130 The Thornbridge House
Mara
Lucian handed my parents the bottle of wine with a polite smile.
My mother turned it in her hands and beamed. “Non–alcoholic. Thoughtful. I’m so happy for both of your She pulled Lucian into a hug, her joy radiating like sunlight.
She led us to the dining table, where a beautifully roasted turkey sat in the center surrounded by side dishes
“Don’t worry about the roast,” she said with a playful glance. “We ordered it in. No time for the full grill
treatment. We don’t have a kitchen staff like you, Mara.”
I smiled at her teasing. It felt light–for a moment.
We took our seats. My mother served the plates herself, making sure Lucian’s was stacked high. We ate in
silence, the sound of cutlery filling the room until my father finally broke it.
“Is it true you’ve moved out of the Nighthorn mansion?” he asked sharply, looking directly at Lucian.
Lucian didn’t flinch. “Not exactly. We’re not based there full–time.”
My father’s eyes narrowed, his tone sour. “Mara didn’t want to marry you, you know.”
I set my fork down slowly.
“Aiden,” my mother warned under her breath.
“No, Arya,” he said, waving her off. “This needs to be said. It’s a disgrace that my daughter is expected to
share her husband with another woman.”
My heart dropped. I felt Lucian stiffen beside me.
“My Mara is a good girl. Loyal. Proud. And you humiliated her. You kept a mistress under her nose and got her pregnant. And now what–this is supposed to be normal? Just another child on the way?”
Lucian’s hand trembled slightly as it rested near his plate, his jaw tight.
“Father,” I said, voice shaking, “that’s not true. Lucian never cheated on me. He ended things with Tina before
the wedding. That rumor–Martha’s rumor—was a lie.”
He cut me off. “I’m not finished with you yet, young lady.”
My stomach twisted.
“We heard about you too,” he added coldly. “Sneaking around the mansion with Darian. Forcing Lucian to
move out. You brought shame to your name.”
Lucian’s anger shifted instantly. I felt it. Tight and barely restrained.
His eyes met mine.
He didn’t need to speak.
“Father,” I said, my voice steady and cold now, “you need to stop.”
The table went silent.
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My mother stared at her plate, her smile gone. Lucian’s hand found mine under the table and squeezed it
once.
This wasn’t just dinner anymore.
It was a battle line.
Lucian wiped his mouth calmly and stood up.
My father leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “Oh, now you want to leave? What–forgotten what you said to my daughter on the porch, have you?”
I froze.
“Yeah, Mara,” my father continued bitterly, “thin walls in this house. We heard it all. The conditions. The warnings. He called us gold diggers. And now look at you–falling for him like none of that ever happened.”
Tears stung my eyes.
“This,” I said, my voice trembling, “this is exactly why we left the Nighthorn mansion. Because of moments like this. Because people keep bringing up the past instead of letting us live in the present. Why, Daddy? Why couldn’t you just let us enjoy this moment?”
My chest ached. All this time I’d been so focused on escaping Lucian’s family drama… I never realized how much of the same toxicity was hiding in my own home.
“Aiden,” my mother said sharply, “apologize to Alpha Lucian.”
Her voice trembled–not with fear, but fury. “Can’t you see our baby is upset? They’ve made peace with their past. They love each other. Why are you trying to turn yourself into the villain in their story? I invited them here to celebrate–and you drag up rumors and nonsense Dr. Green whispered in your ear. I told you, Lucian has no mistress. You owe them both better than this.”
Lucian wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.
“It’s okay, love,” he whispered. “We’ll be on our way now.”
“Please don’t leave,” my mother said, voice cracking with emotion.
Lucian held me tighter and turned to face my father. Calm, but every word landed like a stone.
“I’ll let your behavior slide tonight because you’re Mara’s father. But I won’t be so forgiving next time. You will not disrespect my wife. Not in front of me. Not ever.”
He paused. “Only my wife gets to raise her voice at me,” he added softly.
My father didn’t respond–his expression locked in a mixture of guilt and shock.
Lucian looked him straight in the eyes.
“And next time, keep your gossip to yourself, Dr. Thornridge.”
We turned to leave. I didn’t speak, Lucian’s anger radiated off him, and I didn’t want to poke it further.
But then I heard it.
“Please, Mara,” my mother said, voice thick with tears. “Tell him to stay. There’s still pudding. And we haven’t
even talked…”
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130 The Thornbridge House
Then, quietly–so quietly I almost missed it–my father spoke.
“Please… Alpha Lucian. Forgive my behavior. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
I stopped walking. So did Lucian.
I looked up at him, reached for his hand, and linked to him gently.
Please, Lucian. Do this for me.
He looked at me for a long moment, jaw tight. Then, finally, he nodded.
We returned to the dining room.
The rest of dinner was quiet at first. Awkward. But my father held his tongue. And slowly, something began to shift. After thirty minutes, the tension eased. The conversation thawed. Laughter even returned to the table.
Eventually, my father apologized again–sincerely this time–once he realized the rumors about Lucian weren’t true. The man he thought he knew… wasn’t the one sitting beside me.
We talked more than we expected to. About family. The baby. Life. By the time it hit ten, I gently nudged
Lucian.
“It’s time,” I whispered.
He nodded.
We promised to visit more often, gave my mother one last hug, and left quietly into the night.
As we walked to the car, I looked at Lucian and squeezed his hand.
He didn’t need to say anything.
He’d already said everything that mattered.
He loved me.
And tonight, he proved it in the way only he could–by standing his ground, and still choosing peace.
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