headlights cut through the long driveway as we began to roll forward.

I stared out the window at the sweeping lawns and trimmed hedges, but my mind replayed the dinner. His grandfather’s insistence. His mother’s warmth. His sister’s curious glances. And Daniel he is always composed, always watchful, as if measuring every word that left my mouth.

“They like you,” Daniel said suddenly, his voice breaking through the quiet.

I turned to him, startled. “What?”

“My family,” he clarified, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “They like you. You handled yourself well tonight.”

My lips pressed into a small, unsure smile. “They were… very kind.”

“They were more than kind,” he said, and for just a second, the corner of his mouth lifted in something close to amusement. “Grandfather hasn’t smiled that much at dinner in years.”

The remark eased something tight in my chest, but only for a moment. “It feels wrong,” I admitted softly.

His brows drew together, though he didn’t glance at me. “Wrong?”

“They believe this is real,” I said, the words rushing out before I could stop them. “That I’m really going to marry you. That I belong in all of this.” My hand gestured faintly toward the world outside—the sprawling estate, the wealth, the legacy. “But it’s… it’s not true.”

Daniel was quiet for a beat too long, and the air in the car thickened.

“Leah,” he said at last, low and steady, “we agreed on this arrangement. You knew what it would mean.”

“I know,” I whispered. “It’s just… harder when they’re so genuine.”

He exhaled slowly, as if weighing what to say. “My family sees what they want to see. That’s not your burden to carry.”

The firmness in his tone made me bite back a response. I folded my hands tightly in my lap, watching the lights of the city grow nearer as we left the countryside behind. The silence stretched again, awkward and taut.

I risked a glance at him. The glow from the dashboard softened his features—strong jaw, serious eyes, hair just a little unruly from the evening. He looked every bit the part of someone who belonged to this life, someone who carried expectations like second skin.

And me? I was just… temporary. A placeholder bride.

I shifted slightly in my seat. “Your sister… she seemed nice,” I said, grasping at something lighter.

That earned me a small, real smile from him. “Amelia? She is. Too curious for her own good, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts asking you questions directly.”

“About the wedding?”

“About everything,” he said dryly.

Despite myself, I laughed softly. The sound filled the car, surprising both of us. He glanced at me then, just briefly, as though he hadn’t expected it either.

The moment passed quickly, but it lingered inside me, a fragile spark.

The rest of the drive slipped between silences and clipped exchanges-about work, about the florist shop, about how soon the wedding date would have to be set. Each word was careful, measured, circling around the truth we couldn’t say.

When we finally pulled up outside my apartment, the quiet wrapped around us again.

Daniel shifted into park but didn’t immediately cut the engine. For a heartbeat, it felt like we were suspended in a space where something could be said, something that mattered.

“Goodnight, Leah,” he said instead, his voice unreadable.

“Goodnight,” I whispered back, fumbling with the door handle.

The air outside was colder than before, but I welcomed it as I stepped out, clutching my wrap. I didn’t look back until I was halfway up the steps. His car was still there, engine idling, headlights casting a glow on the pavement. And then, just as I opened the door to slip inside, he drove away.

Inside, the silence of my apartment pressed close. I leaned against the door, exhaling slowly.

They like me. His family likes me.

But how long before they see the truth?

And why did part of me wish… it wasn’t a lie at all?