Chapter 27 Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leon woke up to the soft click of Felicity’s bathroom door. She was getting ready to step out, her voice gentle as she told him she had errands to run. He only nodded, pretending everything inside him wasn’t tangled.
She left with a small, uncertain smile, and the moment the door shut behind her, his phone buzzed.
Debit Alert.
The amount made his stomach drop — the kind of figure he had never willingly spent in his entire life.
He blinked at it once.
Twice.
Then checked the details again just to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
Merchant: Diamond Crest Jewelers.
Charity.
“Unbelievable,” he whispered, dragging a hand down his face. “She really did it.”
She’d gone ahead and bought the ring herself.
And not just any ring — it was the exact price range she knew he would hesitate to approve. The kind of ring that sparkled loud enough to blind people.
He tossed his phone onto his couch and stood there for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. He wanted to call her immediately, but he forced himself to wait. Felicity had barely left. He needed a minute to think… and breathe.
He paced his living room, replaying every conversation with Charity in his head. She’d always talked about wanting a perfect engagement, a picture-perfect moment, but he didn’t think she would actually take his money and handle the entire thing herself. Without asking.
His jaw tightened.
He felt invaded.
And trapped.
But life didn’t give him time to process it.
Not even ten minutes later, he heard a knock.
His stepmother, Mrs. Wyatt, swept inside with the event planner right behind her, both of them carrying folders, mood boards, and a sense of urgency like they were planning a royal wedding.
“Leon,” she sighed dramatically, “we’ve been waiting for you. Time is running out.”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “For what exactly?”
“The engagement,” the event planner chirped, flipping open a portfolio. “We need your approvals so we can finalize before the announcement.”
“Announcement?” he echoed, already knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.
Mrs. Wyatt squeezed his arm like she was comforting herself, not him. “Darling, the pregnancy. These things must be done properly. The Wyatts are not known for sloppy family matters. We need something grand, respectable — something that fits our name.”
Leon closed his eyes briefly, trying to hold onto his patience.
“So, what exactly have you planned?”
That was a mistake.
The event planner brightened and spread glossy boards across his coffee table. There were fireworks, imported florals, private orchestra options, a custom arch with their initials intertwined in gold. A drone photographer. A champagne tower taller than Leon.
Mrs. Wyatt tapped a finger approvingly. “People must understand this is a Wyatt celebration. It should speak wealth, class, and unity. And most importantly, it must be done before the pregnancy becomes… noticeable.”
Leon felt the heat crawl up his neck. Part anger. Part panic. Part guilt.
He knew he couldn’t keep avoiding the truth forever — not with Felicity.
Especially not when everything was moving faster than he could blink.
He stared at his phone again, the screen dark but heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
He had to tell her.
He had to.
The longer he waited, the worse it would be.
Charity found him later that afternoon, all smiles, holding a tiny velvet bag between her fingers like it was a trophy.
“I wanted you to see it first,” she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Isn’t it perfect?”
Leon stared at the ring she proudly slid onto her finger.
“It’s… something,” he muttered.
“It’s exactly what any girl would expect,” she corrected sharply, eyes narrowing just a fraction. “And the engagement — Leon, you need to do it properly. Not this hiding-from-everyone mess you’ve been doing. I can’t defend you anymore.”
He clenched his jaw.
She kept talking, her tone sweet but edged with pressure. She mentioned expectations, reputation, her siblings already asking when the official announcement was coming. She talked about the colors she wanted for the ceremony and how the ring “felt right on her hand.”
But all Leon heard was:
This is happening, whether you want it or not.
When she finally left, the silence in his apartment felt too loud.
He sank onto his couch, rubbing both hands over his face.
You need to tell Felicity, he thought.
Before she finds out another way.
Meanwhile, Felicity sat in a warm booth at a quiet restaurant she’d picked — the one she told Imran she loved after getting her high test score. He remembered. And the thought softened something in her.
Imran walked in looking the same as always — neat, calm, thoughtful. But when he saw her, his expression warmed in a way Leon’s never did without conflict hanging over it.
“You look… better than the last time I saw you,” he said, sliding into the seat across from her.
She laughed softly. “That’s not a high bar, Imran.”
The waitress took their orders, and once she left, the atmosphere settled into something familiar. Easy. Safe.
He asked about her classes. She joked about her lecturer. He told her stories about the hospital where he was training. They fell into that old rhythm — the one where she didn’t feel like she was walking on emotional glass
Then the conversation dipped into a quiet space.
Imran straightened a little, fingers brushing the rim of his cup.
“I want to try again,” he said gently. “I know things got messy before, but… I never stopped wanting you. Not even once. I just want another chance — if you’ll give it to me.”
Felicity stared at him, heart beating slower this time, steadier.
She thought of Leon’s tired eyes.
His half explanations.
His touch that always came before honesty.
His silence after every moment that felt real.
She thought of the ache she carried like a shadow.
And she thought of how Imran looked at her now — certain, warm, without complications.
“I’ll… think about it,” she said quietly. “Really think about it.”
Imran smiled — gentle, relieved, hopeful.