The Savage Bride

The Weight of Secrets

I stared out the window at the bustling street below, watching as the golden sunlight cast soft shadows against the lively backdrop of the day. My thoughts drifted back to just three weeks ago, a time that felt like it belonged to a different life altogether.

Three weeks—it wasn’t long, just twenty-one days—but it felt like an eternity now. Back then, everything seemed so normal, so wonderfully predictable. My days were filled with classes, lazy afternoons with Sophie, and family dinners where the most dramatic thing to happen was Dad pretending to care about my pasta anecdotes. If someone had told me my world was about to be flipped upside down, I would’ve laughed in their face. But here I was, stuck in this strange limbo, trying to make sense of it all and failing miserably.

The soft, golden glow of the chandelier bathed the Moretti dining room in a warm light that bounced off the polished wood of the dining table, making the space feel cozy and intimate. I sat at my usual spot, twirling a forkful of creamy white sauce pasta, my laughter bubbling up as I recounted the highlights of my day.

Across from me, Mom leaned back in her chair, the golden light catching in her auburn hair and making it shine like fire. Her warm smile felt like a soft blanket on a cold evening, grounding me at the moment. Meanwhile, Dad occupied his spot at the head of the table, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering glow. He was as silent and observant as always, his eyes watching us with that familiar unreadable expression as he sipped his glass of red wine, the deep red liquid swirling lazily in the glass.

“You know, Mom,” I said, breaking into a grin that stretched from ear to ear. Sophie told me today she’s planning to adopt another cat. Can you believe it? That’ll make it six! Her apartment is going to be completely overrun.”

Mom chuckled softly, shaking her head as if she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh. That girl has always had a soft spot for animals. But six? Honestly, she might need a bigger place at this rate.”

I smirked, stabbing another bite of pasta and savoring the rich flavor before adding a playful glint in my eye, “And you know her boyfriend is allergic to cats. He’s practically on the verge of breaking up with her over this.”

Mom gave me one of her patented mom looks, a blend of amusement and gentle reproach. “Azalea, that’s so mean of you. " It’s not nice to make light of someone else’s serious situation.”

I shrugged, offering her an innocent smile that I hoped would deflect her scolding.

“What? It’s not like I’m the one forcing Sophie to choose cats over her boyfriend. She’s the one who needs to think things through. Besides, it’s kind of funny, don’t you think?”

Dad, who had been quiet until now, finally chimed in with his usual dry humor. “Six cats, huh? I suppose we should be grateful you haven’t brought one home yet.”

I couldn’t help but grin as I pointed my fork at him, my tone light and teasing. “Don’t tempt me, Dad. One day, you might come home to find a furry friend curled up on your favorite chair.”

“Not a chance,” he replied with a raised brow, though the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth gave away his amusement. Dad could try to act all serious and no-nonsense, but deep down, he was just as soft as Mom when it came to me.

The room was alive with warmth, the clinking of silverware punctuating our playful banter. It was one of those moments that felt so ordinary yet so precious, a snapshot of normalcy that I had taken for granted until now. These dinners, these little pockets of joy and familiarity, were the glue that held our family together.

But then Dad set his glass down with a deliberate clink, the sound slicing through the lighthearted atmosphere like a knife. The shift was immediate and impossible to ignore. Both Mom and I turned to him, our smiles fading as we registered the seriousness in his expression.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

I tilted my head, my fork pausing mid-air as I tried to read his face.

“What is it, Dad?”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto mine.

“We’re going to Los Angeles.”

I blinked, the words hanging in the air like a thundercloud.

“Los Angeles? Why? What’s going on?”

“I have some business to attend to there,” he explained, his tone calm but unyielding. “It’s important, and it might take some time—one, maybe two months.”

“Two months?” My voice shot up in disbelief, the fork slipping from my fingers onto the plate with a soft clatter. “But I have just started this semester! You’re asking me to freeze everything and put my life on hold for two months? Dad, that’s insane.”

“I think it’s necessary,” he said firmly, his tone making it clear that this wasn’t up for debate. “This isn’t a decision I’m making lightly, Azalea.”

Mom frowned, her brows knitting together in the way they always did when she was trying to piece something together. “Max, why the sudden urgency? We have so much going on here. Can’t this wait? Can’t you handle it remotely?”

“It’s unavoidable,” he replied, his voice taking on that finality I’d come to resent. “We have to go.”

I stared at him, searching his face for answers, for some clue as to why he was suddenly uprooting our lives with no explanation. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Instead of answering, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor with a sound that made me wince. “I’ll explain everything when the time is right,” he said, his tone softening but still resolute. “For now, trust me. It’s for the best.”

Before I could press him further, he leaned down and placed a kiss on my forehead, his way of silencing me without actually saying ‘Drop it.’ “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

“We’ll be back soon. I’ll do everything I can to wrap things up quickly.”

And just like that, he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. I exchanged a troubled glance with Mom, who looked just as bewildered as I felt. But instead of saying anything, she stood and followed him, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I couldn’t shake the unease that had settled in my chest, heavy and persistent. Something wasn’t right. Dad’s business trips were never this sudden, never this secretive. And the look in his eyes—it wasn’t just serious. It was something else entirely. Something darker.