Chapter 74 Chapter 74: A Wedding Mentioned Like a Verdict

Chapter 74 Chapter 74: A Wedding Mentioned Like a Verdict
The next thing I knew, we were stepping back into the private elevator leading to the senior Varya recovery suite upstairs. The quiet metallic doors slid shut behind us with a soft hiss, trapping the three of us inside a space that suddenly felt far too small. Nicholus stood near the front scrolling through something on his phone while muttering lazily to someone through an earpiece, completely unaware — or maybe simply uncaring — about the suffocating tension hanging behind him. Meanwhile, I stayed rigid near the corner clutching the ruined coffee cup in both hands while Auren stood beside me in complete silence. I could still hear every cruel accusation he had thrown at me downstairs repeating inside my head. Honey-trapping Nicholus. Interested in money. Girls like you. The humiliation still burned so sharply in my chest I could barely breathe around it.

Nicholus sighed dramatically into the phone. “No, cancel Monaco,” he muttered lazily. “Grandfather nearly died this morning. Even I’m not enough of an asshole to disappear to a yacht party right now.” A pause. Then he smirked faintly. “Well… maybe slightly enough of an asshole, but apparently my family’s judging me today.” His eyes flicked briefly toward us through the mirrored elevator wall before returning forward again. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll call later.” He disconnected casually before shoving the phone back into his pocket. “Hospitals really ruin everyone’s mood,” he complained under his breath.

I kept my eyes lowered the entire time.

But I could still feel Auren beside me.

Still feel the weight of his silence pressing against my skin.

The elevator hummed quietly as floor numbers lit one after another above the doors. Somewhere between the fifth and sixth floor, the coffee cup finally cracked completely beneath the pressure of my grip, bending inward slightly. A few drops spilled over my fingers again. Before I could react, Auren reached toward me automatically like instinct moved faster than thought. His fingers brushed mine briefly while steadying the cup before it slipped completely from my hands.

I jerked away instantly.

“Don’t,” I said quietly.

The single word came out sharper than I intended.

Auren’s hand stilled midair for one brief second before he slowly lowered it again. His jaw tightened almost invisibly beneath the cold hospital lighting, but he said nothing. Not another accusation. Not another explanation. Somehow that silence angered me even more now because it felt too late. Across from us, Nicholus looked between both of us slowly, clearly noticing something was very wrong now. “Okay,” he muttered carefully, pointing between us. “Either I missed a very important conversation downstairs, or both of you suddenly hate each other.” His brows lifted slightly. “Which honestly feels dramatic even for rich people.”

Neither of us answered him.

The silence stretched painfully.

Nicholus sighed heavily. “Fantastic,” he muttered under his breath. “Now the elevator feels haunted.”

The doors finally opened onto the private recovery floor with a soft chime. Warm golden lighting spilled across the dark carpeted hallway outside while several Varya security guards straightened immediately at our arrival. I stepped out first without waiting for either of them, desperate to escape the suffocating tension inside the elevator. My heartbeat still hadn’t fully calmed from downstairs, and now every second near Auren only made the humiliation feel worse again. Behind me, Nicholus followed while loosening his tie dramatically. “If Grandfather dies,” he announced dryly to nobody in particular, “it will actually be from this family’s emotional dysfunction.”

One of the guards opened the private suite door for us immediately.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted at once.

The hospital suite looked nothing like a normal recovery room. Large windows overlooked the gray city skyline while soft lighting glowed against expensive furniture arranged carefully around the room. Medical monitors beeped quietly near the hospital bed where Senior Varya rested propped against white pillows looking pale but very much alive. Elara sat beside him speaking softly with  the Mr Richmond but the exact second the door opened and she looked up—

Her entire face changed.

“Auren.”

For a second, the warmth that crossed Elara’s face softened the entire room. Relief flickered openly through her expression as she rose immediately from the chair beside her grandfather’s bed, smoothing one hand unconsciously over the sleeve of her dark coat as she crossed the room toward him. Even Senior Varya glanced up from the hospital bed with faint amusement in his tired eyes, like he had noticed the sudden shift in his granddaughter instantly. Beside the bed, Richmond stepped back quietly, watching the interaction unfold with the calm interest of someone who already knew exactly how these two looked at each other when they thought nobody noticed.

But before Elara could reach him fully, something changed.

Almost like she suddenly remembered other people were in the room.

The softness disappeared behind careful control again as her shoulders straightened slightly while her usual cold elegance slipped back into place piece by piece. “You made it,” she said calmly now, far more composed than she looked seconds earlier. “Traffic must’ve been terrible.” The sentence sounded controlled, polite, distant enough that nobody unfamiliar with her would notice the difference. But after seeing the way her entire face lit up at the sight of him, the restraint became painfully obvious.

Auren looked at her only briefly.

Then away again.

“Mm.”

That was all he said.

Not even a proper greeting.

Before Elara could answer again, he stepped past her entirely and walked straight toward Senior Varya’s hospital bed without another glance in her direction. The movement was smooth and calm, but the sudden distance in it shifted the atmosphere instantly. Elara froze almost imperceptibly where she stood beside him, her expression remaining perfectly controlled despite the subtle sting of being ignored so publicly. Only the slight tightening of her jaw betrayed anything at all.

Meanwhile, Nicholus noticed immediately.

Of course he did and his brows lifted slightly while he glanced between them with open curiosity before quietly muttering under his breath, “Oh, this is definitely worse than before.”

Auren stopped beside the hospital bed and gave a respectful nod toward Senior Varya. “Sir.” His voice remained calm and unreadable, though noticeably gentler than it had been downstairs with me. “How are you feeling?”

Senior Varya let out a rough scoff immediately. “Like I fought a war with a marble bathroom floor and lost.” His voice sounded weaker than usual but still sharp enough to fill the room easily. “Doctors are acting like I’m fragile now. Annoying people.” Richmond laughed softly  while Auren’s mouth curved faintly for the first time since entering the suite.

“They said you had a concussion,” Auren replied evenly. “You should probably listen to them.”

“That sounds exactly like something an old person says before refusing medical advice two hours later,” Nicholus interrupted casually while dropping into one of the leather chairs nearby.

Senior Varya pointed weakly toward him immediately. “And that sounds exactly like the disappointment branch of this family tree speaking.”

Nicholus gasped dramatically. “Grandfather, I rushed to the hospital out of love and concern.” A pause. “Mostly concern about inheritance, but still.” Even Richmond chuckled quietly at that while one of the nurses failed to hide a smile beside the medical monitors.

But Elara stayed silent.

I noticed it immediately.

She had moved back beside the hospital bed again, standing near her grandfather with perfect posture and unreadable calm, but her eyes kept drifting toward Auren when she thought nobody was paying attention. Meanwhile, Auren barely looked at her at all now. He continued asking Senior Varya questions about the fall, about the doctors, about the medication schedule — controlled, attentive, polite — while Elara remained standing only a few feet away feeling strangely shut out from the conversation entirely.

And somehow the tension between them felt even heavier than the one downstairs in the elevator.

Senior Varya eventually noticed too.

His sharp old gaze moved slowly between Elara and Auren before narrowing slightly with obvious suspicion. “What happened now?” he asked abruptly, voice rough with irritation. “You two look like divorced politicians standing in the same room for press photos.” while Nicholus looked delighted by the chaos unfolding around him. Elara’s expression hardened instantly. “Nothing happened,” she answered too quickly. At the exact same moment, Auren said flatly, “We’re fine.”

Senior Varya stared at both of them in silence.

Then he snorted.

“Lying must be contagious in rich families.”

Senior Varya continued staring at both of them with narrowed eyes, clearly unconvinced by their synchronized lies. The soft beeping of the heart monitor filled the silence for a moment while tension stretched heavily across the expensive hospital suite. Elara remained standing beside his bed with her posture perfectly straight, one hand lightly resting against the blanket near her grandfather’s arm. Across from her, Auren stood calm and unreadable near the foot of the bed, his expression giving away absolutely nothing now. But even I could feel the distance between them from across the room. Cold. Sharp. Wrong somehow.

Then Senior Varya sighed heavily through his nose.

“You two are engaged,” he muttered irritably like he couldn’t believe he even needed to remind them. “Not political enemies forced into the same meeting room.” His tired eyes shifted between them again before landing on Richmond near the window. “See this?” he complained roughly. “This is what happens when rich children grow up with too much pride and not enough suffering.” Richmond chuckled softly beneath his breath while Nicholus looked openly entertained from the leather chair. “To be fair,” Nicholus offered lazily, “emotional repression is basically a family tradition at this point.”

Senior Varya ignored him completely.

Instead, his expression slowly softened as he looked back toward Elara.

For the first time since we entered the room, some of the irritation faded from his face completely, replaced by something older. More fragile. “I’m getting old,” he said quietly after a moment. The words instantly changed the atmosphere in the room. Even Nicholus stopped joking. “Doctors keep talking around me like I’m glass now.” He gave a rough scoff. “And maybe they’re right.” Elara’s expression tightened immediately beside him. “Grandfather—” 

“No,” he interrupted gently this time. “Listen to me.”

The room fell silent.

Senior Varya slowly turned his attention toward Richmond again, voice quieter now beneath the steady sound of medical machines. “I don’t know how much longer I have left,” he admitted honestly. “Maybe years. Maybe less. Men my age don’t get guarantees anymore.” His gaze drifted back toward Elara then, and something emotional flickered across his tired face. “But before I die…” He paused briefly. “I would like to see my granddaughter in her wedding dress.”

The words landed heavily in the room and instantly, Elara’s entire expression changed not dramatically, not enough for strangers to notice. But I saw it…Hope…Real hope.

It lit softly behind her carefully controlled composure so quickly it almost hurt to witness. Her eyes moved immediately toward Auren beside the bed, searching his face instinctively like she had waited forever to hear those words spoken aloud. For one tiny moment, she looked younger somehow. Less untouchable. Like beneath all the cold elegance and power and control, she was still just a woman desperately wanting the man she loved to finally choose her completely.

But Auren—Auren looked like the complete opposite because his face remained calm,  almost distant beneath the warm hospital lighting. No excitement touched his expression. No softness. No reaction at all besides the slight tightening of his jaw before he looked away toward the city skyline outside the windows. And standing there watching him, I suddenly realized something painful.

Elara had been waiting for this moment… waiting for the family to speak openly about the wedding…waiting for Auren to want it too.

But while hope quietly bloomed inside her, Auren looked trapped by the conversation instead of happy. Like every mention of marriage only placed another invisible weight across his shoulders. And somehow the difference between them felt devastating even from where I stood.