Surprise Engagement

The evening had settled in, and the Serrano mansion glistened under the golden light of ornate chandeliers that spilled their glow into every corner of the massive dining hall. Agatha Serrano, the matriarch of the family, had spared no detail for tonight's event. Everything had to be perfect: the pristine tablecloths, the glint of silver cutlery, and the carefully curated floral arrangements. The anticipation hung thick in the air as she awaited her son, Edmund, to arrive.

Agatha herself was a woman of sharp features and sharper wit. Her gray hair was pulled into an immaculate chignon, her makeup applied with precision to soften the edges of her otherwise severe face. Her gown, a deep burgundy that matched her formidable demeanor, signaled authority and elegance. Agatha Serrano had been orchestrating events for decades, both in business and in family matters, and tonight was no exception. She was about to reveal the latest chapter in her son's life, whether he liked it or not.

Edmund, however, was oblivious to the machinations that had been set in motion. Tall, with an athletic build and a reserved demeanor, he had always trusted his mother's decisions, even when they seemed to carry ulterior motives. His dark hair was tousled in a way that suggested he had barely taken the time to prepare for whatever event she had planned tonight. He entered the dining hall, his blue eyes scanning the room.

"Mother," he greeted her with a slight nod, his voice respectful yet hesitant. He had learned to be cautious around Agatha, especially when she had something specific in mind.

"Edmund, darling, there you are." Agatha's lips curled into a tight smile, though there was little warmth in it. "Please, join us." She gestured toward the table where a woman sat, her back straight and her hands clasped delicately in her lap.

The woman turned, and Edmund's breath caught slightly in his throat. Sitting across from him was a stranger, though her beauty was undeniable. Helena Carrington was poised and refined, her auburn hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled with intelligence, though there was something guarded in her expression. Her gown was a soft lavender, flowing elegantly down to the floor, the light catching the subtle shimmer of the fabric.

"Edmund," Agatha began, her tone firm, "this is Helena Carrington. I've invited her to dinner so the two of you can get to know each other. After all, it's important that you familiarize yourselves, considering the future you'll be sharing."

Edmund's brow furrowed as he turned to his mother. "Future?" he repeated, his voice tinged with confusion.

Agatha's smile didn't falter. "Yes, darling. Helena is to be your fiancée."

The words hung in the air like a bomb that had just detonated. Edmund blinked, his mind struggling to catch up with what his mother had just said. He looked at Helena, who remained composed, though her cheeks had flushed ever so slightly.

"My fiancée?" Edmund's voice was incredulous. "Mother, you never mentioned anything about this. I—"

"I didn't think it necessary to involve you in the initial discussions," Agatha interrupted smoothly, her tone brooking no argument. "Helena comes from an esteemed family. This union will benefit us both, and frankly, it's time you settled down. You've spent enough years… wandering."

Helena, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "I understand this is a surprise, Edmund. I didn't expect this to happen so suddenly either. But our families... they've known each other for a long time. Perhaps this is an opportunity."

Edmund ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He had always known his mother to be controlling, but this was beyond anything he could have anticipated. His future was being decided for him, and the woman who would share it was sitting right in front of him, a complete stranger.

"I need to think about this," he muttered, standing abruptly from the table. "Excuse me."

Without waiting for a response, Edmund walked out of the dining hall, his mind racing. He didn't know where he was headed, but anywhere away from his mother and this situation felt like the right direction.

-----

Far from the opulence of the Serrano estate, the Rafara hut stood modestly at the edge of a sprawling field. It was a place Edmund often retreated to, seeking refuge from the demands of his family's world. Inside the hut, a warm, comforting glow emanated from the small lamps scattered across the room. The air smelled faintly of herbs and wood, a sharp contrast to the sterile cleanliness of his mother's mansion.

Marie, a young woman with soft features and expressive brown eyes, was seated at the small wooden table, her fingers wrapped around a mug of tea as she sorted through some papers. She had grown up in this humble home, and despite the trials life had thrown at her, there was always a calmness in her presence, a kind of quiet resilience. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders as she glanced up, sensing a disturbance.

The door to the hut swung open, and Edmund walked in, his face tense with the frustration of the evening. He paused when he saw Marie, who looked up from her work.

"Edmund," she greeted him, setting down her mug. "What's wrong?"

Edmund sighed heavily, running a hand over his face as he sat down beside her. "You're not going to believe this," he muttered, his eyes avoiding hers. "My mother… she's arranged an engagement."

Marie's expression softened, but there was an edge of sadness in her gaze. "Engagement? To whom?"

"Some woman named Helena Carrington. I met her for the first time tonight at dinner. My mother—" he paused, frustration bubbling up again. "She planned the whole thing without telling me. I barely even know this woman, and now… now I'm supposed to marry her."

Marie's heart sank as she listened, her hands fidgeting nervously on the table. She had grown close to Edmund over the past few months, though she had always kept a certain distance, knowing that their lives were from different worlds. Now, hearing this news, the painful reality of their separation hit her harder than ever.

"Why didn't you tell her no?" Marie asked softly, her voice tinged with hurt she couldn't hide.

Edmund looked at her, his expression conflicted. "It's not that simple, Marie. You know how my mother is. She's made this decision for the family, for our reputation. She doesn't care about how I feel."

Marie stood abruptly, unable to listen to any more. "So what? You're just going to go along with it?" She took a deep breath, her emotions boiling over. "You don't have to do what she says, Edmund. You can make your own choices!"

Edmund rose from his seat, reaching out to grab her arm gently. "Marie, wait—"

But she pulled away, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I don't want to hear it!" she cried, stepping toward the door. "Just… just leave me alone."

Before Edmund could stop her, Marie darted out of the hut, running toward the house of Mang Caloy. She needed to escape, to process what she had just learned, and Edmund's attempts to explain only made the hurt worse.

----

Back at the Serrano estate, Helena Carrington stood alone on the balcony outside the dining hall, the cool night breeze brushing against her skin. She stared out at the vast gardens, her mind spinning from the events of the evening. She had known that her engagement to Edmund would be a surprise, but she hadn't expected such a cold reception.

Helena was a striking woman, with delicate features and a soft, almost ethereal beauty. Her skin was pale and smooth, her auburn hair cascading down her back in perfect waves. Her green eyes, framed by long lashes, always seemed to hold a certain melancholy, as if she carried the weight of expectations far heavier than her own desires.

As she stood there, contemplating her uncertain future, she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw a young woman approaching—a girl she had never seen before. Her face was flushed, her dark hair messy from the wind, and her eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Excuse me," the girl said, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you… Helena?"

Helena nodded, surprised by the sudden appearance of this stranger. "Yes, I am. And you are?"

The girl hesitated for a moment before answering. "I'm Marie."

There was a brief silence as the two women regarded each other, both feeling the tension in the air. Helena's gaze softened as she noticed the hurt in Marie's eyes, the kind of hurt that didn't come from mere chance meetings. There was something deeper at play here, something Helena didn't yet understand.

Marie swallowed, struggling to find the words. "I heard about the engagement," she finally said, her voice thick with emotion. "I just… I needed to see you."

Helena frowned slightly, confused. "I'm sorry if this is difficult for you. I didn't ask for this either."

Marie shook her head, her frustration evident. "It's not that. It's just… Edmund… we… we were close."

Helena's expression flickered with understanding. So this was the girl Edmund had mentioned in passing. The one he had grown attached to. Helena had suspected there was more to the story, but she hadn't realized just how deep the connection between Edmund and Marie had run.

"I see," Helena said quietly. "You care for him, don't you?"

Marie nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I do. But now… now I don't know what to do."

Helena sighed softly, her own feelings conflicted. "I didn't expect this engagement to happen so suddenly. I don't want to hurt anyone, least of all you."

The two women stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on them both. Finally, Helena took a step closer to Marie, her voice gentle.

"If there's anything I can do to help… to make this easier for you… please, just tell me."

Marie looked up, surprised by the kindness in Helena's words. She hadn't expected this woman, a stranger who had been thrust into her life so suddenly, to offer her any sort of comfort. But in that moment, she realized that they were both victims of circumstance, both caught in a situation beyond their control.

"Thank you," Marie whispered, her voice barely audible.

Helena nodded, a faint smile on her lips. "We'll figure this out, Marie. Somehow."

As the two women stood there, bound by the strange twist of fate that had brought them together, the future seemed uncertain. But for the first time since the evening began, there was a glimmer of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, they could find a way to navigate the difficult road ahead.

-----

The warmth of Mang Caloy's modest home wrapped around Marie as she sat on the well-worn couch, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to process the tumultuous events of the day. The flickering light of an old lamp cast soft shadows on the walls, contrasting sharply with the storm brewing inside her. Tears welled up in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks as her frustration with Edmund and his mother boiled over.

"Why does it always have to be like this?" Marie whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, attempting to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. "Why can't he stand up to her?"

Mang Caloy, sitting across from her, sighed deeply. He was an elderly man with years of wisdom etched into the lines of his face, his eyes kind but tinged with sadness. He had watched Marie grow up, and seeing her in such distress stirred a protective instinct within him. He leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on hers.

"Marie," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "sometimes, you have to ask yourself if this relationship is truly what you want. Edmund may care for you, but if he cannot stand up to his mother now, will he ever be able to?"

Marie shook her head, her tears flowing more freely now. "But I love him, Mang Caloy. I really do. And I know he loves me too, but… it's like I'm always second to his family. To his mother."

Mang Caloy's expression softened, and he pulled his hand back, settling into his chair. "Love is important, yes. But it's not enough if you're constantly being pushed aside. You deserve more than that, Marie. You deserve someone who will fight for you, who will put you first."

Marie's heart ached at his words, knowing deep down that Mang Caloy was right. She wasn't sure if Edmund could ever break free from Agatha's control. And if he couldn't… where did that leave her?

Before she could respond, the creak of the front door broke the silence. Both Marie and Mang Caloy turned toward the entrance to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the porch light.

It was Arjan, known affectionately as "the weedman" in town. He was a tall, wiry man, always sporting a weathered smile and a laid-back demeanor that hid the sharp intellect underneath. His silver hair, once dark like the night sky, was tied back in a loose ponytail. He carried the air of someone who knew too much and cared too little for societal expectations. Mang Caloy raised a hand in greeting, a small grin playing on his lips.

"Arjan," Mang Caloy called out, his voice lightening in tone. "I wasn't expecting you tonight."

Arjan stepped inside, shrugging off his worn leather jacket and hanging it on a nearby hook. "Had some business to attend to in town," he replied casually, though his eyes flicked toward Marie, sensing the tension in the room. "Looks like I walked in on something serious."

Marie wiped at her eyes, embarrassed to have a witness to her tears. "It's nothing," she muttered, trying to regain her composure.

Arjan didn't press, but he raised an eyebrow, looking between Marie and Mang Caloy. "Well, whatever it is, it seems heavy."

Mang Caloy stood up, stretching his back. "Let's step outside for a bit, Arjan. Give the young lady some space." He shot a knowing glance at Marie before nodding toward the door. "We'll be right back, Marie."

The two older men stepped out onto the porch, leaving Marie alone with her thoughts once again. She leaned back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling, unsure of what to do next.

Moments later, a commotion came from outside, and Marie froze as she heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the door. The latch clicked open, and Edmund burst into the room, his face flushed with desperation.

"Marie!" he called, his eyes wide as he scanned the room. When he saw her, his shoulders sagged in relief. He strode toward her, his hands reaching out but stopping short of touching her. "Marie, please… don't leave me."

Marie turned away, her voice small and broken. "Edmund… I don't know if I can keep doing this."

He kneeled beside her, his hands clasped in front of him as if he were praying for forgiveness. "I know. I know it's hard, and I'm sorry. But I need you. Please… don't go."

Marie shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes again. "Edmund, I can't be second to your mother. I can't live in the shadow of your family's decisions. You have to choose."

Before Edmund could respond, another voice sliced through the air.

"Edmund!"

Marie's body tensed as Agatha Serrano strode into the room, her presence as commanding as ever. She wore an elegant black dress, though her expression was far from composed. Her eyes darted from Edmund to Marie, and then her lips curled into a thin, disapproving smile.

"So this is where you've run off to," she said, her voice cold and sharp as steel. "I thought I told you to stay away from here."

Edmund stood up, his jaw clenched as he faced his mother. "I came here because I need to talk to Marie."

Agatha's eyes narrowed. "You need to leave. Now."

Edmund hesitated, torn between the woman he loved and the mother who had controlled his life for as long as he could remember. But before he could make a decision, the front door opened again, and Mang Caloy stepped back inside, Arjan following close behind.

"Ah, Agatha Serrano," Mang Caloy said, his tone light but with a trace of sarcasm. "What brings you to my humble home?"

Agatha's gaze flicked to him, her disdain evident. "Mang Caloy," she greeted, her voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt. "I see you're still meddling in affairs that don't concern you."

Mang Caloy smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, I don't meddle, Agatha. I simply observe. You should try it sometime."

Arjan, standing beside Mang Caloy, gave a small chuckle. "Still as charming as ever, Agatha." His tone was relaxed, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested he enjoyed pushing her buttons.

Agatha's gaze shifted to Arjan, her expression darkening. "You," she hissed, her voice laced with venom. "The weedman. I should've known you'd be involved in this somehow."

Arjan raised his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged. Though I'm not sure what you're accusing me of this time."

Agatha took a step forward, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him with suspicion. "Don't play coy with me, Arjan. I know about you and Karl Marino. I know you were involved in my husband's murder."

A silence fell over the room at her accusation, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Arjan's usual easygoing demeanor shifted slightly, though he didn't lose his composure.

Mang Caloy raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Maybe yes, maybe no," he quipped, his voice light. "But I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you, Agatha. Not without proof."

Agatha's expression hardened, her gaze locked on Arjan. "You may have escaped justice before, but don't think for a second that I've forgotten. I'll find out the truth, one way or another."

Arjan simply smiled, though there was an edge to it. "You're welcome to try, Agatha. But be careful. The truth isn't always what you want it to be."

The room was thick with tension, the air almost crackling with the unspoken history between these people. Edmund, standing between his mother and the people he had grown to trust, looked torn, his eyes filled with conflict.

Finally, Agatha turned her gaze back to Edmund. "We're leaving. Now."

Edmund glanced at Marie, his heart aching. "Marie, I—"

"Go," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Just go."

With one last, pained look, Edmund followed his mother out of the house, leaving Marie standing alone in the middle of the room, her heart heavy with sorrow and doubt.

As the door closed behind them, Mang Caloy sighed, walking over to Marie and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You'll be okay, child," he said softly. "You're stronger than you think."

Arjan, leaning against the wall, watched the scene unfold with a thoughtful expression. He glanced toward Mang Caloy, a silent understanding passing between them.

Whatever the truth was, it seemed it was only a matter of time before it came to light. But for now, they would have to wait and see what fate had in store.