Happily Married with Three Kids
1692 Words
“Welcome to your temporary castle,” Elian said with a mischievous smirk, gesturing broadly to the penthouse.
Maeve chuckled nervously, trying to break the ice as he walked ahead, giving her a chance to take it all in.
“Coffee?” Elian already moved to brew them some before she could response. “A spoon of sugar and cream, right?”
Blinking stupidly at how he correctly offer her preferrence, Maeve cleared her throat.
“You know, I was planning to offer you a whole grand for the fake boyfriend thing. But seeing your stellar performance and that you’re, uh…” She trailed off, motioning vaguely to the penthouse and the ostentatious display of wealth. “...more heir to an empire rich, I’m guessing that’s pocket change to you. Should I up it to two grand? I can throw in a coupon for free coffee.”
Elian turned around with a grin that was equal parts amused and incredulous. “Do you honestly think I’m doing this for money?”
“Well, no,” she replied quickly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “But, I don’t know, maybe you have a really weird charity quota to fill? A dare to take?”
He laughed, the sound deep and rich, and Maeve couldn’t help but smile despite her embarrassment. “You’re right.”
“Wait, which one?”
“But let me make something very clear.” Elian stepped closer, his striking blue gaze locking onto hers with a seriousness that made her heart stutter. “There’s nothing fake about this. Not the diamond ring, not the engagement thing, none of it.”
Maeve blinked, her mouth opening slightly as she struggled to find the words. “You– what? But you– you can’t just– what do you mean it’s not fake?!” she sputtered. “You literally met me not even twenty minutes ago and kissed me to prove a point! That’s not exactly ‘true love’ material!”
Elian tilted his head, his expression softening into something almost teasing. “Are you done panicking?”
“No,” she snapped, flustered. “How are you so sure this isn’t just... some overly dramatic office drama snowballing into madness?”
His lips quirked into a sly smile. “Because I’ve seen the future.”
Maeve stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’ve seen the future?”
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded with mock seriousness, crossing his arms. “I saw us married. Three kids. You were very happy. I was very handsome, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Maeve deadpanned, still trying to wrap her head around what he was saying. “Three kids?”
“Three,” Elian confirmed, holding up three fingers. “Two boys and a girl. The oldest is annoyingly smart, the middle one loves breaking things, and the youngest, well, she’s clearly my favorite because she’s perfect.”
Maeve gawked at him, half-expecting him to burst into laughter and say he was kidding. Instead, he just leaned against the kitchen island, watching her with an amused glint in his eye as she processed his words.
“Okay, wow,” she said finally, throwing her hands up. “This escalated quickly. You went from casual fake boyfriend to psychic husband in, like, thirty seconds.”
“What can I say? I’m efficient.”
She gave him a look. “If you’re so good at predicting the future, what am I thinking right now?”
“Hmm.” He stroked his chin in mock contemplation. “You’re thinking, ‘How does he make everything sound so ridiculously charming, even when he’s talking absolute nonsense?’”
Maeve snorted. “Wrong. I was thinking, ‘How do I escape this penthouse without triggering the security alarms?’”
“You’d miss me too much,” he shot back smoothly, “But, if you want to play this game, fine. Let’s try again.”
“I’m wondering who’s the crazy one here.”
“Funny, why don’t we find out?” Elian gave her a wolfish grin. “Let’s get married this spring.”
Maeve’s jaw went slack. It took ten seconds for her to response. “I’m calling the police.”
“And throw your chance of a perfect payback for that jerk who cheated on you in the office’s storage closet? I think you can do more than that.”
She stood frozen, her jaw working as if to say something, but nothing came out. Her brain was short-circuiting between Elian’s ludicrous suggestion of marriage and his casual mention of the storage closet incident.
“Wait,” she finally said, narrowing her eyes at him. “How do you know about the cheating thing? I never told you that.”
Elian raised an eyebrow, his expression the picture of innocence. “Didn’t you?”
“No!” Maeve exclaimed, her hands flying to her hips. “And neither did Lily! The other ones who knows was the perp, Ryan, and his mistress, Vicky.
He shrugged, nonchalant as ever. “Maybe I just have a good sense for these things. You give off ‘cheated-on-by-a-jerk’ energy.”
Her eyes narrowed further. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m observing.”
“Bull.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “And another thing! How did you know which suitcase was mine earlier? You didn’t even ask.”
Elian’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Lucky guess?”
“Lucky guess?” Maeve repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. “Out of four suitcases in that shared room, you just happened to pick the one that belonged to me? What, did the zipper tell you my name?”
He chuckled, leaning casually against the kitchen island. “You’re overthinking this.”
“I am not overthinking this!” She was pacing now, her arms gesturing wildly as she spoke. “You’re either a psychic – or you’re stalking me, and honestly, I’m not sure which option is worse!”
Elian tilted his head, clearly entertained. “Stalking? That’s harsh. I’d call it being prepared.”
“For what? A personality quiz?” Maeve stopped pacing, glaring at him. “You know things about me you shouldn’t. Specific things. Like, freakishly specific. So spill. How are you doing this?”
“Maeve,” he straightened, his playful expression softening into something more serious. “I’m not stalking you, and I don’t have secret spies feeding me information. I just know things sometimes.”
She crossed her arms, skeptical. “Define ‘know.’”
“Sometimes I see glimpses,” he explained, his eyes steady on hers. “Moments from the future. Flashes of what’s coming. It doesn’t always make sense at first, but it’s enough to help me anticipate things.”
Maeve stared at him, her mind spinning. “So, what? Are you a psychic or something?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that.” He smirked. “But if you want to think of me as your very handsome crystal ball, I won’t stop you.”
“Ugh.” Maeve rolled her eyes, rubbing her temples. “This is insane. Completely insane.”
“Insane?” Elian stepped closer, his voice dropping into that maddeningly confident tone. “You’re standing in a penthouse with a man you picked from a fake boyfriend ad, who kissed you like the world was ending, and now you’re debating whether he can see the future. Admit it. You’re intrigued.”
Maeve glared at him, but her cheeks betrayed her with a slight flush. “Intrigued is not the word I’d use.”
“Then what word would you use?” He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto hers.
“Suspicious,” she shot back.
Elian chuckled, clearly enjoying her frustration. “Fair enough. But you’ll come around.”
“To what?”
“To the fact that I’m telling the truth. About everything.”
Maeve snorted. “Yeah, okay. Sure. You’re a psychic with a front-row seat to my future. Got it. But if you’re so all-knowing, why don’t you tell me what I’m thinking right now?”
Elian leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re wondering if I’m about to predict your next move.”
Her mouth fell open. “I– no! That’s not–”
“And now,” he continued smoothly, cutting her off, “You’re considering throwing one of those decorative pillows at me just to see if I’d duck.”
Maeve glanced at the nearest pillow, her fingers twitching. “Don’t tempt me.”
He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I’m not reading your mind. Sometimes. I’m just paying attention.”
“Too much attention,” Maeve muttered, though her frustration was beginning to melt into something closer to reluctant amusement.
“Call it what you want,” Elian said, his smile softening. “But if it helps, I didn’t need a vision to know that you deserved better than some jerk f*****g a wench in a storage closet.”
Maeve blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “You really believe that?”
“Absolutely.” His gaze was steady, unflinching. “And if you give me a chance, I’ll prove it to you.”
For once, Maeve didn’t have a snarky comeback. She stood there, staring at him, her heart doing an annoying little flip she tried to ignore.
Finally, she sighed, grabbing the pillow and hugging it to her chest. “Fine. But if you start predicting lottery numbers or stock prices, I’m calling the FBI.”
Elian grinned. “Deal.”
“Wait!”
He faltered. “What?”
“Did your family’s fortune came from this suspicious ability of yours?”
Elian rolled his eyes. “Instead of exhausting your mind with that burning question, why don’t you shut up and let me kiss you?”
“Do you think I’m that cheap?” Maeve challenged him. “I’ll let you kiss me after you beat Ryan at team activity tomorrow.”
“Consider it done.”
- Writer
