Chapter 6 Terms of a union

I woke up to my father’s voice calling from downstairs.

“Rose, get ready. We’re going to the Millers.”

I slipped out of bed quietly, brushing my hair into a neat bun before grabbing my coat.

When I came down, they were all waiting — Melissa in a pastel dress, Anna already smiling that fake, polished smile she wore in front of strangers. My father stood beside them, checking his watch.

“Finally,” he said, sighing as if I had made them late on purpose. “We’re discussing the wedding details today. The Millers are expecting us.”

I simply nodded and followed them out.

The car ride was silent except for Melissa’s occasional chatter about venues and fabrics, words that floated past me like smoke. Anna was scrolling through her phone, her reflection smug in the window. I sat quietly, staring outside, my thoughts somewhere far beyond the road ahead.

When we arrived at the Millers’ mansion, Megan Miller herself greeted us at the door. Her face brightened the moment she saw me.

“Oh, Rose, dear,” she said warmly, reaching out to take my hands. “I’m so glad you came. You look lovely.”

Her sincerity startled me a little. I smiled faintly. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

“Please,” she said softly, “call me Megan.”

She ushered us inside with that effortless grace that came from years of composure. The living room was elegantly set up, soft music playing in the background, sunlight falling on marble floors and golden picture frames.

Connor was already there, sitting on one end of the sofa. He didn’t bother to stand when we entered, just glanced up briefly — his gaze cold, sharp, and dismissive.

When our eyes met, I expected polite acknowledgment, maybe even indifference. What I got instead was something closer to irritation.

“Can we talk?” he asked flatly, already walking toward the hallway.

My father gestured for me to follow, and I did.

We stopped in a quiet study lined with books. Connor leaned against the desk, crossing his arms, studying me for a long moment.

“I’ll be straightforward,” he said finally. “I don’t love you. I’ll never love you. There’s someone else, and I won’t give that up.”

I said nothing. His tone didn’t hurt me; it just confirmed what I already knew — this marriage wasn’t about love, not for either of us.

He continued, “You’ll have everything you need. Money, status, comfort, I’ll make sure of that. But don’t expect affection from me.”

I met his gaze evenly. “That’s fine,” I said quietly. “I don’t need your affection, Connor. I’m not marrying you for love either.”

He blinked, caught off guard by my calm. “So you’re fine with this?”

“I don’t see a reason not to be,” I replied. “We both get what we want. You get to keep your freedom, and I get to live without pretense.”

For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to argue, but then he simply nodded. “Good.”

As we walked back into the living room, Anna was already there, lounging comfortably in her seat. The way she looked at me, that triumphant spark in her eyes, said everything she didn’t dare say aloud.

Connor ignored her entirely. I almost laughed at how pathetic her little victory seemed when the man she was fighting for barely noticed her existence.

Megan smiled brightly when she saw us return. “Ah, there you two are. We were just talking about the ceremony. I think Monday will be perfect. Don’t you agree, Thomas?”

My father, who’d been engaged in light conversation with her, nodded quickly. “Of course, Mrs. Miller. Monday it is.”

I wasn’t even paying attention to the details anymore, the flowers, the music, the guest list.

Megan’s voice cut through the noise again. “Everything will be taken care of, Rose. You just have to show up and let us handle the rest.”

I smiled faintly. “That’s kind of you, Mrs.—Megan.”

Her hand brushed mine, gentle, motherly. “I mean it, dear. You’re family now.”

Family.

The word felt foreign on my tongue.

Connor stayed quiet through most of the meeting. He didn’t look at me, didn’t say another word. I could feel his disinterest like a shadow over my shoulder.

Meanwhile, Anna sat on the other side of the room, her chin resting on her hand, her gaze darting between me and Connor. When he looked away, she smiled to herself like she’d just won some invisible battle.

I ignored her. That’s all her games were worth, silence.

When Megan suggested we move to the garden for tea, I followed without protest. My father laughed lightly beside her, as if he hadn’t just signed away his daughter’s future for convenience. Melissa, of course, played the perfect guest, complimenting everything, pretending she wasn’t the reason my life had turned into this.

The sun was warm on my shoulders as we stepped outside. Birds were singing, roses blooming, the kind of picture-perfect peace that always felt ironic in moments like these.

Megan turned to me once more, her tone full of genuine kindness. “I know this must all feel overwhelming, dear. But things have a way of settling beautifully when handled with grace.”

I nodded. “I’m sure they do.”

Her eyes softened. “You remind me of myself at your age. Strong-willed, but quiet about it.”

For a fleeting second, I almost let my guard down. There was something comforting in her presence — something that reminded me faintly of my mother. But then I saw Melissa in the background, laughing at something Anna had said, and I pulled myself back together.

I couldn’t afford sentiment. Not now.

When the discussion was finally over, my father clasped his hands together and smiled as though everything was perfect.

“Well,” he said cheerfully, “looks like we have a wedding on Monday. Everything’s settled.”

Megan nodded, satisfied. “Indeed. I’ll have the planner reach out about the final touches.”

“Thank you, Megan,” my father said, his voice dripping with gratitude. “This means so much to us.”

“Of course,” she said kindly. Then, turning to me, “Rose, I’ll have a few things sent to your home for fittings. You’ll look stunning, I’m sure.”

I smiled politely. “Thank you.”

Connor excused himself almost immediately after, muttering something about work. Anna followed him with her eyes, but he didn’t even glance in her direction. I could practically feel her frustration burning in the air.

As we stood to leave, Megan reached for my hand again. “Don’t worry, dear. You’ll adjust in time.”

“I know,” I said softly. “Thank you for today.”

She smiled, her eyes kind. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re part of our family now.”

On the drive home, I kept quiet. Melissa and Anna talked about decorations and dresses as though they were the ones getting married. My father hummed to himself, satisfied.

When we got back, I went straight to my room.