Page 77 of Baby For My Bossy Fake Fiancé

I suddenly wanted to smack the shit out of her frizzy hair. But it soon disappeared when Damien pulled me closer.

Without acknowledging her, he urged me inside. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue at her. And focused on the scenery.

The place was simply exquisite. The ambiance was calm and quiet. Well almost.

Except for the low music that steadily filled the air.

Tables clothed with silky covers littered the spaces with short table lights in the centre of plates and cutleries.

Before the tables were brown, single armchairs. And behind them was a long, brown sofa that spanned the length of three tables.

Paintings hung on the wall above. The dull yellowish glow from the wall lamps was the cherry on top.

Everything seemed amazing. And as we walked, I became increasingly aware of every single detail. Until I spotted them.

Sarah on one end of the table. An old man with grey hair whose back was to me. And a medium-sized woman who was now walking towards us.

Her dark hair bobbed behind her as she held the sides of her dark, flowing gown.

My palms were suddenly sweaty.

Just a normal date. Just a normal date.I chanted.

The woman finally reached us and I could see piercing grey irises.

Did they all ha—

“Ma.” I could feel the tension in Damien’s voice.

She looked like she was holding back tears. “Damien.”

Without another word, she moved to hug him. Damien stiffened until his hand awkwardly patted her upper back.

The tension was thick. And even more, as the remaining two in the table now watched their interaction.

Thankfully, we were the only ones in this vast space. So, the reunion was quite intimate.

After what seemed to be hours of awkwardly standing beside them. And hearing his mother’s light sobs, they finally broke apart.

She instantly turned to face me. “Oh, dear. It’s nice to finally meet you. Sarah has spoken a lot about you.”

Her old hands clasped mine. I could see the appreciation and genuineness in it. Before she spoke. “Thank you for being there for my son.”

I swallowed. I was suddenly tired of everyone thanking me for nothing.

Chapter Eighteen

Damien

“They say I’m showing gradual signs of recovery.” Mr. Reynold’s voice had a rough edge to it.

His words were great, however.

“That’s great news, sir.”

“I know, son. I know,” I could almost see his smile through the phone.

“You know you can drop the formalities,” he scoffed. “I’m nothing but an old man slowly nearing his grave.”

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