Lian's POV
The living room was filled with voices.
Warm.
Excited.
Certain.
Dates, venues, guest lists—words floated through the air like they were discussing something real. Something solid.
Something happy.
Lian sat straight-backed on the sofa, hands folded neatly in his lap, smiling when appropriate, nodding when spoken to.
He played his part well.
After all, this was just a role.
Both Families Gather
This time, the meeting was held at the Vayne residence again, formal but welcoming. A long table had been set with tea, documents, and a large traditional calendar laid open in the center.
Grandma Vayne adjusted her glasses, tapping the calendar lightly.
"We should choose an auspicious date soon," she said warmly.
"Engagements shouldn't linger too long."
Mrs. Veris nodded quickly.
"Yes, yes. The elders in our family also believe that once a match is decided, it's best not to delay."
Lian smiled gently.
Arion said nothing.
Astrology, Traditions, and Certainty
Dates were proposed.
Rejected.
Reconsidered.
"This one clashes with the Vayne ancestral ritual."
"That one is during omega cycle season—too exhausting."
"Oh, this date is perfect," Grandma Vayne said suddenly, pointing.
"Late spring. Stable. Prosperous. A good season to begin a life together."
Everyone hummed in agreement.
Everyone except Arion.
He glanced sideways.
Lian was listening attentively, eyes lowered, expression calm. Too calm.
As if the date of his own wedding was just another appointment.
Lian Plays the Perfect Future Spouse
"And what do you think, Lian?" Grandma asked kindly.
Lian looked up immediately.
"I'll follow whatever the family decides," he said softly.
"As long as it's convenient for everyone."
Convenient.
The word hit Arion strangely.
No excitement.
No hesitation.
No nervousness.
Just acceptance.
Mrs. Veris beamed.
"He's always been like this—very understanding."
Grandma Vayne smiled fondly.
"A good omega."
Lian bowed his head slightly in thanks.
Arion clenched his jaw.
It shouldn't bother him.
That Lian was polite.
That he was cooperative.
That he didn't seek Arion's opinion.
And yet—
Every time Arion tried to meet his eyes, Lian looked elsewhere.
Every time Arion leaned closer, Lian subtly shifted away.
Not rude.
Not obvious.
Just… careful.
Deliberate.
It irritated him in a way he didn't understand.
Why are you avoiding me?
And why does it bother me so much?
Wedding Preparations Begin
Conversations moved quickly.
Venues were discussed.
Guest numbers estimated.
Colors suggested.
"We should keep it elegant," Eleanor Vayne said.
"Nothing too flashy."
Lin, sitting beside Farrah, whispered loudly,
"But flashy is fun."
Farrah nodded solemnly.
"Flashing responsibly."
Lian smiled at their chaos, genuinely this time.
Arion noticed.
That smile didn't reach him.
The Moment That Stings
Grandma Vayne turned to Arion.
"And you, Arion? Any preferences?"
All eyes turned to him.
Arion hesitated, then looked at Lian.
"I—"
Lian spoke first.
"Arion is very busy. I don't think he has strong opinions about these details."
The room laughed softly.
Arion didn't.
He stared at Lian.
That wasn't true.
He did have opinions.
He wanted to say the date felt too soon.
Or too far.
Or that it mattered more than he expected.
But Lian had already decided for him.
He leaned back, silent.
"Fine," he said finally. "Whatever you all think is best."
The words tasted bitter.
Break Time — Quiet Distance
During a short break, Lian excused himself to help Mrs. Veris in the kitchen.
Arion followed a few moments later.
"Lian."
He turned, polite as always.
"Yes?"
"You don't have to speak for me," Arion said quietly.
Lian blinked, surprised.
"I wasn't trying to," he replied calmly.
"I just thought it would be easier."
Easier.
Again that word.
"For whom?" Arion asked.
Lian hesitated.
"For everyone."
He stepped aside, making space—physically and emotionally.
Arion watched him walk past.
The distance felt intentional.
And it irritated him more than open conflict ever could.
****************************
Back in the living room, discussions resumed, but Arion barely heard them.
He kept thinking about:
The way Lian smiled at others but not him.
The way Lian avoided touch.
The way Lian agreed to everything without once asking Arion what he wanted.
This was what Arion had insisted on, wasn't it?
A marriage on paper.
Clear boundaries.
No emotional expectations.
So why did it feel like something essential was slipping through his fingers?
Why did Lian's distance feel like a loss?
Lian's Inner Truth
Lian listened quietly as the date was finalized.
Late spring.
Official.
Inevitable.
He nodded.
Smiled.
Thanked everyone.
Inside, he told himself:
This is good.
This is clean.
This is exactly what you agreed to.
If he didn't hope—
He wouldn't be disappointed.
If he didn't reach—
He wouldn't feel rejected.
So he stayed composed.
Perfect.
The Date Is Set
Grandma Vayne clapped her hands happily.
"Then it's decided! We'll announce it soon."
Applause followed.
Congratulations were exchanged.
Lian bowed politely, accepting them like formal gifts.
Arion watched him.
And for the first time, a sharp, unsettling thought crossed his mind:
What if he's already pulling away?
And what if… I don't want him to?
-----------------------------------------------
The meeting ended with smiles, tea refilled, and quiet satisfaction among the elders.
The date was chosen.
Final.
Late spring.
Grandma Vayne clasped her hands together, eyes shining.
"Then we'll announce it immediately. There's no reason to delay good news."
Lian's smile didn't falter.
"Whatever the family thinks is best," he said gently.
Arion watched him say it—
the way the words came easily now, without hesitation or emotion—and something in his chest tightened.
That Evening
By the time Lian returned home, his phone began vibrating nonstop.
One message.
Then another.
Then dozens.
He opened one.
VAYNE GROUP OFFICIAL STATEMENT:
We are pleased to announce the wedding date of CEO Arion Vayne and Mr. Lian Veris.
The ceremony will take place in late spring.
We thank everyone for their blessings and support.
The announcement spread instantly.
News portals.
Social media.
Business headlines.
Entertainment columns.
Photos from their engagement resurfaced.
Speculation bloomed.
Praise poured in.
"Power Couple of the Year."
"A Strategic Union Sealed."
"Perfect Match Confirmed."
Lian stared at the screen quietly.
So many people celebrating something that didn't exist.
He locked his phone and placed it face-down on the table.
"This is just how it is," he murmured to himself.
"Just a date. Just a role."
At the Vayne Mansion
Arion stood in his study, phone in hand, watching the same announcement light up every screen.
Congratulations flooded in from board members.
Partners.
Foreign investors.
He should have felt relief.
Instead, his first thought was:
Did Lian see this already?
His second thought followed quickly after—
Does he feel anything at all anymore?
The image of Lian earlier that day came back to him:
polite, agreeable, distant.
Arion's grip tightened around the phone.
"This isn't how it was supposed to feel," he muttered.
Two Separate Houses. One Shared Lie.
That night, under different roofs, they both lay awake.
The wedding date had been announced to the world.
The families were happy.
The public was excited.
The future looked settled.
And yet—
One of them felt resigned.
The other felt restless.
The date was written in ink.
But nothing about their hearts felt decided.
✨ Bonus Scene — "Where No One Is Watching"
Lian's POV
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Lian sat on the edge of his bed, his phone lying face-down beside him like something dangerous. He had already read the announcement dozens of times, but the words kept replaying in his head anyway.
Late spring.
Mr. Lian Veris.
Future spouse.
Public. Official. Inescapable.
He exhaled slowly, pressing his palms against his knees, grounding himself the way he always did.
"I agreed to this," he whispered.
So why did it hurt like this?
The Crack
He stood up, walked to the mirror, and stared at his reflection.
Calm expression.
Straight posture.
Perfect omega.
The same face that smiled politely in front of both families.
The same face that nodded and said whatever the family decides.
He reached up and touched his chest.
His heart felt tight.
Heavy.
As if something inside him had been slowly compressed until it had no space left to breathe.
"I shouldn't have hoped," he said quietly.
The words trembled.
Remembering the Small Things
The fitting room.
Arion's hand steadying his waist.
The way his voice softened when he said, "It suits you."
The dinner at the mansion.
The warmth of Arion's hand when Grandma placed it over his.
The way Arion had looked at him—
not like a contract,
but like someone trying not to feel.
Lian squeezed his eyes shut.
"That wasn't real," he whispered fiercely.
"It was never real."
The Breakdown
His breath hitched.
Once.
Twice.
Then suddenly, the composure slipped.
His shoulders shook as a sob escaped before he could stop it.
He covered his mouth with his hand, biting down hard to keep the sound quiet. He had learned long ago how to cry silently.
Tears fell anyway.
One after another, landing on his lap, his hands, his clothes.
"I did everything right," he murmured brokenly.
"I didn't ask for more. I didn't cross lines. I didn't expect love."
His chest hurt.
"So why does it feel like I lost something?"
Loneliness of Knowing the Truth
No one else knew.
Not his parents.
Not Lin.
Not the Vayne family.
They all believed in a love story that existed only on paper.
Lian was the only one standing at the edge of the truth.
The only one pretending while knowing exactly what this was.
He laughed softly through tears.
"I'm marrying someone who doesn't want me," he said bitterly.
"And I'm supposed to smile about it."
Eventually, the tears slowed.
Lian wiped his face carefully, standing up and smoothing his clothes like he always did.
He looked tired now.
But composed again.
"That's okay," he told himself gently.
"You'll be fine."
He inhaled deeply.
"Just don't hope."
Hope was the dangerous part.
Hope was what broke him.
Lian lay down on his bed, turning onto his side, facing the wall.
Tomorrow, he would smile again.
Tomorrow, he would be polite.
Tomorrow, he would play his role perfectly.
Because that was what the contract required.
And because falling apart was something he could only allow himself to do—
When no one was watching.