Claire’s heels clicked lightly against the marble steps of the Saint Laurent mansion as she approached the grand front door. The sprawling estate was illuminated by the warm glow of lights, and the faint hum of laughter and conversation floated through the air.
As always, the mansion exuded an elegance that felt both inviting and overwhelming. But tonight, Claire was determined to leave her worries behind, even if just for a few hours.
The double doors swung open, and Adrian stood there, his smile lighting up the night. He looked effortlessly handsome in a dark suit, his hair perfectly styled, and his eyes full of warmth. Before she could say a word, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
“Hey,” he murmured against her lips, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You look stunning, Claire.”
She smiled, her tension easing a bit. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He chuckled and took her hand, leading her inside. “Thank you, I tried.” He gave her a wink that made Claire blush. The warmth of his grip and the sparkle in his eyes made her feel like, for once, everything might just be okay.
The moment they stepped into the foyer, Adriana’s cheerful voice rang out. “Claire!”
Claire turned just in time to see Adriana, Adrian’s mother, approach with open arms. They shared a genuine hug, and Claire felt a surge of comfort in the familiar warmth of Adriana’s embrace.
“It’s been too long,” Adriana said, pulling back slightly to get a better look at Claire. Her eyes softened with concern. “How are you, dear?”
“I’m doing fine,” Claire replied with a practiced smile. It was her default answer, but tonight, it felt less like a lie.
Adriana’s gaze was sharp and motherly. “You seem to have lost weight, though.”
Claire’s smile faltered slightly, but she brushed it off with a casual shrug. “Work has been demanding lately.”
Adriana frowned lightly. “Well, make sure you’re eating enough. You can’t run the world on an empty stomach.”
Claire nodded. “I’ll try. Thank you, Adriana.”
“You better,” Adriana said with a warm grin, looping her arm through Claire’s. “Come on, let’s go join the others before the food gets cold.”
The dining room was a vision of classic elegance. A long, mahogany table was set with fine China, crystal glasses, and an abundance of traditional Thanksgiving dishes. The golden glow of the chandelier above cast a cozy warmth over the room, and the scents of roasted turkey, buttery mashed potatoes, and spiced pumpkin pie filled the air.
Mr. Saint Laurent, Adrian’s grandfather, descended the staircase with the kind of dignified grace that only came with age and experience. His eyes twinkled as he approached Claire.
“Ah, Claire, my dear,” he greeted, his deep voice warm and welcoming. “It’s always a pleasure to have you here.”
“Thank you, Mr. Saint Laurent,” she replied with a respectful nod, a genuine smile curving her lips.
“None of that ‘Mr.’ nonsense tonight,” he teased, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Call me Richard.”
“Alright, Richard,” she said, a soft chuckle escaping her.
Charles Saint Laurent, Adrian’s father, followed closely behind, offering Claire a kind smile. “We’re glad you could join us, Claire. Adrian’s been looking forward to this all week.”
“Me too,” she admitted, glancing at Adrian, who squeezed her hand reassuringly.
As they all settled around the dinner table, Claire felt the warmth of the Saint Laurent family wrap around her like a comforting blanket. The table buzzed with cheerful conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. For the first time in what felt like forever, Claire let herself relax.
Midway through dinner, Richard cleared his throat, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he turned his attention to Adrian.
“So, Adrian,” he said, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Are you going to tell us how serious things are with this lovely young lady?”
Adrian chuckled, but his cheeks flushed slightly. “Grandfather, you’re putting us on the spot.”
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