Six #3
As the meal continues, the conversation flows easily—too easily. Austin charms the socks off my parents, laughing at Dad’s bad jokes, complimenting Mum’s cooking, and even offering to help clear the table. It’s like he’s been rehearsing for this moment his whole life.
Meanwhile, I’m left trying to keep up, feeling like a supporting character in a movie where Austin’s the star. And the worst part? I don’t even mind. Watching him fit so seamlessly into this world, into my world, does something to me. Something I’m not ready to admit yet.
MUM SETS DOWN A plate of her infamous treacle tart, and Austin digs in with gusto, declaring it the best he’s ever had. Dad pours him another glass of wine, and Mum looks like she’s mentally planning our wedding menu.
I am barely half way through my dessert when Mum pounces. Her eyes gleam with curiosity, her fork poised mid-air. I can feel it coming before the words even leave her mouth.
“So, Austin,” she starts, her tone so casual it’s clearly fake, “how did you propose? Mia didn’t give us any details.”
Oh no.
I freeze, my fork hovering over my bowl. My brain feels like it’s been scrambled and put in the microwave. Austin, of course, doesn’t miss a beat. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and leans back in his chair like he’s got this all under control.
“Well,” he begins smoothly, glancing at me with a twinkle in his eye that makes me want to throw my fork at him, “I wanted it to be special. Something she’d remember forever.”
Mum clasps her hands together like she’s about to burst into song. “How romantic! Go on.”
I clear my throat, trying to interject, but Austin’s already launched into the performance of a lifetime.
“It was a surprise,” he continues, his voice warm and confident. “I took her to this little park near our building. It was quiet, just the two of us under the fairy lights. I had a bottle of champagne hidden nearby, and when the moment felt right, I got down on one knee.”
Mum gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. “Fairy lights! Oh, how lovely!”
Dad, who’s been unusually quiet, nods in approval. “Classic. Understated. I like it.”
I’m choking on my own saliva at this point, and Austin glances at me like he’s daring me to argue. I kick him under the table, but he doesn’t even flinch.
“And what did you say, Mia?” Mum asks, turning to me with stars in her eyes.
“Uh . . .” I stammer, my face burning. “I said yes. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Austin echoes with a smirk, taking a sip of his wine like this is the most fun he’s had all week.
Mum sighs dreamily, her fork forgotten. “What a beautiful story. I knew Austin was the one the moment I saw that photo Amber posted. The way you were looking at each other—it was magical.”
“Oh, it was magic, all right,” I mutter under my breath, stabbing a piece of treacle tart with unnecessary force.
“And the ring?” Mum presses, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why haven’t we seen it yet? You’re not hiding it, are you?”
“Well, funny story about that—” I start, but Austin cuts me off like the smooth operator he is.
“It’s being resized,” he says easily. “I wanted it to fit her perfectly. Nothing but the best for my girl.”
My girl. I’m going to kill him.
Mum looks like she’s about to cry. “You’ve found yourself a good one, Mia. I knew you’d settle down with someone wonderful eventually.”
“Eventually,” Dad agrees, earning a sharp glare from me.
Austin chuckles, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “Well, I’m just lucky she said yes.”
I down half my glass of water, trying to cool the heat crawling up my neck. This is a disaster. A perfectly choreographed disaster. And the worst part? My parents are eating it up like it’s the second course.
We are eating our dessert in silence when my Dad puts down his glass and looks at me with that serious dad face—the one he reserves for emotional speeches and tax advice.
“Listen,” he says, his voice gruff but warm, “Now that you have found ‘the one’, your mum and I have agreed that we want to pay for your wedding. It’s not every day my little girl gets engaged, and I want to do this right.”
My jaw drops. “Dad—”
“No arguments,” he cuts me off. “I want to give you the day you deserve. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”
Austin leans forward, his expression softening. “That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. Jameson.”
“Please, call me Graham,” Dad says, waving a hand. “And it’s not generous—it’s what we’ve always planned. Nothing but the best for my little girl.”
I stare at my tart, my stomach twisting in knots. This is spiraling. A fake engagement was one thing, but now my dad’s ready to splash the cash on a wedding that doesn’t even exist.
“Thank you, Dad,” I say weakly, avoiding Austin’s gaze.
Mum beams. “Oh, this is going to be wonderful. We’ll start looking at venues soon. Maybe even that lovely barn conversion down the road. It’s very trendy these days.”
Austin squeezes my hand again under the table, and I glance at him, only to find that damn smirk tugging at his lips and I know exactly what he’s thinking.
We’re in this too deep now.