"On your knees now"
Nedvar spoke with a harsh tone, a tone he never uses it with Hermione.
Hermione stood there shocked, not believing any word he just spoke. She stood there contemplating her thoughts and his order.
He was always requesting and h...
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"Ethan was closer to Nedvar than to anyone else in the family, so Nedvar decided to raise him as his own son," Mama Clair finished explaining to Hermione the story of how Nedvar became a single father.
Hermione listened intently, learning how Nedvar had lost his older sister and Ethan had lost the most important people in his life. She found herself surprised that her own parents supported this marriage. Even her brother Carlo, who always acted like the elder between them, was on board with the idea.
Something felt off, though.
Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was hiding something from her, something that had been causing the recent problems in her life.
"I know you think it’s too soon to get married," Mama Clair said softly, holding Hermione’s hand. "Your papa and I have always trusted you to make your own decisions because we believe in you. But—" her voice was gentle, as if she were speaking to a child rather than a grown woman. Clair caressed her daughter’s cheek tenderly. "This time, I want you to trust us. Trust our decision and agree to this marriage."
Hermione took a deep breath, letting her mother’s words sink in. She didn’t respond, and Clair didn’t push. Instead, she kissed her daughter’s cheek with a warm smile, the kind that always made Hermione feel safe and loved.
“Non stressarti troppo, dormi adesso e domani saprai cosa fare. Buonanotte, tesoro.” (Don’t stress too much, sleep now, and tomorrow you’ll know what to do. Good night, honey), Clair said as she walked toward the door. Hermione gave a small smile in return before her mother left the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Hermione let out a deep sigh and collapsed onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling, her mind swirling with everything that had happened. Never in her life, had a family dinner been so awkward, filled with such tense silence. It was usually a time of laughter, teasing, and chaos, but tonight felt more like a funeral.
Another sigh escaped her as she tried to clear her thoughts. She got up and took a quick shower, hoping the warm water would wash away the turmoil in her head. After drying off and putting on her nightclothes, she stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair.
As her hand paused mid-stroke, she stared at her reflection. A faint frown still creased her forehead, and she felt lost, confused, and overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t even name.
