Chapter 5: Family Meeting.

10 YEARS LATER

TAMARA

“Tamara, wake up!!!”

“No! Go away!!” I groaned, my voice muffled beneath the blanket as the sunlight crept into my room.

“You’re too old for this, Tee. Come on, get up.” Maggie sighed and yanked the covers away from me again.

“Why? Why do I have to wake up? I don’t even have work today!” I whined, grabbing for the blanket, but she held it tight.

“Because you have to meet Noel’s family today!!”

What?

Oh my God.

With a startled shout, I sprang out of bed so fast our heads collided.

“Ah!”

“Shit.”

We both hissed in pain, clutching our foreheads.

“I’m sorry, Maggie! I completely forgot it was today. What am I going to do? I’m not ready!” I panicked, rushing to the closet.

“I already have your dress. We just need to fix your hair and makeup, and you’re good,” Maggie said, trailing after me.

Relief flooded through me. I turned and hugged her so tight she stumbled back.

“What would I do without you, Mag?”

“Okay, okay, enough.” She wriggled free, chuckling. “Get dressed.”

I nodded and dashed into the bathroom for a shower. My thoughts raced as I scrubbed my body clean. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten what today was. I’d been looking forward to this moment ever since Noel proposed a few months ago.

After two years together, saying yes had felt easy. He was good, steady, dependable and kind. An accountant at a big firm here in Russia. He worshipped the ground I walked on. He never cursed, was always polite, always thoughtful. He helped old ladies cross the road and left spare change at shops just because.

He wasn’t my first choice, or even my fifth, but I wasn’t looking for choices anymore. I was looking for peace. For security.

When I stepped out, a red polka-dot dress was already laid out on my bed, modest enough to make my mother proud.

I sighed. The dress had a high neckline, sleeves to my elbows, and a flowing skirt that brushed my calves. The fabric was thick enough to hide almost everything, except the inevitable outline of my hips and chest. Noel hated when I showed too much skin. He said it didn’t “speak well” of me. I didn’t agree, but I wore what made him happy.

At least Maggie had good taste. The dress wasn’t entirely awful on me.

She came in soon after to style my hair and apply light makeup, just enough to look alive, not enough for Noel to notice.

By the time I was done, hours had passed. My phone pinged: a message from Noel.

“Wish me luck,” I said, my stomach fluttering.

“You don’t need luck, Tee. You are luck itself.”

I laughed softly. “You’re sweet.”

Then I rushed downstairs and out to where Noel’s Hyundai was parked neatly in front of the house.

“Hi,” I greeted as I slid into the passenger seat. I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned at the last second, my lips met his instead.

I flushed.

“Hi, Sunflower,” he said with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

Heat crept up my neck. “Thank you. You look good too,” I said, taking in his mustard-yellow shirt, ash-gray pants, and black sandals. He wasn’t the gym type, but he had an easy, quiet charm. The black-rimmed glasses, the slightly messy hair, they suited him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, turning the ignition.

“I am,” I lied.

“How many people will be there?” I asked, fiddling with the hem of my dress.

“Just my mother, grandma, and a few aunts,” he said. “Oh—and my brother.”

“Brother?” I frowned. He’d never mentioned one before.

“Yeah,” Noel admitted, his tone almost cautious. “He usually skips family dinners, so I didn’t think he’d come. I’m sorry, Sunflower. I should’ve told you.”

I waved it off. “It’s fine.”

I’d met his mother once; she’d been lovely. If his brother was anything like her or Noel, there was nothing to fear.

The drive took us to the outskirts of the city, to one of the wealthiest neighborhoods. Noel told me the house had been a gift from his brother for their mother’s sixtieth birthday. From the way he said it, I sensed some tension, maybe envy. Noel wasn’t the kind of man who flaunted wealth.

The house was magnificent, white walls, tall windows, an ornate gate guarding the driveway. A marble fountain shimmered at the center of the lawn, surrounded by carefully trimmed flowers. It all looked… untouchable.

Inside, the luxury deepened. Crystal chandeliers spilled golden light over marble floors polished to glass. Tapestries and expensive art lined the walls. The air smelled faintly of roses and cedarwood.

A maid led us to the dining room, where the table overflowed with dishes that made my stomach rumble.

Noel’s mother was the first to greet us. Lucy was stunning, curvy and elegant, with soft brown eyes and black hair that shimmered in the light. She pulled me into a warm hug.

“Oh, you gorgeous girl. So lovely to see you again,” she said, squeezing me.

“Nice to see you too, Ms. Lucy,” I smiled.

“Oh, none of that ‘Ms.’ nonsense,” she teased, patting my cheek. “Call me Lucy, Tamara darling.”

Noel hugged her next, kissing her cheek. “Mama.”

Their affection made my chest ache a little. If he had shared such a bond with his mother… would things have ended differently?

I pushed the thought away before it ruined my mood.

Noel’s grandmother came next, Anna. She was older, but carried herself like she ruled the house.

“What are you wearing, boy?” she snapped, pointing her cane at Noel. “That shirt looks ridiculous.”

Her thick accent made even her insults sound grand. Noel just chuckled, used to it. He introduced us, and she smiled kindly. “You’re a doll,” she said, tapping my cheek.

Soon, other family members arrived, Lucy’s sisters, their children, everyone warm and welcoming. Still, my eyes kept darting toward the stairs, wondering where this elusive brother was.

We finally sat to eat, and I let the anticipation fade. The food was divine, roast meats, buttery vegetables, golden pastries that melted in my mouth.

Conversation flowed easily. They asked about my work, my studies, Maggie, my parents. I told them I was a nurse at a teaching hospital, balancing shifts and classes, living with Maggie the baker.

My parents, both pastors, still lived downtown, preaching and praying through every storm.

They listened, smiling, no judgment, no cold stares. Just warmth. For the first time in years, I felt… accepted.

And then—