Chapter 6

 Chapter 6

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Noah turned to her with a soft smile. "I'll take you home," he said, nodding toward a sleek, fancy, black car that had apparently been waiting for them. It seemed he'd already informed his driver that dinner was over.

Nadine hesitated. "Oh, no, that's okay. I'll just contact my driver and I… think our house is in the opposite direction," she said, forcing a polite smile. In truth, she needed time alone. The last few days had been too much. She thought she was strong enough to face it all, but now everything felt overwhelming. The familiar weight of helplessness pressed against her chest. Years of therapy had helped her build a stronger foundation, but tonight, cracks were starting to show.

Noah raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in his expression. "It won't take much time to detour. And come on, why are you giving such a childish excuse?"

Despite herself, Nadine laughed, shaking her head. "I'm not making excuses. You know it's only been three days since I touched down, right?"

Noah's gaze softened, but he didn't budge. "Even more reason for me to make sure you get home safely."

She glanced at his coffee-stained shirt and imagined how uncomfortable he must be. Yet, he was still willing to spend more time with her. Guilt gnawed at her, and with a sigh, she gave in. "Alright. Thank you."

Noah didn't say anything more, but she caught the satisfied curve of his smile as he opened the car door for her. The warmth of the car quickly enveloped her, and she found herself staring out the window as they rode in silence.

Her thoughts drifted to the arrangement between their families—an arrangement that was supposed to be a door to her freedom. But was it? Or was it another trap disguised as an opportunity? Tonight had been… unexpected. She never imagined encountering Noah so soon after her arrival. What if he found out? she wondered, her chest tightening. What if one day he realizes who I really am? What I've been hiding? Would he accept me for who I am? Would his family?

Unbidden, a heavy sigh escaped her lips, breaking the stillness of the car.

"What's with the sigh?" Noah asked, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

She startled slightly, glancing at him. "Oh, it's nothing," she said quickly, forcing a laugh. "Just tired, I guess."

Noah didn't look convinced, but he let it go, keeping his attention on the road ahead.

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of her house. Nadine unbuckled her seatbelt, turning to face him. "Thank you for tonight," she said softly. "And again, I'm truly sorry about earlier. Please send me the bill for the dry cleaning."

Noah smirked, leaning slightly against the steering wheel. "I should probably thank the latte, honestly."

Nadine frowned, confused. "Pardon?"

Before he could elaborate, a voice called out from the front gate. Nadine turned to see her parents standing there, impeccably dressed, likely just returning from an event. Her father's commanding voice carried across the yard, instantly pulling her back to reality.

"Hey, Noah!" her father called, his tone warm and familiar.

Nadine froze. She had completely forgotten her parents might be home.

Noah stepped out of the car, giving her a small wink before walking toward the gate to greet them. Nadine followed reluctantly, her heart pounding. Her father extended a hand to Noah, and they exchanged pleasantries like old acquaintances. Her mother joined in, her smile polite but curious as her eyes flicked between Nadine and Noah.

"Good to see you, Noah," her father said. "It's been a while."

"Yes, sir. It has," Noah replied, his tone respectful but easy. "I just wanted to make sure Nadine got home safely."

Her father's smile widened. "A good man. Thank you."

Nadine stood silently, feeling more like a spectator than a participant. She glanced at Noah, who seemed completely at ease, chatting with her parents as though this were a normal part of his evening.

Eventually, he excused himself, turning back to her. "Goodnight, Nadine," he said, his voice softer now. "See you soon."

And with that, he was gone, leaving her standing by the gate as her parents turned their attention to her. But all she could think about was the way he'd said those last words, as if they were a promise.

As her mother ushered her inside, her father's voice echoed in her mind: A good man.

For the first time, Nadine wondered if her parents might be right.

"What's that? A date? I didn't know you two kept in touch," her father asked curiously, his eyes narrowing as he gestured toward her. Nadine froze mid-step, caught off guard by the question.

"Oh," she said, keeping her tone light as she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "I went to a book café earlier and, uh, accidentally spilled my coffee on someone. Turns out it was Noah." She paused, feeling her parents' attention sharpen. "Then, we decided to dinner together."

She kept her voice breezy, as if recounting something trivial. She purposefully avoided calling it a date, hoping to deflect any unnecessary speculation. Her mother's gaze, however, remained fixed on her, unyielding and suspicious.

Her father, on the other hand, leaned back slightly, his expression softening. "Glad to hear that," he said. "You've barely settled in, and I know it must be tough adjusting. At least you went out and had a little company."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Nadine replied, her voice tight. She quickly added, "Goodnight," before stepping forward to hug her father briefly.

"Oh, before I forget, tomorrow we're going to have dinner with Noah's family. Since you're back now, we're going to discuss further about your marriage."

Nadine nodded her head, understanding.

As she moved to hug her mother, the gesture was met with a stony indifference that sent a shiver down Nadine's spine. Her mother's gaze lingered on her like a predator's, dissecting her with unnerving precision. Nadine tried to shrug it off, but her nerves betrayed her, and she felt her heart race as she climbed the stairs.

Reaching her room, she slipped inside and turned to close the door behind her. But before she could, a hand caught the edge of the door, stopping it in its tracks. Nadine's breath hitched as her mother stepped inside without a word, her expression cold and unreadable.

"I could smell jjigae on your clothes," her mother said sharply, her tone laced with disdain. "That's what you had for dinner, isn't it?"

Nadine blinked in surprise, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Unbelievable, she thought. Does she have some kind of superhuman sense of smell?

Her mother's eyes bore into hers, demanding an answer. "Yes, we had jjigae," Nadine admitted, keeping her tone neutral as she turned away, hoping to end the conversation. But before she could take a step, her mother's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist tightly.

Her mother's nails dug painfully into her skin, sharp crescents threatening to break through the surface. Nadine flinched but didn't pull away, knowing it would only make things worse. "Don't ever do that again," her mother hissed, her voice low but venomous.

Nadine turned to face her fully, her heart pounding. "Do what?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound composed.

"Don't do things your way," her mother snapped, her grip tightening. "Do you think he'll still stick around once he sees you for what you really are? Once you're no longer pretty? Don't get too comfortable, Nadine."

The words struck like a blow to her chest. Nadine felt her throat tighten, but she refused to let the tears fall—not in front of her mother. Her skin burned where her mother's nails pressed into it, and her heart ached from the sharpness of her words.

When her mother finally released her wrist, Nadine stumbled back a step, cradling the sore spot against her chest. Without another word, her mother swept out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Nadine's legs gave out beneath her. She sank to the floor, her knees hitting the hardwood with a dull thud. The sobs came fast and hard, wracking her chest as she pressed her palms against her face. The pain from her wrist was nothing compared to the ache that spread through her entire body—a suffocating heaviness she couldn't escape.

Her mother's words echoed in her mind, slicing through her like a blade. Once you're no longer pretty. Don't get too comfortable.

The anxiety crept in slowly, like a rising tide, until it drowned out everything else.

Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, her chest tightening painfully. The familiar nausea churned in her stomach. Before she could stop herself, she ran toward her bathroom. Her body convulsed as she began to vomit, her chest heaving with the force of it.

When it was over, she slumped against the wall of her bathroom, her body trembling. Tears streamed down her face, her vision blurry and unfocused. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, her breathing uneven as she tried to pull herself together.

But the words wouldn't leave her. They hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on her until it felt like she might break under the weight of