The Nerves of Her
June forced the most convincing smile she could muster, though every fiber of her being itched to scowl. Her fingers curled instinctively at her sides, but she kept her posture poised, tilting her head slightly toward her fiancé, the man who, despite his usual calm demeanor, had just shot up from his seat the moment she arrived. His urgency to stand between them did not go unnoticed, nor did the subtle way he positioned himself as a barrier between her and the woman before them.
A second longer, and June might have lost her composure entirely.
"June, meet Ms. Bella, a patient of mine," Dave said smoothly, his voice calm but firm. "And Bella, this is my fiancée, June."
With those words, his hand curled possessively around June's waist, pulling her closer in a way that made it unmistakably clear where his loyalties lay. A silent declaration, this is mine.
June didn't miss the flicker of something in Bella's eyes. Discomfort? Regret? It was gone before she could place it, replaced by a perfectly polite, almost demure expression.
June's own eyes swept over Bella with cool calculation. She was the complete opposite of herself, soft-spoken, delicate, and exuding a kind of quiet grace that was almost infuriating. She wasn't particularly tall, but she carried herself with the confidence of someone who had been admired all her life.
And June hated it.
She couldn't understand what had drawn Dave to someone like Bella in the past. She didn't fit the pattern of women he had been interested in before June, yet here she stood, a ghost from his past, resurfacing at the most inconvenient moment.
Her fingers tightened slightly over Dave's hand before she turned to him with a pointed look.
"Shall we?" she asked, her tone sweet yet firm.
They had plans, after all. That was the reason she had come to pick him up in the first place.
Dave wasted no time. He grabbed his essentials and left with her, not sparing Bella another glance.
Bella remained still, watching them exit together. She wasn't sure which feeling hit harder, the sting of loss or the sharp blade of reality cutting through her wishful thinking.
She had come back hoping, in some way, that things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, she could have another chance.
But then there was June. The woman who now stood in the place Bella had once occupied. A woman who, by all appearances, Dave cherished beyond measure.
Bella's chest tightened, and she almost turned away when a voice broke through her daze.
"They look cute together, don't you think?"
James.
His tone was laced with mockery, his smirk as sharp as ever.
"Guess it's all thanks to you," he continued, leaning lazily against the doorway. "If you hadn't left, he never would've met the love of his life—a perfect, beautiful soul."
Bella forced a small smile, though her nails dug into the flesh of her palm. She wouldn't give James the satisfaction of a reaction. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked out.
The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet chime, enclosing her in the sterile metal box.
Alone with her thoughts, the memories came rushing back.
College days. Laughter in the library. Late-night walks, hand in hand. Dave's warmth, his unwavering support.
And James, friendly and teasing, always the third presence in their relationship, but never an intruder.
She had been happy then.
And then she had thrown it all away.
Not because she wanted to.
But because she had to.
She had clawed her way into that elite university on a scholarship, surrounded by students who never let her forget that she didn't belong. The girls in her dorm had whispered behind her back, mocked her secondhand clothes, ridiculed her background. She had endured it all in silence, burying the pain deep inside.
And then came the opportunity, the one chance to rise above it all, to build a future not just for herself but for her family.
How could she have chosen love over survival?
Even now, years later, she knew she had made the only choice she could. But that didn't make it hurt any less.
She had tried to move on. She had built a successful career, made a name for herself, secured a life far better than the one she had left behind.
And yet…
Here she was, standing in the same place she had once walked away from, watching him hold another woman.
The pain was suffocating.
And the worst part?
She had no one to blame but herself.
….
"So you're the girl who's got him acting out of the ordinary," the woman said, her sharp gaze locking onto Dora as she sat on the hot seat, feeling every bit of the scrutiny.
Dora shifted slightly, offering a polite smile, but the weight of so many eyes on her made her stomach coil with nerves. This wasn't how she had envisioned meeting Edward's family. She had expected something intimate, maybe just his parents and a sibling or two. Instead, she found herself in a grand dining room, surrounded by a circle of women, his mother's friends, colleagues, and aunts, each one staring at her like she was an exotic specimen on display.
The tall, elegant woman sitting at the head of the table, with her striking eyes and smooth features, was undoubtedly Edward's mother, Grace. They shared the same gaze, intense, observant, and undeniably intelligent.
Grace smiled knowingly, exchanging a glance with one of the women before returning her attention to Dora. Since her arrival, she had been plied with food, four, maybe five different dishes, each one accompanied by a flood of questions about her background, her career, and, of course, how she had captured Edward's heart.
Dora had never been in a setting quite like this. It was a far cry from the gatherings her mother attended, where the conversations revolved around investments, real estate, and the latest luxury fashion trends. The women here were friendlier, warmer, genuinely interested in her, rather than in the figures in her bank account.
Still, it was overwhelming.
One of the older women, with striking silver streaks in her dark hair, leaned forward with curiosity. "So, when did you first realize he was your fiancé?" she asked, bringing a piece of flatbread to her lips.
Dora hesitated for a beat before responding. "A month and a half ago."
A surprised squeal erupted from the woman sitting at the far end of the table. By appearance, she seemed the youngest among them, yet by age, Dora suspected she was second only to the silver-haired elder.
"And what did you do when you found out?" another woman chimed in, leaning in eagerly.
"Were you surprised?"
"Did you get mad or happy?"
"I know I would've been thrilled," one woman said with a dreamy sigh.
Dora barely had time to react before Grace raised a hand, her voice gentle but firm. "That's enough, ladies. Don't scare my future daughter-in-law away."
A hush settled over the group, and Dora felt a small wave of relief wash over her.
Grace reached across the table, placing a warm, reassuring hand over Dora's. Her touch was soft, yet her presence exuded quiet authority. "I've never had a daughter before," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "And I've always wondered what it would be like. Dear, if it's not too much to ask… may I be your mother?"
Dora blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Grace's words. Her throat tightened as a surge of unexpected warmth spread through her chest.
She had never truly known what it was like to have a mother who was gentle, who spoke to her with care rather than criticism, who saw her as something more than just an heir or an extension of the family's legacy.
Without hesitation, she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Grace in a tight embrace. The older woman smelled of lavender, soothing, comforting.
"You can call me anything you want, Mom," Dora whispered.
Grace pulled back slightly, beaming at her.
At that moment, for the first time in a long time, Dora felt something settle inside her, something soft, something warm.
Something like home.
….
"Tomorrow is your birthday. How do you plan on celebrating?"
June frowned at his question, her expression shifting into something unreadable.
"I'm not celebrating it," she said, her voice flat. "Eat your food."
She stabbed at her plate with her fork, her appetite dwindling. Even though the bitterness had faded over time, the day still carried a weight she refused to acknowledge. It was the day everything fell apart. The day she lost her world. For nineteen years, she had avoided it, no parties, no cakes, no gifts, nothing. Just another day she had to endure.
"Not even a small get-together?" he pressed, his tone lighter, teasing, as if he could coax her into changing her mind.
Her grip on the fork tightened. He was starting to annoy her.
Instead of answering, she leaned back and crossed her arms. "How about you?" she asked, shifting the focus. "Why didn't you tell me about her?"
His brows furrowed slightly. "Who?"
"Don't play dumb," she said, pushing the table slightly toward him. "Bella."
His lips pressed into a thin line, but he remained quiet, waiting for her to continue.
"Of all the doctors she could seek help from, why did it have to be you?" Her voice was firm now, the playful tone gone. She leaned forward, holding his gaze. "What's her purpose?"
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Are you jealous?"
Oh, you smart-ass. Just wait. I'm firing back at you soon. Just wait.
June rolled her eyes, but she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction.
"Nope," she lied smoothly, arching a brow. "I'm just curious to know what's wrong with her."
He leaned back in his chair, studying her for a moment before responding.
"I can't tell you," he said simply. "It's my principle to keep every conversation between my patients and me confidential."
Of course. She wasn't surprised. He was a man of integrity, and she respected that. But that didn't mean she had to like it.
She sighed, pushing away from the table. "Fine."
Letting the topic drop, she turned toward the large glass window beside them. Outside, children played with fireworks, their laughter ringing through the air as they ran in circles, their small hands gripping sparklers that crackled with golden light. The night sky flickered with bursts of color, and for a brief moment, June found herself mesmerized by the simple joy of it.
Without thinking, she stepped outside, her curiosity piqued.
She crouched down, grabbing a packet of sparklers from a small vendor. As soon as she lit one, the bright sparks danced in the air, illuminating her face with a soft glow. The children around her giggled and cheered, welcoming her into their circle without hesitation.
He watched from a distance, arms crossed, unable to tear his gaze away. It amazed him how she could shift so effortlessly, one moment guarded and unreadable, the next carefree and full of life. She was all things at once. Cute, innocent, sweet, wild, crazy, and friendly.
His smirk deepened as she spun with the children, her laughter blending with theirs.
Then, without warning, she scooped up a small child and lifted them high into the air, twirling them around. The child squealed with delight, their tiny hands clutching her shoulders as if they never wanted to be put down.
His chest tightened at the sight.
She would be an incredible mother.
And for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder, what would their future look like? Would their own children inherit her stubbornness? Her fire? Would they dance under the stars like this, laughing without a care in the world?
His lips curved into a soft smile.
Yes.
She would be an incredible mother.