Episode 4: Chapter One: - “Meeting The Scotts”
944 Words
The house was nothing like Lilly expected.
She’d imagined something cold and cavernous—high walls, echoing hallways, portraits of stern ancestors glaring down with judgment in their eyes. A place where love was conditional and affection measured.
Instead, it felt… warm.
The Scott estate sat quietly behind wrought-iron gates, framed by old trees whose branches arched protectively overhead. The driveway curved gently, leading to a house that looked lived-in rather than displayed. Light glowed from the windows, soft and inviting, like the house itself was breathing.
Lilly smoothed her hands over her dress for the third time since they’d stepped out of the car.
“You’re going to be fine,” Ethan said beside her.
She glanced at him. He looked composed, as always, but she caught the tightness in his jaw, the subtle tension in his shoulders.
“You say that like you’re convincing yourself,” she teased gently.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Maybe I am.”
Before she could reply, the front door opened.
“Ethan!”
A woman stepped out onto the porch, her face lighting up as though the sun had just risen. She moved quickly, arms already opening.
“Mom,” Ethan said, warmth slipping into his voice before he could stop it.
She embraced him tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve lost weight,” she scolded lightly. “Are you eating properly?”
Lilly watched, surprised.
This wasn’t the distant, formal dynamic she’d imagined. This was… affectionate. Familiar.
“And you must be Lilly,” Evelyn Scott said, turning toward her with a smile that reached her eyes.
Lilly straightened instinctively. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” Evelyn laughed. “You make me feel ancient. Come here.”
Before Lilly could process it, she was being hugged.
It was brief but genuine—and it disarmed her completely.
Inside, the house hummed with life.
Richard Scott, Ethan’s grandfather, sat at the head of the dining table, his sharp eyes assessing her with quiet intensity. But when she met his gaze, he nodded approvingly.
“You’re earlier than expected,” he said.
“She’s punctual,” Ethan replied smoothly. “One of her better traits.”
Lilly shot him a look. He smiled faintly.
Dinner unfolded in a way Lilly hadn’t prepared for.
There were stories. Teasing. Gentle arguments about politics and business decisions. Ethan’s mother asked about Lilly’s interests, her work, her upbringing—not with suspicion, but with curiosity.
And they listened.
Actually listened.
At one point, Ethan excused himself to take a call. Lilly found herself alone with his family, heart thudding.
“So,” Evelyn said softly, pouring more wine into Lilly’s glass. “Tell me about your family.”
Lilly hesitated.
“My mum,” she began slowly. “She’s… strong. Practical. I have siblings. I help take care of them.”
“That’s admirable,” Evelyn said sincerely.
Lilly smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“They depend on you a lot,” Richard observed.
“Yes,” Lilly replied. “Sometimes… that’s all they see.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
No one spoke for a moment.
Evelyn reached across the table and squeezed Lilly’s hand gently. “That can be very heavy.”
Lilly swallowed hard.
She thought of the messages. The reminders. The way affection from home often came wrapped in expectation, measured by what she could provide.
Here, love seemed… freer.
When Ethan returned, he found Lilly quieter, more introspective.
The drive back was slow, the city lights flickering past like distant stars.
“They like you,” Ethan said finally.
“I like them,” Lilly replied. “They’re… kind.”
He glanced at her. “You sound surprised.”
“I am.”
Silence stretched.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Anything.”
“Why didn’t you have a real girlfriend?” Lilly asked carefully. “Someone you actually loved. Why go through all this?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“For people like me,” he said quietly, “love is never just love. It’s leverage. Vulnerability. A liability.”
“That’s sad,” Lilly said softly.
“It’s safe.”
She turned toward him fully. “Is it?”
He didn’t answer.
They reached her apartment. Ethan cut the engine but didn’t move.
“I didn’t choose a fake relationship because I don’t believe in love,” he said finally. “I chose it because real ones cost too much.”
Lilly’s chest ached. “You deserve more than safety, Ethan.”
He looked at her then—really looked at her—and for a moment, the mask cracked.
“So do you.”
He leaned in, stopping just short of her lips.
The moment stretched. Breath mingled. The world narrowed.
Then his phone rang.
The spell shattered.
Ethan checked the screen—and his expression darkened.
“What is it?” Lilly asked.
“There’s a problem,” he said.
“What kind of problem?”
He hesitated. “Someone’s asking questions. About you.”
Her stomach dropped. “Who?”
“Someone who could ruin this.”
The deal.
The lie.
Everything they were becoming.
Ethan reached for her hand, gripping it tightly.
“We need to be careful,” he said. “Because if this comes out—”
“—it ends,” Lilly finished.
They stared at each other, the weight of it pressing down hard.
Neither of them said what they were both thinking.
That losing the deal would hurt.
But losing each other would hurt more.
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