Kay was in a rush. She wanted this marriage done—wanted to free herself from her parents' constant pressure as soon as humanly possible.
Miss Dora, meanwhile, was pacing her mind in circles, stress and worry making her breathless.
David, in those days, was colder than ever. He stayed late at the office, came home silently, and shut himself in his room with little Harry.
Harry—the sweet boy who adored his father and clung to his grandmother and Lara—was about to turn three.
But the thought of Harry's birthday only made David's heart heavier. Two years had passed since that night… the night that still haunted him.
It was Sunday morning, ten o'clock, in the grand Stevenson mansion. The family had just finished breakfast when the doorbell rang.
Lara, wiping her hands on her apron, went to answer it. When she opened the door, her eyes widened.
The Micawbers were standing there—Mr. Micawber holding a bouquet, Mrs. Micawber balancing a basket of decorated sweets, and Kay with her leather bag slung over her shoulder, her chin slightly lifted in arrogance.
Lara: "Oh… what a pleasant surprise…"
Kay: (with a sharp tone) "Miss Lara… what if we talk after coming inside?"
Mrs. Micawber's eyes widened; she quickly pinched Kay's arm in warning. Lara, caught off guard, felt the sting of disrespect but forced a smile.
Lara: "I'm sorry… please, come in."
Mrs. Micawber: "No, no, dear—it's fine. She's just joking. Don't mind her."
Lara: "Of course… come with me."
They followed Lara into the drawing room. Lara quietly went to inform Miss Dora, who immediately left the dining table to greet them.
David watched them pass with a roll of his eyes. He bent down toward Harry and whispered:
David: "Do you want to go outside with Daddy?"
Harry's little face lit up. Harry: "Yes! Play!"
David smiled faintly and stood, lifting Harry into his arms. Anything to avoid Kay and her family.
But just as he reached the door, a voice rang out behind him.
Kay: "Hey… David!"
He stopped, shoulders stiff, and turned slowly.
David: "Hey."
Kay: "So… why didn't you come to meet us?"
David: "Nobody informed me you were here."
Kay: (arching a brow) "Oh, really?"
David: "Yeah. By the way—everything alright? A sudden visit?"
Kay stepped closer, eyes bright, a teasing smile curling her lips.
Kay: "Ah… actually, I was missing my fiancé." Her voice softened, flirty, deliberate. "That's why I came. Mom and Dad wanted to talk to Aunt Dora, so… here we are."
David's expression didn't change. David: "Oh. Alright."
Kay: "Where are you going?"
David: "Me and Harry are going to play in the garden."
Kay: "Oh, nice. Shall I come with you?"
David hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. David: "You… want to come?"
Kay: "Yes. Is there a problem?"
David: "No… no problem."
Kay: "Okay. Let's go."
David turned his face away to hide his frustration. I wanted to get rid of her… but oh, destiny has other plans.
He opened the door, but as soon as he stepped outside, raindrops splashed against his skin. Within seconds, it turned into a sudden downpour.
He froze on the porch, an unexpected wave of relief warming his chest. For a brief moment, he wanted to smile—but instead, his expression remained stone-cold.
Kay: "Oh no, it's raining!"
David: "Hmm."
Kay: "My bad…"
David (in his mind): My pleasure.
Without another word, he turned, carrying Harry upstairs. Kay was left standing there, feeling the sting of his silence. She clenched her jaw, smoothed her hair, and forced herself to return to the drawing room.
Inside, tension sat thick in the air. Mr. Micawber fidgeted with the bouquet, unsure how to begin. A heavy silence stretched until Miss Dora broke it with a polite smile.
Miss Dora: "I was actually thinking… about the wedding."
Mr. Micawber: "Oh! I wanted to talk about it too… but I wasn't sure how to start."
Miss Dora: (laughing gently) "There's no need to be formal. We're family now."
Mr. Micawber: "Do you… have any plans?"
Miss Dora: "I… actually don't. But we can decide together."
Mrs. Micawber: "That sounds good."
Miss Dora: "I think there should be a three-month gap between engagement and wedding. The first month is almost over, so after two more months it would be perfect. That's just my thought—if you have a better suggestion, please share."
Kay's eyes narrowed. What the hell? Why three months? These old people always drag things out.
Mr. Micawber: "No, no—we don't have a problem. I think a gap is necessary. There's so much to arrange…"
Kay's nails dug into her palm under the table. Even my own father siding with them? Unbelievable.
Mrs. Micawber: "Yes, you're right… but…"
Kay: "But…?" Her voice cut like a blade.
Mrs. Micawber: "Let's decide the date first."
Kay bit back a scoff. Bullshit.
Miss Dora: "Any date after two months."
Mr. Micawber: "What about the 17th of that month?"
Kay rolled her eyes when no one was looking. All of these oldies are fools.
Miss Dora: "Very nice! A good idea indeed. Lara, bring some sweets—we've decided the wedding date!"
Lara: "Yes, ma'am."
Lara returned with a tray of sweets.
Miss Dora: "Please, have some sweets."
Mr. Micawber nodded and stood. Mr. Micawber: "Give us permission now, we should leave."
Miss Dora: "Oh, come on—stay for lunch."
Mrs. Micawber: "No, no, it's alright. Another time."
They rose, exchanging polite goodbyes. Miss Dora and Lara escorted them out with smiles, though both could feel the strange undercurrent of tension.
Kay's smile was brittle as she stepped into the car with her parents, her mind still fuming.
Upstairs, David sat silently with Harry in his lap, staring out the rain‑streaked window, the weight of a future he didn't want pressing against his chest.
And so, despite the friction and secret thoughts, the wedding date was set.
But beneath those smiles, storms were brewing.