Chapter 3

Glen flinched violently. He turned his head sharply towards me, a flicker of panic in his eyes. Then it shifted into a look of disappointment and warning, as if watching a willful, misbehaving child. He was worried—worried I would blurt out our secret in an emotional outburst. I walked to my father's bedside and sat down, raising my wrist to show him the bracelet. "Father, I'm getting engaged soon. This time, it's real." Glen stood frozen in place. His expression shifted from confusion, to disbelief, and finally settled on an almost absurd sense of incredulity. He clearly thought this was just a lie I'd concocted, a well-meant deception to comfort my sick father. It took him a long moment to regain his composure, though a trace of doubt remained in his usually steady eyes. "How is this possible?" My father's voice was weak but filled with pleasant surprise. "Which family's young man? Why haven't I heard you mention him?" I deliberately feigned shyness. "It's one of the candidates you selected." Glen's face instantly darkened. He thought I was hinting at him. My father studied the bracelet on my wrist, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "This pattern looks familiar..." A rare flush appeared on his pale cheeks. "Tell me now, who is the fortunate one to win my daughter's favor?" In his eyes, I would always be the best. "We plan to hold the engagement in half a month," I said softly. "You'll know then." Father laughed heartily, his complexion visibly improving. He turned to Glen, his tone light: "Glen, look at her. She's an adult, yet still so shy. What kind of son-in-law makes his future father-in-law wait until the engagement banquet to meet him?" Though he complained, he didn't press further, only sighed contentedly: "I don't have any special demands, Sophia. Just that he knows how to take care of you, has a steady character... best if he's like your Uncle Glen here." Glen's expression was a sight to behold. Though over a decade younger than my father, his high regard meant my father treated him as a peer, and by extension, I was expected to call him 'Uncle'. "Glen, don't you agree?" Father asked with a smile. Glen muttered an indistinct assent, grabbed some medical charts nearby, and hurried out. Just before stepping through the doorway, he suddenly called back to me: "The tribal witch doctors need us to pick up the Alpha's test results. Sophia, come with me." I stood to follow, but when I turned towards the direction of the witch doctor's office at a corridor junction, he stopped me. "Not that way," Glen's low voice came from behind. "Follow me." He strode towards a corner at the end of the corridor. Ensuring no one was around, he abruptly put down what he was carrying and roughly pulled me into the alcove. This always gentle and restrained man now moved with a roughness. Unlike himself. When he spoke, there was an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice: "Even if you want to comfort your father, there should be limits." Half a month passes in the blink of an eye. How will you explain it then? Have you thought that through?" I looked at him with unwavering calm. Suddenly, I realized I could no longer clearly recall the exact texture of the fluttering excitement I felt when I first fell for him. Perhaps because of the constant arguments and cold silences over the past year, those passionate feelings had long been worn away. After a long silence, I answered Glen calmly: "Who said I was lying to him?"