𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

Statement Of Intent

"Why is Uncle here today? Is there a special occasion?" I ask, adopting a naive expression that mirrors the one the original Faye often wore around Caden. I play the role of the clueless participant flawlessly, maintaining a façade of innocence, though my thoughts are already racing ahead. In their eyes, I'm still the clueless one-ironically, the potential bride, the only person here who 'has no idea' about the marriage proposal. Of course, thanks to Assistant Uno, I'm well aware, but they don't need to know that. Time is money, after all, and I have no desire to dwell on unnecessary pleasantries.

Mr. Timewell glances in my direction, his expression subtly displeased by the interruption. Caden, on the other hand, looks momentarily bewildered, as if he can't quite comprehend why I've slipped back into the demeanor of the original Faye. Across from us, Mr. Lozero chuckles awkwardly, a slight tension hanging in the air.

"I haven't had the chance to inform Faye about the proposal yet," Mr. Lozero says, his gaze flicking to Caden. "But since you're already here," he gestures toward him with a casual wave, "why don't you tell her yourself?" His tone is light, almost too light, but beneath it, there's a barely concealed mockery aimed at the Timewells for their impatience. The atmosphere shifts ever so slightly, though no one directly acknowledges it. I simply nod, staying in character, letting them think I'm just along for the ride. And for once, it'd be fun to see Caden be the person begging. I'm sure if the original Faye is watching from heaven or hell, she'll be very satisfied. Unfortunately for her soul, I don't plan on accepting any stupid proposals that don't benefit me.

Caden clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter, trying to gather confidence. That familiar, well-practiced smile of his reappears, though it's more forced than usual. He's clearly uncomfortable with my indifference, and I can see the tension in his voice as he struggles to handle this conversation now that I'm no longer pining after him.

"Well, Faye," he starts, glancing briefly at his father, seeking some sort of confirmation. But Mr. Timewell doesn't intervene. He watches silently, his expression stern, not amused but intent on letting Caden handle this on his own. Part of his training, no doubt. Caden presses on, his eyes returning to me. "It's not exactly a special occasion. My father and I have been talking, and we believe it's the right time to... take things in a new direction."

He pauses, likely expecting a reaction that I have no intention of giving. The discomfort in his voice becomes more apparent, and I relish how he falters, losing the confidence he once wore so easily.

"We... uh, we think it's best for both families," Caden continues, his voice wavering slightly. "You and I have known each other for a long time. And with everything that's been happening lately..." He trails off, struggling to find the right words, as if he's grasping for something-anything-that might bring back the old Faye, the one who would hang on his every word.

I simply watch, my expression calm and expectant.

"So," he stammers, looking increasingly flustered, "we thought-a proposal could benefit both of us. You... you were always interested in me, right? And this could be the perfect opportunity for us to finally... formalize things."

His eyes flicker nervously, trying to gauge my reaction, but I blink slowly, letting the silence hang heavy between us.

Caden shifts on his feet, his hands fidgeting as he searches for more to say. "I mean, it's not just about us," he adds, his voice a bit louder, as if trying to convince himself. "Think of the business potential! Our families-our companies-could really benefit from this partnership. It's logical, Faye."

He's clearly trying to appeal to my rational side, but I can see the desperation creeping in, his voice slightly trembling as he fumbles for words. "And, um, it could make you happy, right? I know how much you like being around me, and-" He shifts nervously, running a hand through his hair, the color rising in his cheeks.