Chapter 1
April is a comfortable month, not too cold and not too hot. Today’s weather is pleasant with a warm sun shining down, but Eleanor Goodwin isn’t in a good mood. The design proposal she submitted yesterday came back this morning, and the only feedback from her supervisor was a terse, “Revise!” There were no specifics on what needed changing, leaving her frustrated and confused. Eleanor put down her pen and sketches, pressing her hands against her temples as she leaned back in her chair. Just then, her phone buzzed on the desk, and she glanced at the screen to see Zachary’s name flashing. She didn’t want to pick up, but it seemed unavoidable. Taking a few deep breaths, she reluctantly answered, “Mother.” “Meet Arthur Finch tonight at seven at the Grand Harmony Inn, Table 2,” her mother, Adelaide Finch, rushed through the details without pause. “He’s 31, a college grad, civil servant, owns his own place and car, stands 5’8”, has no bad habits—doesn't smoke or drink." “Mother…” Eleanor extended the syllable, almost exasperated. Her mother’s relentless matchmaking had left her worn-out. It was day seven, and every day her mother pushed a new prospect on her, each time more baffling than the last. Where did she find all these men? “Eleanor!” Adelaide sighed heavily, sensing her daughter's resistance. “You’re 28, not 18. You don’t have many years left to choose. If you wait too long, it’ll be hard for anyone to pick you. Besides, I’m almost sixty and want to help with your future kids before I can’t anymore. If you keep dragging this out, I won’t be able to keep up!” Listening to her mother, Eleanor could recite these lines by heart; they had become a daily mantra. She interrupted, “Fine, I’ll be there at seven.” “Good! After work, make sure to freshen up. This is a suggestion from your Aunt Margaret. If it goes well, consider it a potential match,” Adelaide added, the hidden hope in her tone clear. “Okay! I’ve got some drawings I need to finish, so I’ll call you later. I promise I’ll make it on time.” With that, she quickly hung up, letting out a long sigh. Just as she felt her frustration receding, the phone buzzed again, startling her. Seeing the caller ID, she answered sharply, “You better not say you’re calling about a blind date too!” “Eleanor, you should congratulate me—I’m getting married!” Clara Finch, her college best friend, shouted through the phone. Eleanor blinked in surprise before bursting into laughter. “Wait, did Percival finally put a ring on it? I can’t believe it!” Clara beamed over the line. “Yes! We’re shooting wedding photos the day after tomorrow and the ceremony is next month. Mark your calendar for the 5th—you're my maid of honor!” “That’s so fast!” Eleanor calculated. She had less than a month to prepare. “Life is too short, right? Just think about this: You’ll get to wear a beautiful dress, and I’ll need your support!” Clara continued with excitement. As Eleanor hung up, she felt the tension in her chest ease a little. Maybe tonight could turn into something more than just her mother’s matchmaking scheme. Maybe dinner could lead to a real conversation and a spark of connection. After all, April was a month of hope and warmth, and who knows what might blossom?
Chapter 2
“Uh, I’m pregnant,” Clara Finch said, her voice bouncing with excitement as she spoke into the phone. “You know, Percival Wright said that since next month is the Lunar April, if I don’t get married by then, I’ll have to wait until August. And there’s no way I can wait that long! By then, Zachary will be the size of a house!” “You’re pregnant!” Ericleanor gasped, her tone rising in disbelief. “Shh, keep your voice down,” Clara chided lightly, placing a hand on her stomach. “I’m pregnant, remember? I can’t handle too much excitement.” Ericleanor sighed, feeling a mix of joy and melancholy. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a mother now.” “Yeah, I’m going to be a mother.” Clara paused, her voice taking on a teasing tone. “And what about you? Still no plans to find someone? At this rate, you’ll never settle down! You could at least get into a relationship with someone from HR.” Ericleanor hesitated, knowing this was a topic they’d gone over multiple times before. “I… I still have blueprints to finish,” she stammered, feeling an eager rush of embarrassment flood her cheeks. She quickly hung up the phone, avoiding any further discussion. The image of her boss’s face, his look of guilt and regret from years ago, lingered with her. Despite wanting to hate him, she found it impossible to let go of the feelings that had surfaced so frequently over the years. Trying to shake off her discontent, she picked up her sketchpad and pencil, instinctively altering the designs on the sheet before her. She was trying to coax her wandering thoughts back into focus. At 6:55 PM, Ericleanor parked her Chevy in front of the Noble Inn, the car she had purchased last year with her guild bonus. She had never been good with anything mechanical; cars and machinery always felt foreign to her. Thus, she often opted to draw everything by hand rather than use software. With her boss’s concern for her professional growth, she spent long hours sketching designs in her office or inspecting construction sites, which made having a vehicle quite convenient. Nevertheless, learning to drive had consumed an ample amount of her time and energy. Before stepping out of the car, she retrieved a small makeup mirror from her bag, scrutinizing her reflection. She despised the inevitable blind dates; pretending to enjoy polite conversation with someone totally unfamiliar was exhausting. Still, she donned a serious look that signaled her determination to approach the night’s meeting earnestly. Upon entering the Noble Inn, she was led by a waiter to a table where her date had already arrived. He was seated straight-backed, wearing glasses, and had a nondescript appearance—neither handsome nor unattractive. As she approached, he stood up and extended his hand, albeit a bit stiffly. “Miss Goodwin? I’m Arthur Finch.” “Eleanor Goodwin,” she replied, shaking his hand before taking a seat across from him. Arthur handed her the drink menu, primarily filled with various coffees and teas. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “A caramel macchiato would be perfect,” she replied, craving something sweet yet flavorful. She preferred her coffee on the sweeter side, which made it the only viable option. Arthur ordered a cappuccino, then returned the menu to the waitress. Eleanor bit her lower lip. She realized she hadn’t eaten dinner yet and was initially planning to order food, but seeing his disinterest in any meal requests, she stayed quiet, feeling awkward about making the first move.
Chapter 3
"Miss Goodwin, what do you do for a living?" Arthur Finch was the first to break the silence as steaming mugs of coffee were placed before them. "I’m in construction. Currently, I work at Honest Construction," Eleanor Goodwin replied, taking a sip from her cup. Arthur nodded, visibly intrigued. "Construction? Isn’t that a bit exhausting? I mean, not many women go into that." Eleanor chuckled softly. "It's a specialized field, so switching careers isn't easy. I've been busy with revisions all afternoon and didn’t even have time for lunch this morning. I’m really starving." Arthur seemed satisfied with her response, but he couldn’t help but notice that at her age, it was unusual for women with good prospects to still be single. "You have a great background, Miss Goodwin. Why are you still unmarried at this age? Are your standards too high?" "No, not at all. It's just that I've been swamped with work all the time. Before I knew it, here I am at this age without a partner." Eleanor shrugged in an attempt to dismiss the matter. Arthur smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Honestly, I don’t have too many requirements for a wife. A stable job is fine, and she needs to keep the home tidy. My parents have taken care of me for so long, and they're getting older now. It’s only fair that we take care of them in return. After we get married, it’s best if we manage our finances together under my mom’s supervision. We don’t spend much beyond food and living at home. If we need something, we can ask my folks for help, right?" Eleanor offered a dry laugh and fell silent. After all, this was their first meeting, and he was already laying out future plans. Was it really necessary to dive into such deep discussions already? "My mom has mobility issues, so after we marry, you might have to handle all the household chores. It won’t be too strenuous—it’s just cooking, cleaning, and laundry. I promise I’ll help when I can,” Arthur continued, oblivious to Eleanor’s discomfort. "Uh, excuse me," Eleanor interjected, raising her empty cup in front of her. "Can I get a refill?" Arthur glanced at her and nodded, signaling for the waitress. Jane, with a bright smile, arrived swiftly. "How can I assist you today?" "Could we please get a refill on her coffee?" Arthur gestured toward Eleanor’s empty cup. "Sorry, sir, but we aren't able to refill coffee," Jane replied, maintaining a professional smile. Arthur frowned, contemplating for a moment before asking, "What about plain water? Is that free?" Jane hesitated for a brief second and then smiled again. "Um, yes, tap water is complimentary." "Then could we have a glass of water, please?" Arthur replied. Eleanor stifled a laugh as she watched Jane’s lips twitch ever so slightly; this date had taken a rather absurd turn. After a while, Eleanor finished her glass of water, but Arthur still hadn’t stopped sharing his detailed expectations of a wife he had yet to meet. Seizing the excuse to escape, she claimed she needed to use the restroom but actually called her sister for help. Upon returning to the table, her phone buzzed almost immediately with Clara calling back. She expertly sidestepped the conversation, citing an urgent work issue at Honest Construction and needing to leave. Arthur nodded in understanding and signalled Jane for the check.
Chapter 4
Eleanor Goodwin certainly wouldn't have lingered at the Grand Harmony Inn if she had known how the evening would unfold. She had expected her date, Boy Oliver, to be flighty and inexperienced, but she couldn't have predicted that he would pull out a coffee voucher to pay for their meal, leaving them with only a $5 tip for the waitress. As they exited the restaurant under the derisive gaze of Theodora, Eleanor felt a sinking disappointment. Unbeknownst to her, two boys sitting at a table nearby had witnessed the entire cringeworthy date unfold. One of them, with a sarcastic glint in his eye, clutched his stomach and laughed uncontrollably. He nudged his companion, Sebastian Reid, who had been quietly examining his phone. "I feel kind of sorry for that poor girl," he chuckled. Sebastian shot him a quick glance, a wry smile creeping onto his lips, but stayed silent, focusing back on his screen. He had seen that waitress before, just yesterday at another café; she had been on some weird date herself. Feeling a sense of defeat, Eleanor returned home. Her stomach growled in protest, but her appetite had vanished, replaced by the embarrassment of the evening. Today, she had learned that the "perfect gentleman" she had seen on television was purely a fantasy—life was much more unpredictable. As she stepped through the door, she found her mother, Lady Finch, sitting in the Great Hall, absorbed in a show on television. A stack of papers lay on the coffee table—an overview of the family's finances. "Mother Beatrice!" Eleanor called out with a sigh, her nerves already on edge. Over the past few nights, she had felt her mother's scrutiny ramping up, and she braced herself for yet another round of questioning. Goodwin Manor was a modest home, hardly suitable for the grandeur Eleanor had daydreamed about. She lived here with her parents, Lord Goodwin and Lady Finch, who worked as accountants at a local firm. They were never too busy, and their evenings often stretched on in predictable repetition. Lady Finch had once been a stunning beauty in her youth, but now, nearing fifty, she had aged gracefully. Her demeanor was calm, exuding quiet elegance that belied her years. Eleanor's father, Lord Goodwin, was a well-respected high school English teacher with over thirty years of experience, known for his dedication to his students and loved by parents and kids alike. Eleanor plopped down beside her mother, who immmediately switched off the TV and fixed her with a penetrating gaze. "Come here, I need to ask you something." Feeling a sudden tightness in her chest, Eleanor walked over and set her purse down. "Where’s Dad? Is he asleep?" "In his study, preparing for tomorrow's classes," Lady Finch replied, her eyes narrowing as she studied Eleanor's face, her smile suddenly turning serious. Something in her mother’s expression made Eleanor uneasy. She gulped, trying to prepare herself. "Just ask me whatever you want to, Mother." "So, how did the date with Boy Oliver go? Are you satisfied with him?" Lady Finch cut straight to the point, her tone no longer light. Eleanor hesitated, searching for the right way to phrase her response. "He seems nice enough, but… I guess we just don’t click," she said, opting for tact over honesty. Eleanor was never one to gossip or speak badly of others. At her words, Lady Finch's face fell, clouded with disappointment. "What do you mean, ‘don’t click’? Is that even what matters right now? Good character matters most—money and looks mean nothing at the end of the day. A good man is what you should be looking for. That's a lesson you need to take to heart." Eleanor glanced down, wishing she didn’t have to explain herself as she absorbed her mother’s words. The night had held more revelations than she anticipated, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to process it all just yet.
Chapter 5
“Mom, I really don't think he's the right match for me. We just can't find anything to talk about, and I'm not even sure if HRHome would be interested in me,” Eleanor Goodwin explained, her frustration palpable. “Nonsense! Aunt Margaret called me saying they think you two are a good fit. She said you had a pleasant chat and that he seemed quite taken with you. I just want to know your thoughts on it,” Lady Finch retorted, her tone sharp. Eleanor rolled her eyes. Was this what being a public servant entailed? How could someone move so fast—wasn’t it crazy that Aunt Margaret had already called to dig for details? “Mom, you don't understand. He wants me to hand over all my Chen assets to his family, and at the dinner tonight, he barely chipped in five bucks! He even used a coffee coupon to pay for his drink. I simply can’t see myself marrying someone so reliant on others and so immature!” Lady Finch hesitated for a moment, but then her expression hardened. “That’s just being filial! If he listens to his family, that shows respect. And being careful with expenses means he understands the value of money. Is that the kind of man you want? A free-spender with no respect for parental figures?” “Mom!” Eleanor’s voice rose in frustration as she stood up, glaring at her mother. “Am I such an eyesore to you that all you want is to marry me off? Can’t you see I’m not into him?” “I think deep down, you’re still hung up on Milo Landon,” Lady Finch shot back, her anger a visible coldness on her face. Eleanor’s breath hitched, her mother’s words hitting a sore spot. She bit her lip, her emotions teetering as she struggled to hold back tears. “How can you be so stubborn? After raising you all this time, you’re stuck on one guy and ready to ruin your future over him?” Lady Finch’s anger boiled over. “Eleanor, you can’t live just for yourself! Think about your dad and me. You can’t stay in the past! You need to move forward, and this delay on your marriage isn’t just about you—it affects all of us!” Eleanor and Lady Finch locked eyes, tension thick in the air. Inside, Lady Finch’s heart ached for her daughter. She had watched Eleanor’s turbulent romance unfold all along, and her daughter’s happiness was always a priority. But life couldn’t be spent lamenting what had been; the future was waiting, and every parent hoped to see their child thrive. “What’s going on between you two ladies?” asked Henry Goodwin, stepping out of the study. His graying hair and glasses gave him an air of scholarly wisdom. Lady Finch, annoyed, returned to her seat on the couch, her frustration evident in her heavy breathing. Henry glanced between his wife and daughter, aware that their raised voices had been ringing in his ears. He walked over to Eleanor, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart, your mother really does want what’s best for you. She might be a bit overzealous, but just try to understand her point of view.” Eleanor felt an overwhelming rush of heat in her cheeks as she fought back tears, barely able to choke out an apology to Lady Finch. Grabbing her bag off the coffee table, she dashed to her room and slammed the door behind her with a loud bang.
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