*** MIA'S POV ***
The evening light spilled through the tall, arched windows of the house, casting a warm hue of rose gold across the hardwood floors and the intricate crown moldings that lined the ceiling. The scent of wet earth drifted through the cracked windowpanes, a lingering reminder of the afternoon rain. It mixed with the inviting aroma of roasted garlic and thyme that wafted from the kitchen—comforting, familiar, yet heavy with anticipation.
I stood quietly at the top of the staircase, my bare feet sinking slightly into the plush carpet, and listened. The house was alive with the soft murmur of voices.
Max and Marco.
Their words were low, nearly swallowed by the echo of distant clinks from the kitchen—but I heard enough.
"I still love you," Max whispered.
"You were it for me," Marco replied.
A gentle smile tugged at my lips. My heart, tight with worry for days, loosened just a little. Despite everything we had been through—despite the secrets, the lies, the fear—my brother had found his way back to the one person who had never truly left his heart. Their love had endured, and in the silence of this moment, it began again.
I should have been purely happy. But the weight in my stomach pulled me down—a weight that was more than emotion. Heavier. Deeper.
The child growing inside me reminded me of truths yet to be spoken. My parents didn't know. They needed to. Tonight, after dinner.
Later that evening, I found Andreis leaning casually against the living room's doorframe. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes met mine the moment I stepped into view. He always knew—what I felt, what I carried.
"Tonight," I whispered. "After dinner, we tell them."
He nodded, silent but steady. His hand reached for mine, strong and reassuring. His touch grounded me.
The dining room was bathed in warm light from the chandelier above, its golden glow reflecting off the polished wood of the long table. A centerpiece of eucalyptus, white lilies, and amber candles gave off a delicate, earthy perfume that blended beautifully with the smell of rosemary-roasted chicken and fresh garden herbs. Everything looked perfect. Everything felt wrong.
I sat between Andreis and Marco. Across from me, Mom wore her favorite pearl-white silk blouse, her hair in a soft twist at her nape. Dad looked casual in his deep navy shirt, sleeves rolled up, forearms resting on the table. Max sat beside Marco, their pinkies brushing with each movement—a silent rhythm only lovers share.
And I?
I could barely breathe. The food blurred on my plate, colors melding into each other. I pushed at my mashed potatoes with a fork, my stomach churning—not with hunger, but with nerves and nausea.
"Mia," Mom said softly, her eyes narrowing. "You've barely touched your plate. Are you alright?"
Dad set down his fork. "You look pale. Are you sick?"
I tried to speak. My lips parted, but the words dissolved before they could form. Panic coiled in my chest.
Then, Marco cleared his throat.
He knew. Somehow, he always knew when I was drowning.
"I have something to say," he said, standing.
All eyes turned to him, including mine.
Marco reached for Max's hand and looked around the table. "I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn't know how. Mom, Dad… Max and I are back together."
I blinked.
Wait.
Mom and Dad knew? Since when?
My brow furrowed. "Am I the only one who didn't know about this?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Mom's eyes widened, then softened. "Oh, sweetheart, we didn't mean to keep you out. We just didn't want to overwhelm you. We know you've had a lot going on."
Dad chuckled warmly. "And for the record, I've always liked Max. She's tough and loyal."
Max looked down, cheeks coloring as Marco squeezed her hand. There was love in their silence, a kind of peace I didn't want to interrupt.
I smiled, but it was a pale version of the joy I felt earlier. Because the moment was theirs.
And I couldn't steal it.
I swallowed the burning words I had waited all day to say. Andreis's knee brushed mine under the table. His hand slipped beneath and gently found mine, squeezing in understanding.
He knew. And for now, that was enough.
Dad lifted his wine glass to toast—something about new beginnings—but before his voice could rise, a scream shattered the calm.
"LET ME IN!"
The dining room fell into silence. Forks froze mid-air. Glasses stopped mid-toast.
Footsteps thundered outside the main doors, heavy and unrelenting. Then—bang.
The front door burst open with a sharp crack that echoed through the house.
A woman stormed in.
She was striking—tall, fierce. Her long blonde hair flowed in perfect waves down her back. She wore a white trench coat that fluttered behind her like a cape, revealing tight black leather pants and a crimson top that hugged her like a second skin. Her high heels clicked sharply on the wood floor, her presence like lightning.
"Where is he?" she demanded.
We all stood.
Her icy blue eyes scanned the room until they found Andreis.
"There you are."
Dad stepped forward, surprise written all over his face. "Selene? You're here!"
Selene.
My breath caught.
The woman strode to Andreis without hesitation and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce embrace. "I missed you so much," she murmured, clinging to him.
My legs felt weak.
I stood frozen, my fingers clenched around the back of my chair, eyes locked on the stranger now entwined with my… Andreis.
Everyone was staring at me now—Mom, Dad, Marco, Max. Even Andreis, who hadn't hugged her back, but hadn't pushed her away either.
My heart thundered. My hand slipped out of his without a word.
And inside me, the weight grew heavier.