Chapter 6: Baby Pictures
916 Words
Megan’s POV
If I thought the school hallways were judgmental, the Carter mansion was a whole other level. It smelled like expensive lilies and "old money." I smoothed down my simple navy dress, feeling every bit like the scholarship kid Liam’s friends joked about.
"Relax," Liam whispered, leaning in as we stood in the foyer. "You’re gripping your purse like it’s a weapon."
"It is a weapon if your mother tries to marry us off before dessert," I shot back.
"Megan, darling!" Mrs. Carter glided down the stairs, looking effortless in a silk blouse. She didn't just greet me; she pulled me into a hug that smelled like Chanel No. 5.
"You look radiant. Liam, don't just stand there like a statue. Take her coat."
Liam grumbled something under his breath but reached for my jacket. As he did, his fingers brushed the back of my neck. I shivered, and Mrs. Carter didn’t miss it. She beamed.
"Dinner is ready. And I have so much to show you, Megan. Liam has been so... private lately. I feel like I’ve missed out on your lives."
Liam’s POV
I had a bad feeling about this. My mother had a specific "meddling" look in her eye.
We sat through the first two courses; sea bass and some kind of fancy foam; while my mother grilled us on our "relationship."
Megan was a pro. She lied about us "reconnecting over shared interests" so convincingly I almost believed her.
"And when did you realize it was more than just friendship?" my mother asked, resting her chin on her hand.
Megan looked at me, her eyes challenging. "Oh, it was probably when Liam defended my honor in the cafeteria. He’s very... protective."
I choked on my sparkling water.
"I just don't like people touching my things," I managed to say, earning a sharp kick from Megan under the table.
"Well," my mother said, standing up with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Since we’re celebrating this new chapter, I thought we’d take a trip down memory lane."
She pulled a heavy, leather-bound album from the sideboard. My heart dropped.
"Mom, no. Absolutely not."
"Oh, hush, Liam. Megan hasn't seen these in years!" She flipped the page.
There we were. Age four. Sitting in a plastic kiddy pool, wearing nothing but matching diapers and holding onto the same rubber duck.
Megan’s POV
I burst out laughing. The second-hand embarrassment was delicious. Liam looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
"Oh my god," I gasped, leaning closer to the photo. "Liam, your hair was so fluffy! You looked like a disgruntled baby chick."
"I was four, Megan. Four!" Liam groaned, hiding his face in his hands.
"And look at this one," Mrs. Carter cooed, flipping to a photo of us at age seven. Liam was "proposing" to me with a ring made out of a candy wrapper.
"You two were inseparable. I always knew you’d find your way back to each other."
The laughter died in my throat. The room went quiet, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock. That photo was taken just months before everything went wrong, before the scholarship incident, the accusations, and the three years of silence.
I looked at Liam. He was staring at the photo too, the embarrassment gone, replaced by a look of genuine hurt. For a second, the fake dating felt like a cruel joke.
We weren't just "dating" now; we were mourning the friendship we’d lost.
"I think..." Liam cleared his throat, his voice rough. "I think we should get back to school. Megan has a lot of studying to do."
"So soon?" Mrs. Carter looked disappointed, but she closed the album.
"Well, at least take this, Megan."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside was a delicate pearl necklace.
"It was my grandmother’s," she said, ignoring my protests. "Think of it as a 'welcome back' gift. I want you to wear it to the School Ball next week. As Liam’s official date."
Liam’s POV
I walked Megan to my car in silence. The cool night air felt like a slap after the heat of that dining room.
"You don't have to wear it," I said, nodding toward the velvet box in her lap. "My mom is... a lot."
"It’s beautiful, Liam," Megan said softly, her fingers tracing the velvet. "But this is getting complicated. The necklace, the photos, the way she looks at us... she really thinks this is real."
I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. "It’s a means to an end, Foster. Just remember that."
"I know," she whispered.
But as I pulled out of the driveway, I caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror. She was wearing the pearls. And as much as I wanted to deny it, she looked exactly like she belonged in the passenger seat of my life.
I glanced at my phone. A notification from the "St. V’s Tea Gallery" popped up:
Sighted: The Golden Boy and his Scholarship Sweetheart heading to a private family dinner. Is it getting serious, or is this just high-stakes damage control? Sophie Collins wants to know...
The game was getting dangerous. And we hadn't even reached the first dance.
- Writer
