Chapter Thirty-Eight: Meeting the Mother
(Ria's POV)
I wasn't sure if I was going to puke or faint as Miles drove us through the quiet streets. My hands gripped my bag tightly in my lap, stomach flipping every time I glanced at him.
"You're way too quiet," he said, eyes on the road. "Nervous?"
I groaned. "A little. Okay, maybe a lot. You're about to meet your mom and tell her we… we want to get married. And it's me. Threads. The girl you call Threads. This is insane."
He smirked, one hand on the wheel, the other brushing my fingers in a teasing, grounding gesture. "Insane? Definitely. But you? Totally worth it."
I swallowed. "Worth it, sure. But… what if she hates me? Or thinks I'm crazy? Or tells you to run?"
He laughed softly. "Then I'll run… nowhere. I'm not going anywhere. Threads… just breathe. I've got this."
When we arrived at his house, I felt my legs weaken. His mom was sitting in the living room, knitting, with that soft, careful expression she always had — the one that made me feel immediately both guilty and welcomed.
"Mom," Miles said, walking confidently up to her. "This is… important."
I shuffled forward, head down. "Hi, Mrs. Patel," I whispered, voice trembling.
She looked up, eyes bright. "Ria! Oh… hi long time no see."
I blushed. "Yes, ma'am. I… I just—"
Miles stepped in smoothly. "Mom, Threads and I… we want to be together. I mean, really together. And, well… we're thinking about marriage. Soon."
I almost fainted right there. Miles had said it! Out loud! And now all eyes were on me.
His mom put down her knitting and studied me carefully. "I see…" she said softly. "And you… want this too, Ria?"
I nodded so hard I thought my head might roll off. "Yes! I mean… absolutely. I love him, and I… I just… I couldn't let someone else decide for me, and—"
Miles squeezed my hand under the table. "Threads," he said gently, "breathe. You're fine."
I took a shaky breath. "I… I just really want to marry him. And he… he wants to marry me."
His mom chuckled softly, shaking her head, a playful twinkle in her eyes. "You two are dramatic, I see that already. Miles, you better not scare her away."
"I would never," he said, voice low, possessive. "She's mine."
Her eyes flicked to me, then back to him. "Is she really the one you want, Miles? Really sure?"
He reached over, brushing my hair back gently, holding my chin so our eyes met. "Mom… she's the only one. Only Threads. I won't let anyone else take her. Not now, not ever."
I felt my heart skip. He always called me Threads like that — just me and him, a secret nickname that made my insides melt.
She smiled, shaking her head, clearly amused. "Well… in that case, I can see why you're so persistent. Alright. You've both got my blessing to… plan, talk, decide. Just don't do anything crazy without letting me know."
Miles grinned. "Yes, ma'am. We'll be responsible."
I breathed out, finally letting some of my panic slip away. "Thank you," I whispered. "Really. Thank you for… understanding."
His mom reached over and patted my hand. "I can see he adores you. And you him. That's a good start."
As we left, I felt like I might finally be able to breathe again. Miles walked beside me, holding my hand tightly. "See?" he said, smirking. "Nothing to worry about."
I laughed weakly. "Yeah, but… what if my parents still freak out?"
He leaned down, voice low, brushing his lips near my ear. "Then we deal with it. Together. Always."
I melted into him for a second, letting his confidence become mine, imagining the storm of my parents' reaction and knowing he'd stand with me no matter what.
As we walked back to the car, I realized… somehow, even with all the panic, all the nerves, all the looming chaos, I felt safe. Protected. Loved. And entirely, completely his.