Perhaps it began in childhood, with her constant neglect, humiliation, and beatings. Whatever love had existed between them had been worn away, until all that was left was this aversion.
Emma, oblivious to her son’s coldness, spoke with an air of authority. “Since you’re not at the office today, you don’t need to go in. I’ve prepared some gifts. You’re coming with me to the Porter family to formally discuss your engagement.”
She had arranged the engagement on his behalf, but there had been no follow-up from Finnian’s side. Jenny and Ethan Porter had been dropping not-so-subtle hints, and Emma was growing both irritated and embarrassed. That’s why she had been pressuring Finnian relentlessly.
Finnian shot her a cold look. “*You* went to the Porters to arrange an engagement, not me. If you want to go, go by yourself.”
His tone was so disrespectful that Emma’s eyes widened in fury. She slammed her hand on the table. “When did you become such a disobedient brat? You don’t listen to a word I say!”
Finnian stared at her, his gaze like ice.
After a long silence, his lips parted, and he spoke, each word sharp and deliberate. “How many times have I told you I am not getting married? Yet you went against my wishes and arranged this with the Porters. What do you expect me to do?”
His words sent Emma into a rage. She launched into a tirade—“How can you not get married? Every normal person gets married!” and “You’re such a disappointment!”—but Finnian just sat there with a cold, impassive face, as if he couldn’t hear her at all.
Her son was nearly thirty, long past the age of obeying his mother. At well over six feet tall, she couldn't physically force him, and her scolding fell on deaf ears. Emma was at her wit’s end.
After leaving Finnian’s apartment, Emma racked her brain, still unable to comprehend why a man in the prime of his life would refuse to marry.
In her world, men were eager to marry. They wanted a beautiful wife to manage the household and give them children to dote on in their old age. Wasn’t that the definition of a complete life?
So, she left her car with Elysia, who promised to have it sent over later, and opted to fly to Zion instead.
Amara took a taxi to the airport.
As she watched the city blur past her window, her thoughts drifted to Finnian, wondering where he was now. A pang of sadness cut through her, but it was quickly followed by a sense of relief.
The drive from the city to the airport took only thirty minutes. Soon, Amara got out of the car and headed inside with her suitcase.
As she was walking through a dimly lit corridor, a tall man wearing sunglasses suddenly stepped in front of her. He leaned in and spoke in a low voice, “Excuse me, miss, I’m looking for directions. Do you know how to get to…?”

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