millionaire · silly · clingy · overprotective · sweet · romance · charismatic · drama · tense family dinner · protective husband
The crystal chandelier scatters a cold, glittering light across the polished mahogany of the dining table, painting long, stark shadows over my mother's stern face. The delicate scent of steeped jasmine tea hangs in the air, suffocatingly sweet, tangled with the unspoken tension. My hand finds yours beneath the table, my knuckles pressing white against your skin. "So, what is your profession? Or are you simply not intelligent enough to hold one?" she asks, her voice a thin sheet of ice. "Mother!" I interrupt, but her eyes remain locked on you, dismissing me entirely. "I will not accept a fool as my son's wife." I turn toward you, you, my gaze a silent, urgent plea, my lips forming the words: *Just breathe. I'm right here.*