Lara's POV
Everything happened so quickly that I could hardly believe it was real. Just a few hours ago, I had been curled up on my bed, crying over the mess my life had become. Now, I was sitting here with an engagement ring shining on my finger, and I couldn't stop smiling no matter how hard I tried. It felt like I was living someone else's life, like I had stepped into a dream I never dared to imagine would come true.
Across the table, Marco sat back in his chair, still as composed as ever. His expression was calm, his movements measured, but there was something softer in his eyes now. The tension that usually surrounded him seemed to have lifted. For the first time, he looked peaceful, as if the weight he carried had finally found a place to rest.
I wanted to ask him so many things. Why me? Why now? What about Serene? But the words refused to come. I was afraid that if I asked, the spell would break, and he would tell me that it was all a misunderstanding or, worse, a joke. So I kept quiet and let myself savor the moment, afraid that if I breathed too hard, it might slip away.
Then a thought crossed my mind, something I hadn't been able to shake since that night. I wondered why I felt so bound to him, why every time he looked at me, my heart responded like it already belonged to him. I had heard people say that giving yourself to the person you love for the first time was supposed to be beautiful, but no one warned me how consuming it would feel.
It was as if something invisible had been woven between us that night, a pull I could not explain. I could feel it even now, deep inside my chest, running through my veins, as if a part of me recognized him in a way that went beyond reason. It frightened me, how much power he had over me, how his presence alone could silence every doubt I had ever known.
I looked down at the ring again, its delicate shimmer catching the light, and I felt a strange mix of joy and fear. Joy, because it was him. Fear, because I already knew that loving Marco Blackwell meant stepping into something I might never come back from.
And still, as he reached across the table and took my hand, I found myself holding on.
"Let us go home. I don't want your mother to worry about you, and I have to ask her permission to marry you," Marco said as he stood up. His tone was calm, but the words carried a kind of certainty that made my heart skip. For a moment, I could only stare at him, unable to believe what I had just heard. He wanted to talk to my mother. He wanted to make it official. The thought alone sent a rush of warmth through me, melting away the doubts that had been clinging to my chest all evening.
He didn't let go of my hand as we left the restaurant. His grip was firm but gentle, and somehow, that simple touch was enough to steady me. Outside, the night air was cool and quiet. The soft hum of the city lights surrounded us as he opened the car door for me and waited until I was settled in the passenger seat. When he closed the door, I caught a glimpse of his reflection on the window, serious and thoughtful, as if he was already rehearsing what he would say to my mother.
The drive home was silent, but it was the kind of silence that felt peaceful. I sat there, watching the streetlights blur past, still dazed by everything that had happened. I should have felt nervous or uncertain, but instead, I felt strangely calm. My heart was full, and even though Marco hadn't said much, his hand occasionally brushing mine on the console was enough to tell me that his mind was set.
When we arrived, my mother opened the door with a puzzled look. She had seen Marco earlier when he came to pick me up, but I hadn't even had the chance to introduce him then. I remembered the way her eyes had widened earlier, the disbelief written all over her face as she watched me leave with him. Now, standing in front of her again, I saw that same look—only this time, it was mixed with curiosity and something else I couldn't quite read.
"Mom," I said softly, trying to steady my voice. "This is Marco… my boss."
Her eyes shifted from me to him, studying the man standing beside me. It was clear she recognized him instantly, not just as the man she had seen earlier but as the one I had talked about countless times without meaning to. She blinked, still quiet, as if she was replaying every story I had told about him in her head.
Her eyebrows shot up, and I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. Of course, she knew exactly who he was. She had seen him earlier when he came to pick me up, but she had never imagined he would be standing here again for me. My mother had listened to me talk endlessly about him, teasing me whenever I turned down another blind date. She knew how completely I had fallen for Marco, even when I tried to hide it behind excuses and half-truths.
But deep down, she had always known I was chasing something impossible. I had told her once, in one of my weaker moments, that Marco was engaged to a beautiful woman named Serene. My mother had listened quietly, pity in her eyes, knowing how small and undeserving I felt compared to someone like that. She had reminded me gently that some dreams were meant to stay as dreams.
And yet, here he was, standing in our doorway, his hand holding mine, looking at me as if I was the only woman in the world. I saw the shock in my mother's eyes slowly fade into something softer—something that looked very much like hope.
Marco greeted her politely, his voice deep and respectful, and I saw the surprise flicker in my mother's eyes when he told her why we had come. She blinked, glanced at me, then back at him, as if searching for any sign that this was a prank.
Meanwhile, I stood there, my heart pounding, watching the man who once kept his feelings locked away now standing in our living room, asking for my hand in marriage.
My mother had always believed that no man would ever be good enough for her daughter. Yet when Marco spoke, something in her expression softened. She looked at him quietly for a long moment before she finally smiled, a small, knowing smile that made my chest tighten.
In that moment, I knew she saw what I saw. That whatever this was between us, it was real.
I thought back to all the times she tried to set me up with someone else, all the dates I avoided, all the excuses I made. Corbin had been the only one I agreed to meet, mostly because Cammie had gone through so much trouble arranging it. I owed her that much. But even then, my heart had already chosen. I rejected him again and again, not because Corbin wasn't kind, but because no matter how hard I tried, no one could make me feel the way Marco did.
"I need to go home now. I'll see you tomorrow at the office, Lara," he said before leaning forward to give me a quick, gentle kiss on the lips.
I stood there for a moment, completely still, my heart still racing from the unexpected tenderness of it. When he turned to leave, I followed him outside and watched until his car disappeared down the street. Only when I could no longer see the faint glow of his taillights did I finally go back inside.
"Mom!" I screamed, running toward her like a child again. I threw my arms around her and laughed through the rush of emotions that threatened to spill out. "Mom, I'm engaged!"
For a heartbeat, she just stared at me, her eyes wide. Then tears began to form, glimmering in the soft light of our small living room. She cupped my face and whispered, "Lara, I am so happy for you." But her joy faltered just as quickly, replaced by confusion. "I don't understand. Why would he suddenly propose to you when you weren't even his girlfriend? And what about his fiancée?"
Her words cut through the air like cold water. My smile faded, the weight of her question sinking in all at once. The truth I had tried to bury came rushing back, and my throat tightened.
"Mom," I said quietly, my voice trembling, "I made a mistake." I sank into the couch and began to cry, telling her everything that had happened between Marco and me in the cabin—the night that changed everything.
My mother listened without interrupting, her expression shifting from disbelief to sadness. When I finished, she took a deep breath and said softly, "Oh, child, how could you be so selfish?"
I lowered my head, shame burning in my chest. "Mom, I'm sorry for letting you down. I know what I did was wrong, but I can't help how I feel. I know it sounds terrible, but I'm happy right now. Truly happy."
She reached for my hands and held them tightly, her eyes searching mine. "Lara, I could never hate you for following your heart," she said gently. "But I hope things work out between you and Marco, because love that begins with pain can be hard to keep. Remember, someone out there is hurting too."
I knew what she meant. My mother had lived through it herself. She had once fallen in love with a married man and carried the guilt for years. Her warning wasn't anger; it was experience speaking.
"Mom, they aren't married yet," I whispered, desperate to make her understand. "Marco is still single."
"Even so, you hurt another woman, Lara," she said quietly. "And that kind of wound leaves a scar on more than one heart."
She stood and walked to her room, leaving me in the stillness of the living room. The silence pressed against me, heavy and real. I sank back into the couch, the ring on my finger catching the light.
For the first time since Marco proposed, I realized that happiness and guilt could live in the same heart. And as much as I wanted to believe this was the beginning of my forever, a part of me knew it was only the beginning of something far more complicated.