Chapter 5 Unwelcome Realizations II

Silence.

The effect was immediate.

Rachael, mid-sip, choked on her drink. She coughed violently, her eyes widening as a deep, burning shade of red crawled up her neck and onto her face.

Jason blinked. "Wait, what?"

Rachael slammed her glass onto the nearest table and turned to Ryan with the deadliest glare she could muster. "Excuse me?"

Ryan remained completely unfazed, lazily taking another sip of his whiskey as he watched her reaction unfold with amusement.

Jason, still trying to process, pointed a slow, accusing finger at Rachael. "Hold on. Hold on. You... you had a crush on me?"

Rachael, now resembling a fifty-shade-dark tomato, clenched her jaw. "I did not"

Ryan tilted his head slightly. "Your face says otherwise."

Jason's lips parted in shock. "No way. This...this changes everything."

Rachael groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh my God."

But Jason was already grinning like he had just discovered the biggest secret of the century. "So let me get this straight," he said, leaning toward her. "Back in high school, when I thought you were just my super cool little sister... you were secretly in love with me?"

Rachael shot Ryan another murderous glare before crossing her arms. "It was not love."

Jason let out an exaggerated gasp. "But it was a crush?"

Rachael looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. She pointed a warning finger at him. "Don't. Push. It."

Jason, being Jason, absolutely pushed it. "So when you saw me dating all those girls back then, were you..."

"I swear, Jason, if you finish that sentence, I will murder you in cold blood."

Ryan chuckled under his breath.

Jason, grinning ear to ear, placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "I don't know what to say. This is such a revelation. Rachael, my dear, if only you had told me back then... maybe..."

"Maybe what?" She snapped.

Jason blinked, then shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I would have given you a chance."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Rachael grabbed the nearest napkin and threw it straight at his face. "You moron."

Ryan chuckled again, thoroughly enjoying the chaos he had caused.

Jason removed the napkin from his face, his grin never faltering. "Wow. This is amazing. Rachael, my secret admirer." He placed a hand over his heart. "I feel so loved."

Rachael looked two seconds away from committing a felony.

Ryan, having enjoyed enough entertainment for the night, set his glass down and looked at Jason with mild amusement. "Congratulations," he said dryly. "You were desirable."

Jason smirked. "As always."

Rachael exhaled sharply, still glaring at Ryan. "I hate you."

Ryan simply smirked, lifting his glass again. "I know."

-------

The sleek black car pulled into the driveway, the engine humming softly as it came to a stop. The night air was chilly, and Irene stepped out with an air of composure, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she made her way up the walkway. Louis, always attentive, followed a few paces behind, holding the door open for her as she entered her sprawling home.

Irene had been eager to return to the safety of her privacy she cherished it above all else, especially after an evening filled with unwanted attention and whispers. She was a woman who really love having her space, who didn't let anyone intrude on her personal space, and her home was her sanctuary. But as she approached the door, her pace slowed. She saw her mother waiting for her just inside, standing there in the dimly lit foyer, as if expecting her.

Irene's heart sank slightly. She had hoped for some peace, but it was clear her mother had other plans. The woman stood there, her face full of concern, hands clasped together nervously.

Irene's expression hardened as she caught sight of her mother. Her gaze sharpened, and she gave a look one that clearly said, I'll be changing my passcode soon if you don't stop this.

Her mothers face flickered with guilt, a soft flush rising in her cheeks as she instinctively stepped back. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, which only softened Irene's irritation for a split second. Irene let out a deep sigh, her frustration building as she turned to Louis, who was standing behind her, clearly holding back a chuckle.

"I didn't think I'd be dealing with this tonight," Irene muttered under her breath, but Louis, ever the loyal companion, couldn't help but laugh softly. His quiet chuckle didn't go unnoticed by Irene, and she shot him a half-hearted glare, but it did little to hide the faint smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

Her mother's voice broke through the silence, soft and tentative. "Irene, sweetheart, how was the ball? Why are you home so early?"

Irene scoffed, "Was I supposed to stay long at a party I was forced to go to in the first place?"

Her mother sighed. "Irene..."

She took a moment before answering. "It was fine," Irene said flatly, her eyes distant as she removed her coat and draped it over the chair. "I just... wanted to come home early. That's all."

Her mother stepped closer, though, not quite convinced. "Irene, sweetheart, are you sure everything is alright? You look... a little off."

Irene sighed, irritation flickering across her features, though she tried to conceal it. She had grown used to her mother's constant worry, but it was becoming a bit too much to handle at that moment.

"It's nothing," she replied, her tone colder now. "Just...work. I don't need to talk about it, Mom."

Her mother's expression softened, though she pressed on. "Irene, you're my only child, my everything. You don't have to hide things from me, you know. I just want you to be happy."

Irene's face hardened as she looked at her mother, the usual mask of indifference slipping into place. "I don't need anyone to make me happy, Mom," she replied sharply. "You know that. I've always been fine on my own."

Her mother seemed to falter at her words, her voice trembling slightly. "But sometimes, sweetheart, I just wish you'd let someone in."

Irene's gaze turned icy, though there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes. She had always valued her independence, but there was no denying the weight of her mother's words. "I've been doing just fine," she said curtly. "And you know I don't need anyone's help."

Louis watched this exchange quietly, standing off to the side. He knew better than to intrude. Irene and her mother had a dynamic that was unique a mother's concern and a daughter's need for privacy. It was a delicate balance.

Her mother sighed, a deep, resigned sound that made Irene feel a twinge of guilt. "I just don't want you to push everyone away, especially not those who care about you," she said, her eyes searching Irene's face for some sign that she wasn't as cold and distant as she appeared.

But Irene wasnât ready to soften. Not tonight. "I'm fine, Mom. Really. Let me have my space," she said coldly, turning her back on the conversation. "I need to freshen up."

Her mother hesitated, clearly torn between pressing her daughter and respecting her space. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Irene was already walking up the stairs.

"I'm going to bed. I have things to handle tomorrow." Her voice was firm, and there was no room for further discussion.

"Irene..." her mother began softly, but she was met with silence as Irene continued up the stairs without looking back. Her mother watched her go, a mixture of love and concern etched into her features.

Louis remained silent, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he glanced at Irene's retreating figure. There was so much more to her than the icy exterior she showed to the world and even to her mother. But Louis knew better than anyone that breaking through that wall would take time, patience, and perhaps something more.

But for now, he simply let her go.

Irene's mother stood there, a mixture of concern and worry on her face, as she quietly watched her daughter disappear up the stairs. It was clear that tonight was not one of those rare occasions when Irene was willing to let her guard down. The conversation had ended abruptly, leaving her mother standing in the entryway, her heart heavy with unspoken words.

Her mother sighed softly, her hand resting on her chest as she turned back to Louis, who had been silently observing the exchange. Her gaze softened as she looked at him, her voice trembling slightly when she asked, "Louis... I know you care about her. I know you've been there for her all these years. But... is she eating well? Is she taking her medication? Please, tell me she's at least taking care of herself."