Unscripted After

Chapter 6

The following weekend, Cassian held my hand like it meant something, like this wasn’t just the first test of a very bad idea.

Like he wasn’t dragging his best friend into a carefully orchestrated performance. Like he wasn’t about to lie through his teeth to the people who raised him.

“Talia, just... breathe,” he murmured as we stood in front of the towering double doors of the Locke estate.

“They’ll love you.” I shot him a sideways glare.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He squeezed my hand gently. “Then what is?”

“That I’ll forget this is fake,” I muttered.

Before he could respond, the door opened. By a sharply dressed butler, posture so perfect he could’ve trained royalty in it.

“Mr. Cassian. Miss Talia,” he said with a slight bow. “Please, come in.”

We stepped inside, into a foyer so grand it made my knees wobble.

The scent of polished wood and fresh-cut flowers filled the air. A few staff members moved quietly in the background, a maid arranging a floral centerpiece, another heading upstairs with folded linens.

Everything was elegant, purposeful, subdued, not flashy.

This wasn’t wealth meant to impress. This was wealth that assumed its place.

I didn’t belong here.

The butler led us through wide hallways with high ceilings and tasteful art until we reached the formal living room. Sunlight spilled in from large windows, soft music played somewhere in the background, and the furniture looked more expensive than my entire apartment.

“We’ll wait here,” Cassian said to me as we sat. “Dinner won’t take long.” Sure enough, a few minutes later, a uniformed woman stepped in and gave a polite nod.

“Dinner is served.” We followed her to the dining room, where the table was already set in quiet perfection.

And then, she appeared. Evelyn Locke.

Ice in human form. She didn’t need words to express disapproval. One glance, crisp, calculating, did the job. Her posture, her pearls, the sharp arch of her brow. It was all part of the Locke armor.

“Cassian.” Then her eyes flicked to me. “And this must be...?”

“Talia,” he said, voice smooth, deliberate. “My fiancée.” Evelyn’s brows lifted a fraction of an inch. For her, that was practically fainting.

“Fiancée?” “Yes,” I said, matching her coolness with a practiced smile.

“We’ve been keeping things quiet. But we’re very happy.”

“You don’t say.” Her smile was all teeth and no warmth.

Then came Charles Locke, warm, booming, and genuinely kind-eyed. “Welcome to the family, Talia. We’ve heard your name more times than I can count. Didn’t realize you two were... involved.” I laughed lightly.

“Neither did we. Until we were.” Cassian gave me a sideways glance, impressed. I couldn’t tell if I should be proud of how natural this felt... or terrified by it.

Dinner was a five-course masterpiece, each plate more beautiful and expensive-looking than the last, but I barely tasted a thing. My nerves were louder than any flavor.

The questions came in waves. Mia, Cassian’s younger sister, sipped wine and smirked at me over the rim of her glass.

“So,” she said, lounging effortlessly.

“When’s the wedding?”

“Soon,” I answered, keeping the mystery alive with a smile that said nothing. Evelyn, wine in hand, eyed me like a headhunter evaluating a potential intern.

“And what exactly do you do, dear?”

“I’m a writer,” I replied calmly.

“I’ve published a few novels. Mostly character-driven fiction. Love, loss, complicated families. A bit ironic, I guess, considering tonight.”

Charles’s interest visibly piqued. “Anything we might’ve heard of?”

“One of them, Still Here... did pretty well,” I said, trying not to sound like I was name-dropping myself.

Mia blinked. “Wait. Still Here? The beach scene in chapter fifteen nearly destroyed me. That was you?”

I smiled, cheeks warming. “Guilty.”

Evelyn took a long sip of wine. “How... creative.” Then came the inevitable.

“And is that... sustainable? How do you plan to support each other financially?” Her voice was sweet poison.

“Mom,” Cassian warned. “It’s a fair question,” she said smoothly.

Cassian leaned back, casually placing his arm behind my chair. “Talia and I are equals. We support each other. Period.” That shut her up, at least for now. But she wasn’t done.

“And your family, Talia?” she asked, folding her hands like this was an interview. “Do they live nearby?”

I sat a little straighter. “No. My parents passed when I was ten. I was raised by my grandmother.”

Charles softened immediately. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She passed a few years ago,” I added, quieter now. “It’s just me.”

A pause. Then Mia reached under the table and gave my hand a small, grounding squeeze. “Sounds like she did a good job,” she said softly. My throat tightened. I nodded. “She did.”

Later, while a maid cleared the main plates and another quietly brought in dessert, Mia leaned toward me with a mischievous smirk.

“Just so you know… I always knew you two had a thing… you're not that subtle.”

I blinked. “It’s that obvious?”

She smirked. “Was. But I’m glad it’s finally happening. Cassian’s always lighter when you’re around. Even when he didn’t know why.”

That landed harder than I expected. I gave her a quiet, “Thanks, Mia.” But deep down, I thought: God, I hope you’re right.

After dinner, when the last fork had clinked and the wine had stopped flowing, Evelyn disappeared into her study, Charles retired to the den for the news, and Mia vanished upstairs, probably texting someone who made her laugh like that.

Cassian and I stepped out onto the balcony, the air cool and laced with the scent of distant jasmine. I leaned on the railing, letting the night soothe my rattled nerves.

“You did good,” he said beside me, voice lower now. Softer. Just for me. I shrugged.

“Thanks. Pretty sure your mom already pegged me as a fraud.”

“She doesn’t know anything. She’s just... Evelyn.”

“Charming,” I muttered. He chuckled.

“Don’t take it personally. She’s not impressed by billion-dollar deals either.”

“Then how do you ever feel good enough?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. He paused. Then quietly: “I don’t. Not really.” It wasn’t a punch. It was a slow ache that settled somewhere deep.

“Cassian…” He offered a small, tired smile. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. If it gets too heavy, say the word and—”

“And what?” I stepped closer, arms crossed. “You’ll let me go?”

“I don’t want to,” he said, too serious for comfort. “But I don’t want to ruin us either.

You’re—” He stopped, jaw tightening.

“You’re the only thing that still feels safe.” God, I wanted to believe that.

“Then don’t lie to me,” I whispered. “Not in here. Not when it’s just us.”

He looked at me truly looked and something in his eyes cracked open. “I’m not lying. Not to you.”

We were too close now. His hand brushed mine, just barely... but I felt it like fire. My breath caught. I didn’t move. And then he did the smart thing. The safe thing. He stepped back.

“I should drive you home,” he said, voice husky.

“Right,” I replied, pretending that almost-moment hadn’t shattered something inside me. “Back to real life.”

“For now.” But I knew, as sure as I knew anything, Nothing about this was staying fake for long And if it did… I wasn’t sure how I’d write the ending.