"I thought I met his mother, but how can you meet the dead?"
—Ava Carter
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Ava's Point of View
The café smelled of roasted coffee and freshly baked pie, but I had no appetite for either. My mother was in surgery, my sisters waiting anxiously, and I couldn't waste time here. Yet here I was, seated across from the woman who had stopped me at the hospital.
She sipped her coffee slowly, her eyes flicking toward me from the corner like she was weighing my worth.
"What are you to Dylan?" she asked, setting her cup down.
I blinked at her. What am I? What kind of question was that? "Who are you to question our personal life and relationship?" The words slipped out sharper than I intended.
Her brows shot up. Clearly, she hadn't expected me to bite back. For fifteen minutes, she'd said nothing of substance, just stared at me like she was peeling back my skin. My patience snapped. I pushed my chair back abruptly and stood.
"You must know Dylan. If you're so curious, ask him yourself."
Un-bothered, she rose with slow elegance, slipping her bag onto her shoulder. Her tone dripped with smugness as she said, "I'm Dylan's mother. Mrs. Reed." She placed a card in my hand and walked out, leaving me frozen in place.
What did I just do? Had I jeopardized everything? I barely knew Dylan, nothing about his family, his past.
By the time I returned, I was in a daze. Ana screamed my name, pulling away from Dylan's embrace to throw herself into my arms. My heart skipped. Dylan was here, and Avie was perched on his hip like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ana clung to me, tears soaking my shoulder. "What took you so long?" she cried.
I hugged her tighter, the weight of fear clear in her trembling body. When she finally let go, she hurried to Avie, who had been staring at us with wide-eyed curiosity.
"Are you okay?" Dylan's voice drew me back. He closed the distance in long strides, his eyes scanning me as though searching for wounds. He stopped right in front of me, his tone cold.
"Where were you?"
I flinched at his sharpness. Something flickered in his eyes, pain, maybe anger.
"I met your mother," I said quietly.
His expression twisted in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Just like I said. She recognized me from the gala. She stopped me at the hospital. She said she was your mother, Mrs. Reed."
His jaw tightened, and he raked a hand through his hair. His eyes darkened with something I couldn't name. He stared at me as though willing me to take the words back.
"My mother is dead." His voice was low, almost broken.
The room spun. My mouth went dry. Dead? But then, who had I met?
"But she gave me this." My hand trembled as I passed him the card.
His face hardened. He crushed the card in his fist, fury flashing in his eyes. Before I could ask, the doctor appeared.
"Miss Carter?" he said warmly. "Your mom's surgery was a success. She'll be moved to recovery soon. Still unconscious, but she should wake in an hour or two. You may see her immediately."
Ana screamed with joy, Avie clapped her hands not completely aware what that meant and I felt my knees weaken. Dylan's hand caught my shoulder before I could collapse. Silent tears slipped down my cheeks, relief flooding through me.
"I'll leave you to your family," Dylan said softly. "You should be with them."
I nodded, unable to speak.
"But meet me at my office tomorrow. There are things you need to know if this contract is going to work, without mistakes, without anyone catching on." He turned to leave but stopped, his voice firm.
"Miss Carter. We'll also need to talk about wedding arrangements. It's less than a week away."
Ana gasped.
I stood frozen, watching him walk away. Yes, it was time to play my part. But tomorrow could take care of itself. Today belonged to my family, my mother, my sisters. Nothing else mattered.
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"In four days, she'll carry my name. I wonder if she's ready for the weight."
—Dylan Reed
Dylan's Point of View
She was already in my office when I returned from my meeting, sitting quietly, twisting strands of her hair, lost in thought. When she noticed me, she straightened, her expression unreadable, as though she wore a mask.
"Miss Ava," I said curtly.
She only nodded.
"Shall we talk about business?" My words made her eyes sharpen, but still, she held her tongue.
For hours, I briefed her on the people she'd need to know and the roles she must play. She listened, silent and stiff, nothing like the fiery woman I'd come to expect.
"Finally," I said, "The wedding arrangements."
Her mask slipped for just a heartbeat, tension flashing across her face, before she hid it again.
"What about it?" she asked coolly, staring out the window. "I don't suppose I have much to offer."
She was right. "All you need to do is be where I tell you, and on time." I studied her closely. "You'll be very busy these next few days. The wedding is four days from now."
Her eyes snapped to mine, lips parting, but no words came.
In four days, she would no longer just be Ava Carter. She would be Mrs. Reed. And I prayed she was ready for the burden that came with the name.