Alex took another bite of the Swiss, his smile softening, but his gaze didn’t budge. It stayed on me. And I could feel it. The way his eyes watched me made my breath still, just for a second. He was too quiet now. The kind of quiet that made my stomach twist in curiosity.

Then he gently placed the spoon down, folded his hands like he was bracing for something big. I straightened a little in my chair.

“Aria,” he began.

I tilted my head, meeting his eyes, and I tried to keep my voice light. “What is it?”

He looked down briefly and when he looked back up, something in his gaze made my pulse skip. “My dad… he has decided to appoint me as the next CEO of our company.”

For a beat, everything paused in my head. Then the words registered and something warm bloomed inside me. My lips parted in surprise, and my smile came without effort, stretching wide and proud. I was so damn happy for him.

“Alex, that’s amazing! I knew this day would come. You deserve this more than anyone.” I leaned forward without realizing it, letting the sincerity flow right out of me.

I meant it. Every word. I’d seen how hard he worked. How focused he was. He wasn’t just a name tied to some powerful family—he earned it.

The way he looked at me then… I noticed a shift in his gaze. His eyes were still soft, still affectionate but there was something else too. “Thanks, Aria. It means a lot coming from you. But there’s more.”

Of course there was. I quirked an eyebrow, teasing. “Oh? What’s the catch?”

He chuckled, leaning closer and I didn’t move back. His elbows settled on the table, and I caught the scent of his cologne again. “My dad wants to host a party to announce it formally. And I was hoping… you’d come to the party?” His voice softened further, watched my face like he was afraid of missing even the tiniest flicker of reaction.

I blinked in surprise. “Of course, I will,” I said, as I set my hand on the table, my fingers brushing against his, eyes locked with his as I continued, my voice light but honest.

“Alex, just because I’m running this café now doesn’t mean I’ve lost touch with the business world. My dad’s a CEO too, remember? I’ve grown up around that life. And besides… It’s you. Why wouldn’t I come? It’s such a big moment for you. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

For a second, he just… froze. His eyes dropped to my hand, and then back to my face. “I’m glad,” he muttered softly, leaning back in his chair with that familiar ease again.

After that, our conversation flowed like it used to. Effortless. We talked about old classmates, weird childhood memories, the café’s sudden rise in popularity.

Then he checked his watch. I heard the soft click as he adjusted the strap, that little habit he never grew out of. His expression shifted and I knew he was about to leave.

“I should go now,” he said apologetically, rising from his seat and brushing down his perfectly tailored suit. “Need to stop by the company before the day ends. And besides, I’ve probably wasted enough of your time already.”

I rolled my eyes and stood too, brushing my hands against my dress with a smirk. “Wasted my time? Don’t be silly, dummy.” I gave his arm a playful punch, just light enough to be teasing. “I had so much fun catching up with you. Don’t even think of calling this a waste.”

He looked down at me and smiled—that soft, deep smile that somehow made everything else in the room feel quieter. “I’m glad you enjoyed it too.” Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped around me with a kind of firmness I hadn’t expected.

I didn’t hesitate. I hugged him back, my cheek resting lightly against his chest, my eyes fluttering closed for just a second. It felt natural. Familiar. “Take care, Alex,” I murmured.

And then, after a moment that felt both endless and fleeting, he pulled back. Not completely—his hand lingered. He reached up, brushed a strand of hair from my face, and smiled down at me.

“Okay then. Bye, Aria.”

And just like always—like when we were kids, like when we were teenagers figuring things out—he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my head. A habit we never seemed to outgrow.

He patted my head gently after, his fingers brushing through my hair with that same almost reverent touch, and then he turned.

“Bye,” I muttered softly as I stood there, by the table, watching his silhouette disappear through the glass door into the afternoon light. “Same old Alex.”

The moon hung high in the midnight blue sky, casting a pale silver glow over our cozy house. The soft rustling of leaves echoed in the cool night breeze, mingling with the occasional chirp of crickets.

The dining room was alive with gentle chatter and the occasional clink of cutlery against fine porcelain. The table looked beautiful tonight—roasted chicken glazed with honey and herbs, creamy scalloped potatoes, sautéed green beans, and those soft dinner rolls I could never say no to.

A pitcher of lemonade stood proudly in the center, its frosted glass already beading with droplets under the lights.

Dad sat at one of the chair, calm and poised, his presence always grounding. Mom was beside him, her smile ever warm, hair neatly tied like always. Across from them, Marco and I sat side by side. Predictably, he was poking at his food with that smug look on his face—already up to something.

As we ate, Mom started telling Dad about her day, but her tone shifted when she mentioned, “You know, Stacy called me today. She said Alex returned from the States last night.”

Dad raised an eyebrow slightly, but before he could say anything, I jumped in. “Speaking of him—he came to see me today. We talked for a while… just catching up. It was nice.” I smiled, remembering how familiar and easy it had felt.

Dad nodded as he reached for his glass. “That’s good. Alex has always been a decent young man. Did he say anything about what he’s planning to do, now that he’s back?” His tone was warm but curious.

“He did, actually. His dad’s making him CEO. There’s going to be a business party for it soon.” I replied, and I noticed the proud smile forming on Dad’s face.

“Well, he’s worked hard for it. That’s well-deserved,” he said.

“Of course, Dad.”

The room stayed warm, cozy, until Mom, with that familiar shift in tone, looked straight at me. “Aria, don’t you think it’s time you settled down?”

I blinked. Oh no. Here we go again.

Dad looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean… Aria is doing so well in her career. She’s got everything in place. Maybe it’s time she thought about her personal life too,” Mom replied, her voice as gentle as it was dangerous.

Mid-bite, I put on my best dramatic gasp and pointed my fork at her. “Dad, do you hear this? Your wife is planning my exile. She wants me out of the house!”

Dad chuckled under his breath while Mom gave me that exasperated look only mothers can give. “Aria, I’m serious. You’re at the right age. Why wait?”

I let out a sigh and set my fork down, the joke fading from my face. “Mom… I just don’t think I’m ready. Marriage isn’t something I want to rush into. Not right now.”

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked softly, but her eyes didn’t lit up.

Before I could even open my mouth to respond, Dad gently placed a hand on Mom’s arm, “Sofia, let her be,” his voice came steady and calm, glancing between the two of us. “She’ll get married when she’s ready, not when we decide it for her. She’s doing just fine as she is.”

Ugh, I could’ve hugged him right then and there—but of course, peace is never allowed for more than five seconds in this household.

From beside me, my sweetheart brother decided this was the perfect moment to open that oversized mouth of his. With a smug little grin crawling across his face, Marco leaned back in his chair like some sort of villain in a teen drama.

“Mom’s got a point though,” he announced loud enough to make sure I’d hear it in my nightmares. “Sissy should really hurry up. She’s already ugly enough—if she waits much longer, she’ll just get older and uglier. Then who’d want to marry her?”

He burst out laughing—full, loud, obnoxious guffaws that echoed through the dining room like nails on a chalkboard. And just like that, the warmth in the room turned into something sharp and hot inside me.

Dad’s face darkened in a split second. His usual gentle demeanor disappeared behind an icy glare, like a storm cloud rolling in. But he didn’t even get the chance to speak—because by that time, I was already up.

My chair screeched back with a sharp sound that made everyone flinch. My face was burning—whether from rage or embarrassment, I didn’t even know anymore.

Without even thinking, I smacked Marco hard on the back of his big, dumb head.

“Ugly?!” I snapped, my voice tight with fury. “This coming from someone who looks like a rejected science experiment? Seriously, Marco—if ugliness were an Olympic sport, you’d be getting gold medals every year!”

Marco yelped and rubbed the back of his head, but I wasn’t even close to done. The anger was already fizzing in my chest like an over-shaken soda, and before anyone could stop me, I smacked him again—harder this time.

My hands were shaking. I hated that they were shaking.

“Aria, stop it!” Mom’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding, slicing through the chaos like a blade. That familiar, authoritative tone that always made the whole room freeze.

I turned toward her, my eyes stinging, my breathing uneven. “Why do you always take his side?!” I cried, my voice cracking. “Did you not hear what he just said to me? Why is that okay?!”

“I’m not taking his side,” she said, voice calm but unwavering. “But violence isn’t the answer. You can’t hit him like that.”

My fists balled at my sides. “I wouldn’t have to hit him if he wasn’t such an idiot!” My voice was loud, but my heart was louder, thudding painfully in my chest, full of frustration and that awful, helpless feeling I hated more than anything.

Just then—slam!

Dad’s palm hit the table with a thunderous thud that made the dishes rattle and the room fall completely silent. His eyes locked onto Marco like twin laser beams. “Enough.” His voice was low, commanding. Absolutely terrifying. “Apologize to your sister. Now.”

Marco’s smirk vanished like magic. His eyes darted to Dad’s face, and all that cocky energy drained out of him in an instant. Guilt replaced it, clear as day. “I’m sorry, sissy,” he muttered, this time genuinely. His voice had softened. “I was just joking. I didn’t mean it.”

I stared at him for a moment, arms still crossed, breathing slowly returning to normal. His expression was sincere, and for once, his eyes weren’t teasing. They were... apologetic.

I sniffed, then rolled my eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine,” I muttered, sliding back into my chair. “But next time, Marco, think before you open that smelly mouth of yours.”

The tension started to loosen, the thick air slowly melting away as the sounds of forks and glasses returned.

Then Marco leaned a little closer to me, his voice a quiet whisper, “I am really sorry, sissy. Don’t stay mad at me?”

I side-eyed him dramatically, letting the silence linger a little longer for effect… then smirked just a tiny bit. “I’ll think about it,” I said, nudging his arm with mine.

And just like that, the storm passed.

The dining room settled again, filled with the soft clinks of cutlery and the familiar hum of our family in motion. The glow from the chandelier above made everything feel a little more peaceful, a little more like home again.