30

30
Arlene
Breathe, Arlene, breathe.
I repeated the words silently, trying to calm myself as I stared at Liam. Funny how I hadn't forgotten his name after Matilda mentioned him during our car ride earlier.
The crowd blurred into a sea of curious faces as I stood frozen, stunned by Liam's sudden declaration. My father's sharp voice sliced through the tension in the room.
"Explain this, Arlene. Why have I never seen you two together? How did this happen?" His tone was more perplexed than angry, as though he were trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. "You’ve said nothing about a baby or a boyfriend since you returned."
The room felt suffocating, every pair of eyes fixed on me, waiting for answers. Liam, however, remained infuriatingly calm. One hand casually rested in his pocket, the other holding mine as though we were merely discussing the weather. How could he appear so composed? I had no choice but to improvise or risk losing control of the situation. Yet, I couldn’t understand why he had come to my rescue, especially when I was sure I had been ready to fabricate something myself.
"We wanted to keep it private," I said, my voice steady despite the panic boiling beneath my skin. "With our families involved, it was... complicated. We didn’t plan for things to come out like this, and I’m sorry you had to find out this way."
I glanced at Mirela, whose expression darkened with every word I uttered. Her lips pressed into a thin, bitter line as though she were fighting the urge to pounce. If she had a mustache, I imagined she’d be twirling it right now.
"When?" My father’s voice now carried a note of disappointment.
"This is insane!" Lucas’s voice rang out from the crowd, his eyes blazing with hatred as he glared at Liam. "There’s no way Arlene and Liam could be together!"
"You’ve no say, Lucas, on whom I want in my life," I snapped, shooting him a glare. "So, what’s the fuss?"
Mr. Walker, Lucas’s father, stepped forward, attempting to quiet his son.
"He’s my fucking brother! There’s no way you went out with him!" Lucas spat, his voice rising. He opened his mouth to say more, but Liam scoffed, cutting him off.
"That’s enough, Lucas," Liam said gently. How could a voice be so soft yet carry such authority? "The fact that you even attempted to date my woman is an offense I’d never forgive. So shut up now, or I’ll shut you up myself."
His words stunned me. My woman. Something about the way he said it stirred emotions I didn’t fully understand.
"When?" my father pressed again, his patience clearly wearing thin.
I knew he was hurt. It wasn’t just the shocking revelation—it was the humiliation of learning about it here, surrounded by strangers, opportunistic elites, and flashing cameras. And there was another reason for his dismay: Liam. My father had been orchestrating plans for someone else entirely, and Liam Walker didn’t fit into any of them. The Walker family wasn’t welcome anymore.
"I’m sorry, Dad," I said, stepping closer and inadvertently slipping my hand out of Liam’s. "I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how..."
My father shook his head, unconvinced, but before he could respond, Mirela’s acidic voice sliced through the air.
"Is Liam really the father?" she asked, her words dripping with venom as she stared pointedly at my stomach. "And where did you two even meet?"
My stomach twisted in knots. Mirela’s smug expression betrayed her glee at my discomfort. The murmurs from the crowd grew louder, and even my father’s brow furrowed, his mind clearly grasping for reasons to discredit Liam’s claim.
Before I could speak, Liam stepped forward, his voice effortlessly smooth.
"We met in Hawaii two months ago," he said, his tone so convincing it made me falter.
Hawaii? My mind raced. Was he making this up, or had he actually seen me there? I couldn’t recall running into him, but the confidence with which he told the story made me question everything. Did he know more about me than he let on? My chest tightened, but I forced a smile, determined to play along.
"Right, darling?" Liam turned to me, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Oh, absolutely," I replied, my voice dripping with sweetness. "Hawaii was... unforgettable."
And in a way, it was. No matter how hard I tried, the memories of Cole, Sarah, Marcus, and Loretta always found a way to resurface.
Liam grinned, clearly enjoying the show, and I resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. Mirela’s expression soured even more, and my father’s jaw tightened. Liam’s story hadn’t done much to appease anyone.
"Two months, and you’re already pregnant for h—" Mirela began, but Liam, to my horror, dropped to one knee, cutting her off mid-sentence.
The crowd gasped collectively, and my heart plummeted. What was he doing?
"What are you..." I hissed through clenched teeth, my forced smile barely holding as I bent toward him.
"Just distracting," he whispered, his grin widening. "Your family’s relentless questions will get us both screwed. Trust me."
Trust him? The man was kneeling in front of a room full of gossipy elites with cameras flashing wildly. Yet, as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t think of a better way out. Reluctantly, I nodded.
Liam’s voice rang out loudly, full of emotion. "I’ve always wanted to do this, babe, in public."
My breath hitched. Was he really about to propose? But then he leaned down—and tied my shoelace.
The crowd’s anticipation shattered, replaced by murmurs of confusion. Heat flooded my cheeks as I stared down at him, dumbfounded.
"Your shoelace was loose," he said, smirking as he straightened up, still kneeling. "You’re always too clumsy to notice."
Humiliation and relief warred within me. Part of me wanted to throttle him for turning such a serious moment into a joke, but another part couldn’t ignore the flicker of warmth in my chest. The crowd’s disappointment was palpable, and I knew I had to salvage the situation.
Laughing—though it sounded forced even to me—I said, "Here I was thinking you were going to propose."
"Oh, don’t tempt me," he replied, his grin as infuriating as ever.
I avoided looking at my father, knowing he’d be fuming over this spectacle. As for Mirela? She could go straight to hell.
Before I could respond, a man I didn’t recognize stepped forward. His face was pale, his eyes glassy yet intent, and though he hid it well, I could tell he’d been drinking. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box.
"You can’t propose to a lady you love without a ring, Liam," he slurred slightly. "Here. Take it."