The good girl

Lyon

Alicia, that girl, often intentionally irritates me, as if she is fully aware of what bothers me the most. This is becoming increasingly problematic, as I find myself becoming quite vulnerable to her influence. Is it merely a sense of possession I feel towards her? I had promised myself not to fall in love again, so perhaps it is just a fleeting emotion.

At that moment, my phone rang, and it was my mother. I smiled as I answered, "Hello, beautiful. I was wondering why you were calling me today." I teased her lightly. "Are you implying that I cannot call my own son?" she replied, engaging in the playful banter. "No, Mom, you absolutely have the right to call your son," I responded. After a brief silence, I anticipated the direction of our conversation. "Lyon, when are you going to get married?" I had expected this question. "Mom, I have already told you that marriage is not on my agenda," I replied, as she had been persistently inquiring about it for some time. "Lyon, even if you do not fall in love, at least consider getting married and giving me grandchildren. Since your father passed away, life has become rather dull for me."

Her constant pressure regarding marriage was starting to give me a headache. I sighed, "Lyon, dear, why don't you come home today? I would like to introduce you to a lovely girl from a prestigious family; she would make an excellent wife." Here we go again with her relentless matchmaking. "Who have you arranged for me this time?" I asked. "Oh, Lyon, it's the Camille family. Their beautiful daughter, Julia, is someone I know you will find appealing when you meet her," she replied. I took a deep breath and said, "But Mom, what if I told you I am already seeing someone?" Her excitement was palpable as she asked, "You do? What family does she come from? Tell me about her, Lyon." I braced myself for her disappointment when she learns that the person I am involved with does not come from a wealthy background.

I need to tell her, "She's a lovely person from a modest background, so could you please stop bringing up this marriage talk?" Honestly, I'm exhausted. "A modest family means she's not really in our social circle. I'm not sure about this. Just come home today; I've invited them over." The only way to put an end to her antics is to agree to visit, but I really don't want to deal with that person my mother wants to force on me—what's her name again? "Alright, Mom, I'll be home. Is that alright?" I asked, and she sounded thrilled. "Yes, Lyon, I'll be waiting for you. Love you, son." I smiled and replied, "Love you too, Mom."

After the call, I texted Alicia, saying, "I won't be going to the penthouse today; my mom wants me around." I set my phone down, and she replied with a simple "okay." Just an "okay"? Then another message popped up: "Um, our department has organized a night outing with another branch of your company today, so I'll be attending." Oh, I had heard about that. I texted back, "Have fun, then." Here I was, feeling guilty for not going home with her, unaware that she had her own plans.

I know I like her; in fact, she's the only woman I've ever liked. But love? I'm not so sure. When I first saw Alicia, if someone had told me I'd develop feelings for her, I would have laughed. Yet here I am, completely smitten, and I chuckle to myself.

Before the workday ended, I headed to my family home. The staff was already outside to greet me, and the butler took my coat. I went straight to my mother, who was in the garden, sitting gracefully while sipping her afternoon tea. She's undoubtedly lonely since my father passed away six years ago. I really want to give her grandchildren. My mind wandered to the thought of Alicia being pregnant; she would look beautiful. What am I even thinking?

My mother noticed my arrival, and her face brightened as she rose to embrace me. "Thank you for coming, Lyon. I missed you. The Camilles will arrive in the evening, but at least I have you to myself for now." I kissed her cheek and replied, "Forget about the Camilles for the moment, Mom, and concentrate on your son." She laughed. Although I am not my mother's only child, as I have a younger sister, I find it interesting that after my birth, it took my mother fifteen years to conceive again through IVF. My sister is currently overseas for her business, and I often wonder why my mother does not urge her to consider marriage.

After our conversation, I made my way to my room to rest and prepare for the guests we were expecting. Since it was already the end of the workday, Alicia would be at home getting ready for the evening's outing.

It was evening when our guests arrived: an older woman whom I had occasionally seen with my mother, accompanied by a much younger lady. Both wore broad smiles. To be honest, the younger woman was quite attractive, yet I found myself lacking any inclination towards her. I regretted the thought of disappointing my mother regarding her vision of an ideal wife for me. "Welcome, Mrs. Camille and Miss Camille," I greeted them. The older woman responded with confidence, "It is a pleasure to see you, Mr. Bernard." The younger one appeared rather timid, avoiding eye contact, which I found endearing. This was in stark contrast to Alicia, who never shied away from anyone or anything.

We proceeded to the dining area where the meal was served. My family is known for producing some of the finest wine. Although my father has passed away and I now run my own company, several family members, including my sister, uncle, and aunt, manage the family business. My father, being the eldest, inherited the CEO position from his father upon his death. I was expected to take over the business, but my aspirations lay elsewhere; I desired to forge my own path and establish my own identity. "Um, Julia," my mother interjected, revealing her name, "how are you enjoying your meal?" "It's delicious, ma'am," the younger lady, the one named, what's her name again? replied shyly.

This dinner lacks excitement, and I yearn to leave this place. "Let me get straight to the point regarding why I invited you, Mrs. Camille," my mother states cheerfully, "it's because I want my son to..." At that moment, my phone buzzed, diverting my mother's attention from her tedious monologue. "I apologize for the interruption," I said while glancing at my phone. It appeared that photos had been taken and shared in the company's group chat. Just as I was about to silence my phone and tuck it away, I hesitated.

What is going on? I recognize that individual. "Is everything alright, Lyon?" my mother inquired. No, everything is far from alright; Alicia was seen close to that man at the last party, and he had his hand on her waist—an act that infuriates me. "No, Mom, everything is not alright. I'm sorry, but I must leave right now," I replied as I stood up. "But Lyon, we have..." I interrupted her, stating, "This matter is more important than our guests." I realized that my words may have sounded harsh. "I apologize for my abrupt departure, but please enjoy your evening," I said, kissing my bewildered mother on the cheek as I rushed out.

Alicia is with another man, and my heart races in my chest. Why do I feel this way when I see her with someone else? This girl is driving me to the brink.