Oliver lay sprawled across the sofa, the soft hum of the room barely reaching his ears. His thoughts, however, were loud—louder than anything else in the room. Liam's absence, his coldness, echoed in his mind like a constant ringing.
Liam had started avoiding him, and instead of feeling a sense of relief, Oliver felt hollow. His chest ached in a way he couldn't explain. The memories of their time together seemed to haunt him, replaying in his mind like a broken record. How had it all gone so wrong so fast?
He pulled the pillow over his head, hoping for a moment's peace, but it wouldn't come. Instead, his thoughts kept drifting back to Liam—his lips, his touch, the way he had looked at him.
Maybe it was just a mistake... Oliver thought bitterly. Maybe it was just a kiss. Maybe he was confused. Or maybe Liam was just drunk and he mistook him for Lorette.
But that thought didn't bring the comfort he hoped for. It only made him feel more lost.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Oliver's heart skipped, but he didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The only person with a spare key to the house was his mom.
Mrs. Montero stepped inside, her presence filling the space with an air of unfamiliarity. She looked pale, more than usual, her eyes shadowed with something that Oliver couldn't place.
He sat up slowly, watching her as she walked in, the soft thud of her footsteps unsettling.
"You came home," Oliver said, his voice quieter than he intended.
His mom barely looked at him as she set a small cellophane bag and some documents in the lockbox, and then locked it afterwards. "Just came to drop something off," she muttered, her voice faint.
Oliver furrowed his brows, his eyes narrowing slightly. His mother rarely come home, especially during the day. She was always at Mrs. Gracie's house, looking after her, handling her medical needs. This... wasn't like her.
He glanced at the items she had placed on the desk. Hospital supplies. Cottons, some medication, a few other things he couldn't quite make out.
"Is this for Mrs. Gracie?" Oliver asked, trying to keep his tone light, though suspicion was beginning to creep into his voice.
Mrs. Montero stiffened for a moment, her gaze flicking down to the documents and the cellophane bag, before she quickly looked away. The brief tremble in her hands did not go unnoticed by Oliver. His heart tightened in his chest as he observed her—something about her seemed off.
"No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her tone uncharacteristically guarded. "It's for... someone else. Don't worry about it."
Oliver's suspicion only deepened. There was something in the way she responded—her eyes flickering nervously, the way she tried to act as if nothing was wrong. She was hiding something.
But before he could press her further, Mrs. Montero had already turned, her footsteps quick as she headed for the door. She didn't say anything more, just left, leaving the silence to settle around Oliver like a thick fog. Well, she had always kept secrets from him anyway.
He sat there for a long time after she left, staring at the hospital supplies on his desk, his mind racing.
He tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut, the one that told him something wasn't right. Something wasn't right with his mom, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized she wasn't just hiding something from him. She was hiding something big.
But for now, all he could do was stare at the box she'd kept all the documents in, feeling more lost than ever.
The dinner table was lit by soft golden light from the chandelier above, casting a warm glow over everything. The Adrien family home was always grand, but tonight, the atmosphere felt different—heavier. Mrs. Adrien, elegant as ever in her simple but expensive dress, sat at the head of the table, her eyes twinkling with excitement as she spoke animatedly about some new family project. Mr. Adrien, as always, remained quiet, his deep-set eyes giving little away as he watched everyone else.
Liam sat beside Lorette, who, as usual, was looking flawless. She wore a sleek black dress, her hair tied up neatly, and her smile—oh, that smile—was wide and perfect. She had this way of making everything seem like a scene out of a romance movie. Her radiant presence filled the room as she laughed at something Mrs. Adrien had said, her voice soft and sweet, but it didn't reach Liam's ears.
Liam was lost in thought. He had been like this for days now—distant, distracted. His mind kept drifting back to Oliver, to the way his chest felt tight whenever he thought about him, to the kiss that was never meant to happen, and the silence that followed. He couldn't stop thinking about it. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he stabbed at his food, pushing the mashed potatoes around his plate without actually eating.
Lorette noticed his silence and, without skipping a beat, she asked, "Liam, what's going on with you lately? You've been so... quiet. Not like you at all."
Liam didn't respond at first. He could feel the weight of her gaze on him, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. He couldn't bring himself to look at her—didn't want to. He could feel her soft, expectant stare, but it was like his body refused to move. His mind was elsewhere.
Mrs. Adrien, who had been sipping her wine, suddenly turned to Liam with a smile. "Is something bothering you, dear? You haven't been yourself lately."
Liam's parents were both used to him being quiet, but this was different. His mood had shifted, and they noticed it. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't even want to think about it. He just wanted things to go back to how they were—normal. But nothing would ever be normal again after what had happened with Oliver.
Just then, Lorette, sensing the shift in the mood, leaned in a little closer to him, her voice softer, almost teasing. "By the way, I haven't seen Oliver lately. Where is he? Has he been avoiding you?" she asked, her smile sweet but a little too curious.
Liam's eyes snapped up to meet hers. His stomach twisted. He wasn't ready to answer that question. Not now. He wasn't ready to talk about Oliver, not in front of Lorette, not in front of his parents. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the warmth of the conversation growing colder.
Mrs. Adrien, noticing the sudden tension in the room, turned to Lorette. "Oliver Montero, you mean? Poor boy. I heard about his father's death. What a tragic situation." She shook her head in pity, and Liam could see that it wasn't just pity in her eyes—it was more than that.
Lorette, on the other hand, kept her playful demeanor, not showing any hint of discomfort. "Oh, yes, that's the one," she said, a small giggle escaping her lips as she played with her wine glass. "I think he's a bit of a... loner, though. Doesn't fit in with the rest of us, does he?"
Mrs. Adrien didn't react to that comment. Instead, she sipped her wine again, letting out a little sigh. "It's a shame, really," she said. "His poor mother must be devastated. And yet, he seems so distant. I just feel sorry for him, you know? It's just that he doesn't knew his place."
Liam clenched his fist under the table, resisting the urge to stand up and leave. His chest tightened as Mrs. Adrien spoke about Oliver, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't. He just sat there, the silence around him thickening.
Lorette seemed to notice his discomfort, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she smiled sweetly at Liam and then, for the first time in what felt like forever, Mrs. Adrien brightened.
"Well, Lorette," she said, her tone suddenly more chipper, "you look absolutely radiant tonight. I've been thinking a lot about you and Liam, about the future. I've always had such high hopes for the two of you." She paused, letting the words hang in the air, then added, "After graduation, Liam will be taking over Stellar Corporations, of course. He's got the business acumen, and he'll do the family proud. And then, well..."
She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "It only makes sense for you two to be together, doesn't it? You'll get married, just like we've always planned. The families, the business—it'll be perfect."
Liam's stomach twisted as he heard his mother's words. His throat tightened, and he could barely look at her. His whole life had been planned for him, but now, with everything that had happened with Oliver, he couldn't care less about all of that. He didn't want this life. He didn't want to marry Lorette because it was what was expected of him.
But he couldn't say any of that. Instead, he just sat there, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, unable to meet anyone's eyes.
Mrs. Adrien noticed his silence and teased Lorette gently, "Can you imagine, darling? You and Liam, married—working side by side, building the company, running the world together. It's going to be wonderful."
Lorette giggled, but Liam's face remained as cold as ice. He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it back.
"I'll be in my room," he said, his voice flat.
Mrs. Adrien looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she didn't stop him. "Liam," she said softly, almost sternly, "we need to talk about this. You can't keep avoiding it."
But Liam didn't listen. He turned and left the dining room, heading up the stairs with quick steps. He needed to get away, to think, to breathe.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear his mother's voice from downstairs, but he didn't care to listen. He was already lost in his own thoughts, the weight of his feelings for Oliver hanging heavy in his chest.
Mr. Adrien didn't say a word the entire time. He finished his meal, excused himself, and disappeared upstairs, leaving Lorette and Mrs. Adrien alone at the table. The conversation slowly shifted back to the future they had planned for Liam and Lorette, but neither of them could ignore the tension in the air...