Uncle's Dirty Little Secret

Seraphina’s POV

“You still want this, right?” Adrian’s voice is soft and almost careful as he looks at me across the car console. His hand is already on mine, with his thumb brushing slowly over my knuckles.

I meet his eyes. “Of course I do.”

He doesn't look away. “I mean all of it. The wedding… The life after and not just the party.”

I squeeze his hand lightly. “I know what you mean. And yes… I still want it.”

A small smile finally touches his lips. “Good.” He turns his attention back to the road and pulls into traffic.

The afternoon heat still clings to my skin from the short walk out of the clinic. The leather seat is warm beneath my legs, and the car smells faintly of his cologne, the same clean scent he has worn since we started dating.

I had barely pushed the clinic door open with my shoulder when I saw him waiting beside the car, with a stack of patient files balanced against my chest, and I was already trying to figure out how I would open the passenger door without dropping them.

Adrian had laughed the moment he saw me. “You always do this.”

“What’s that?”

"Carrying half of the clinic home with you.” Before I could answer, he took the files from my arms, and then he placed them carefully on the back seat. “You're welcome.”

“I was managing.”

“More like you were struggling.”

My lips gave way to smiles as I watched him close the back door and looked at me with that familiar smile. I had rolled my eyes before getting into the car.

Now I’m watching the city move past the windows. Adrian's hand returns to mine for a moment before he needs it for the steering wheel.

“Three more days until the party,” he says.

“I know, right? "I beam with a smile.

“Then it will be official.”

I smile. “It's already official.”

“Not to my family.”

I laugh softly. “Your family knows we're engaged.”

“Yeah … my mother knows. And Darius knows also. "He pauses. “But that doesn't mean they won't still find a reason to turn the party into a full production.”

I turn toward him. “Darius has been calling me about the guest list all week. He even asked whether my clinic supervisor was coming.”

Adrian bursts into a laugh. “Why would he care?”

“I don't know. Maybe he thinks everyone we've ever met needs an invitation.”

“That sounds more like him.”

I settle deeper into my seat. And for a few seconds, neither of us says anything.

Then Adrian glances at me. “You've been quieter than usual this week.”

I look at him. “Have I?”

“Yes.”

“I'm just tired.”

“You've said that three times.”

"Because I've been tired three times," I reply, smiling as I lock my eyes with his profile.

He doesn't laugh. Instead, he watches the road for a moment before speaking again. “Is something bothering you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Sera.”

I turn my head toward him, giving him attention.

He continues, “You don't have to tell me everything at once. But if something is wrong, I want to know.”

There is no accusation in his voice but only concern, as I study his face.

“I promise I'm fine.”

He gives me a doubtful look.

“The clinic has been busy,” I explain. “Plus Mrs. Patel needed extra time today, and I had two students asking me questions about their research. Then there’s Darius, who started calling about the party.”

“Alright,” he continues, "besides, I don't want you worrying about every little detail he says or asks.”

“It's our engagement party.”

“Exactly. Ours and not Darius's.”

“He's just trying to help, being that I’m his daughter.”

“I know. I just don't want you to feel like you're doing this for him. Or for my parents. Or because everyone expects us to get married.”

The traffic light turns red, and he pulls the car to a stop.

His hand settles over mine again as he says gently, “You're allowed to change your mind."

I stare at him in disbelief, “Adrian…”

“I mean it. If you ever wake up and decide that this life isn't what you want, you tell me. You shouldn’t stay because you're afraid of disappointing me.”

Something tightens in my chest with the way he said it.

I turn my hand under his and lace my fingers through his. “I don't want to change my mind.” His eyes meet mine as I add, “I want this relationship and nobody is forcing me to do this.”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Good.”

The light turns green, and he starts driving again.

I look down at our joined hands; I've always liked the way Adrian makes things feel simple. Even when he's worried, he doesn't push. He asks, waits, and gives me room to answer.

Maybe that's why I feel so certain when I'm with him.

“I was thinking,” he says after a while.

“That sounds dangerous," I comment, giving a soft laugh. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that after the party, we could go away for a weekend.”

“Where?” I ask, turning my face towards him briefly.

“I haven't decided on that.”

“So you don't actually have a plan.”

“I have a plan. But the location is still under investigation.” His lips draw into a smile as he adds, “Just somewhere quiet with no family, no guest lists, and no phone calls from Darius.”

“That last part sounds tempting.”

The car slows as we approach another intersection. I take a brief look at him and feel that familiar warmth settle in my chest.

Three more days…

Then our families will gather, we will celebrate our engagement, and everything will move one step closer to the life we've talked about so many times. A home… A wedding… and a future.

I rest my head against the seat and close my eyes for a moment, letting myself believe it will stay that way for a moment.

Seraphina's POV (the next day)

My phone rings while I’m still sorting notes out at the kitchen table. Darius’s name lights up the screen, and I answer on the second ring.

“Seraphina.” Darius's voice calls out almost immediately I place the phone in my ear.

“Hi …”

“Have you spoken to Adrian about the seating chart?” His voice is calm, but I can hear the list already forming in his head. “The Morettis are bringing twelve people. And we need to make sure they’re placed correctly.”

I press the pen in my hand against the paper. “Adrian said he’d handle the final list.”

“He always says that. You should check with him tonight because I don’t want any mistakes on Friday.”

“I will do that.”

“Good. And wear the ivory silk dress, the one I had ordered for you. It photographs your image well as the newest member of the Morettis.”

I look down at the open notebook in front of me an