Athena stood before the mirror, staring at the reflection that almost didn’t feel like her.
The woman staring back was ethereal—a vision wrapped in silk and moonlight. The gown was a masterpiece of understated elegance: ivory satin that hugged her figure before spilling into a soft train, the bodice detailed with lace embroidery that shimred faintly under the golden light.
A delicate off-shoulder neckline frad her collarbones, leaving her shoulders bare, while a thin diamond chain glinted at her throat—subtle, graceful, regal. Her hair was gathered in soft waves, pinned at one side with a cluster of white blossoms.
For a mont, she simply stared—at the way the gown curved, how the lights played across its surface, how poised she appeared. She should have felt joy, or excitent. Instead, there was an ache deep in her chest, a strange awareness that she was walking into a life chanically constructed for her.
Still, it was beautiful. The image was beautiful.
Behind her, laughter fluttered like bells.
"Oh, Athena," Gianna breathed from the doorway, her eyes widening in admiration. "You’re glowing."
"She’s more than glowing," ca Chelsea’s teasing voice as she stepped in, looking gorgeous in a peach gown that caught the light with every movent. "She’s blinding. We might as well cancel the lights."
Athena snorted softly, shaking her head. "You’re all exaggerating."
Chelsea grinned. "Not even close. Look at you—goddess mode activated."
Behind them, Susan and Areso peeked in, giggling, whispering sothing about how the groom would faint.
Athena couldn’t help but smile. Their joy was contagious.
"Alright, ladies," Gianna said, offering a mock bow. "Let’s escort our princess to her throne."
They arranged themselves around her as though forming a procession, each taking part in the mont as if it were already a wedding. Athena allowed them to fuss, fixing a stray curl, smoothing her gown, before they led her through the doorway and down the long hallway.
The air was filled with the faint lody of a piano drifting from below—soft, romantic, tiless. Each step echoed faintly as they descended the grand staircase, her heels glinting beneath the gown.
And then she saw it.
The living room—transford.
If she hadn’t known the space by heart, she wouldn’t have recognized it.
The vast room, usually calm in muted cream and gold, now shimred with light and color. Crystal colored chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, scattering rainbows across the polished marble floor. Ivory drapes frad the tall windows, swaying gently in the evening breeze. Every surface seed to glow—candles flickering in glass votives, vases overflowing with lilies, roses, and white orchids.
The furniture had been replaced or reupholstered for the evening—cream couches wrapped in gold ribbons, chairs with velvet cushions, silver trays glinting beneath platters of hors d’oeuvres. Even the servants, lined discreetly along the edges, were dressed in black and white formalwear, their hair neatly styled.
Athena’s breath caught in her throat. This was too much.
The guests turned as she appeared at the top of the staircase—a collective hush rippling through the room, followed by applause and cheers.
Florence rose first from one of the decorated sofas, her smile proud and knowing. She extended a hand, and Athena descended, eting her halfway into a tight embrace.
"My beautiful girl," Florence whispered against her ear, voice thick with emotion. "Just look at you."
Athena smiled, hugging her back before Florence guided her forward—to the heart of the room, where Antonio stood waiting.
He was... handso. Devastatingly so.
The black tuxedo fit him perfectly, the sharp lines accentuating his tall fra. His hair was neatly styled, and when he turned, his dark eyes locked on her with an intensity that had her blushing.
For a second, the noise faded and her doubts loosened just a little.
Antonio stepped forward, his smile spreading, and without waiting for any signal or speech, he dropped to one knee.
Gasps and laughter erupted around them.
"Already?" soone whispered, followed by Aiden’s amused voice: "He couldn’t even wait for the toast."
Antonio grinned, unbothered, eyes never leaving Athena’s. "How could I wait," he said, loud enough for all to hear, "when a goddess stands before ?"
More laughter and applause.
Athena laughed too—genuinely, softly, the sound mingling with the crowd’s cheer. Her cheeks flushed as Antonio opened the velvet box, the diamond ring gleaming under the chandelier’s glow.
For a heartbeat, the world held still. Then she nodded, her voice low but clear. "Yes."
The applause thundered.
Antonio rose swiftly, sliding the ring onto her finger with steady hands before pulling her into a kiss—deep, sure, sealing the mont amid the roar of laughter and clapping.
And when he broke the kiss, and whispered sothing against her ear, sothing tender she barely caught, she found herself smiling despite the unease curling deep inside.
He held her close, his hand resting lightly at her waist, his lips brushing her ear again as he murmured sothing playful. Athena shifted slightly, aware of the eyes on them—especially her children’s.
When she finally t their gaze, she froze.
They were smiling, yes—clapping, laughing like everyone else—but for a fleeting second, she saw sothing else. Uncertainty. A quiet discomfort hidden beneath their bright expressions.
It vanished almost instantly as they rushed forward, cheering.
"Mom!" Kathleen called, flinging small arms around her waist. "Congratulations!"
"Thank you," she managed, kissing their hair, her chest tightening. Was she being paranoid now?
Antonio bent down, laughing, wrapping the children in a quick hug. "Thank you for accepting ," he said warmly, his voice soft but firm. "You’re the best part of this family already."
More cheers. But Athena couldn’t shake the flicker she had seen in her children’s eyes.
Was it surprise? Doubt? She didn’t know.
Still, she smiled through it all, hugging friends, accepting toasts, listening to the endless congratulations, pushing the ache deeper especially when she noticed that Ewan was absent.
Then she noticed Antonio’s friends—three n standing near the drinks table, unfamiliar faces. They smiled politely as she approached, their handshakes firm but impersonal. There was sothing guarded in their eyes, a detachnt that made her skin prickle.
"Congratulations, Dr. Athena," one of them said smoothly. "A pleasure to finally et you."
"Thank you," she replied with practiced warmth.
The mont the door to the living room opened, her attention snapped toward it—and she didn’t need to see the figure to know who it was.
Ewan.
Their gazes t across the room, the noise fading around her. His face—always composed— was now unreadable, but his eyes betrayed him. Pain. Quiet, raw pain.
And then, as quickly as it ca, the mask fell back in place—that calm, aloof indifference she knew too well.
Athena’s heart twisted. Would their friendship survive this? Or had she crossed a line even she didn’t fully understand?
The children saw him first. With a cry of delight, they rushed to him, unafraid, unhesitating.
He smiled faintly, kneeling to greet them, his gaze flicking briefly back to Athena. She bit her lip, and forced herself to look away.
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