I Ran Before He Could Lie

Yeah. I knew exactly who that "important person" was.

Mia. Fresh off the plane from whatever fancy school abroad.

He talked to me like I was five, like I was throwing a tantrum over nap time.

But then—

I caught my reflection in the window.

White dress—custom-made. Hair styled to perfection. Tight waist, long legs, chest all dolled up.

I looked like one of those drama queens in TV romances. The ones who get dream proposals and perfect endings.

I looked like a grown-up.

Like a woman.

Last time around? His laptop screensaver was a shot of Mia.

He'd stare at it like it held the secrets of the universe—chest heaving.

They said that's how a man looks at a woman.

The way he looked at me? Same way he looked at his niece when she whined for candy.

I gripped the hem of my dress. I was ready to say it—this time, I really didn't want to marry him.

Then his phone rang.

Mia's custom ringtone.

Hugh lit up, instantly pulling it out. His voice went soft, syrupy.

"Mia? You're here? Something came up on my end, but I'll fix it soon. Stay put—I'll come get you."

I just stood there, listening to his voice melt for her.

Same as before.

Even on Bowie's birthday, he'd drop everything if Mia called—freaking out over delayed flights or her luggage.

And Bowie? My kid I nearly died bringing into the world? He'd mimic Hugh's voice to a tee: "Mom, you're so useless. You mess up everything. I wish Aunt Mia were here."

Hugh hung up, didn't even wait for my answer. Just shoved the ring box into my hand and patted my head.

"Be good, Wenna. Go home with Patrick first. I'll bring you candy tonight, okay?"

Then he turned to his assistant, all business. "Patrick, take care of Wenna. Keep the press quiet—don't let anything slip about her condition."

Patrick gave a nod.

Hugh walked off.

Didn't even look back.

And around me? It was open season.

Whispers, laughs, none of it subtle.

"Told you. A diplomat proposing to a retard? Total PR stunt. Now that Mia's back in Carmoria, he's already ditching her."

"He's always been in love with his foster sister. Poor thing doesn't even get it. If she feels this bad now, wait till they're married."

I stood there, dead center of this made-for-TV proposal scene—flowers, fairy lights, all of it.

The ring box in my hand was like a brick.

Everyone was laughing.

And yeah—I was the punchline.

Patrick looked over, voice flat. "Ms. Wade, let's head back."

I shook my head. "I'll go on my own."

He blinked. Didn't expect that.

I grabbed my dress, heels digging into my already wrecked feet, and walked toward the exit.

I knew the way.

Hugh once taught me the roads, in case I got lost.

But Mia was back now.

The real lady of the house.

So no—I wasn't going back.

I walked away. One steady step at a time.

In the opposite direction.

***

I had no money. But hey—they said if you worked, you wouldn't starve.

Six hours straight, I job-hunted. Nothing. I was wiped, starving, and dehydrated when I wandered into a bar... and bam.

Hugh.

With Mia.