Ruby stepped forward, her posture calm, though she could feel the weight of Martha’s eyes on her. Before she could answer, Kaelan spoke, his voice low but steady. "Mom, she is Ruby... Karl’s wife."
At that, Ruby glanced sideways at Kaelan. His eyes lingered on her longer than necessary, filled with emotions she couldn’t quite place.
Martha, however, noticed. She had always been able to read her son too well—his silence, his gaze, the subtle shifts in his expression. And in that moment, she saw it clearly: the way his eyes softened when they landed on Ruby, the way his composure slipped just slightly. So... after Emma, he’s found someone again, she thought, a quiet warmth blooming in her chest.
For Martha, seeing her son fall in love again—after all the hurt he had carried—was nothing short of a relief. She masked her realization with a polite smile, but inside, she was glad.
Because for the first time in a long while, Kaelan’s heart seemed to be alive again.
After the brief introductions, Martha’s sharp eyes settled back on Ruby, and her curiosity lit up almost immediately. She sat down again, patting the bed beside her as if inviting Ruby closer, her golden hair gleaming in the light of the lamp.
"So, tell me, Ruby," Martha began smoothly, her voice polite but carrying that piercing edge only mothers had, "what do you do?"
Ruby straightened her back and answered calmly, her tone warm but steady. "I own a brand called ORA. It’s a clothing line, focused on robes and seasonal wear."
At that, Martha’s eyes sparkled with genuine surprise. "Ora Robe? I know that brand. In fact, I am wearing one of your pieces right now." She gestured at her sleeve with a proud little smile. "I had wondered about the designer behind it. I must say, I’m impressed."
Ruby’s lips curved, her cheeks coloring just slightly at the unexpected compliment. "Thank you. It means a lot to hear that from you."
Martha nodded approvingly, then leaned in a little, her questions flowing without pause. "And what are your plans for the future? Surely a brand like yours will keep growing."
Ruby folded her hands together, her smile returning with quiet determination. "Yes, I do want to expand. My goal is to step into other sectors as well—tech, games, development. I want to build something larger than just clothing, something that can last for generations."
"Ambitious," Martha said with a thoughtful hum, her eyes gleaming with approval. "I like that."
Then, without hesitation, she asked the next question. "And how many husbands do you have, dear?"
Ruby blinked at the sudden shift but answered honestly, her voice carrying no hesitation. "I have four. Julian, Adrian, Karl, and Milo."
At this, Karl grinned proudly in the background, nodding as though Ruby had just announced a great achievement.
Martha, however, seemed utterly delighted, nodding as if she were inaugurating Ruby like some honored guest. "Four husbands," she repeated, a small laugh escaping her lips. "How interesting."
Kaelan’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled slowly, pressing his palm to his temple. Of course Mother would treat this like some grand announcement, he thought bitterly. The way she smiled at Ruby, asking questions like she was evaluating a daughter-in-law, made his chest twist uncomfortably.
He avoided Ruby’s gaze entirely, embarrassed beyond words, while Martha continued chatting with Ruby as if she were already part of their family.
Ruby laughed lightly, sensing the way Kaelan’s shoulders were stiffening under his mother’s endless questions. "Haha... Kaelan, you can have time with your family without using us as interpretation," she said kindly, though her smile held a teasing edge. "We are actually going out..."
Kaelan’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly, the faintest hint of disappointment flashing in his eyes. He had hoped they might stay a little longer, if only to ease the awkwardness between him and his parents.
Karl, however, was already halfway to the door, nodding eagerly. "Yeah, yeah—Kaelan, enjoy family time!" He said cheerfully, reaching for the small emergency bag he always kept packed, since for shoots they often had to leave on short notice to travel.
Ruby caught his readiness and shook her head with an amused smile. Karl, as usual, was unpredictable.
Before stepping out, Karl flashed his brightest grin at Martha and Loren, bowing his head slightly with exaggerated politeness. "It was very nice to meet you, Beautiful Sister and Handsome Brother!" he declared, making Kaelan bury his face in his palm while his parents chuckled softly at his antics.
Ruby gave a graceful nod to them both before following Karl out. The door closed behind them..
"Wife, where are we going? This wasn’t in the plan, right?" Karl asked, trotting beside Ruby as he adjusted the strap of his emergency bag. His brows furrowed, though his tone was more curious than worried. "But... Kaelan deserves time with his parents! He told me once that his mom is always busy with business matters, always traveling, so they don’t spend much time together. That’s why I didn’t want to disturb them."
Ruby glanced at him, her lips curving into a smile. "Yeah, you’re right. Looks like we did a good thing by leaving. And we’re going to the hotel I booked—for me."
Karl blinked at her, then immediately pulled his best pout. "Did you book for me too??"
Ruby chuckled, shaking her head. "No! I didn’t know you’d be tagging along. But anyway—you’re my husband. What’s wrong with staying with me? Last time you scammed yourself into a kidnapping, so I’m definitely not letting you wander off alone again." Her voice firmed at the end, her eyes narrowing playfully.
Karl gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh no, Wife, I’ve changed!" he declared, giving her his most innocent grin.
Ruby arched her brow, her chuckle soft. "I do not believe you."
Karl’s pout deepened, his shoulders drooping as he looked at her with exaggerated puppy eyes. "Wife, you wound me... truly."
Ruby laughed, shaking her head at his antics, but inside, she was relieved—relieved that even in all the chaos, Karl could still make her smile so easily.
To be continued... 🪄