Chapter 171: You Are My Future

Chapter 171: Chapter 171: You Are My Future

Laughter echoed through the dining room.

Jackson leaned back in his chair and took a sip of red wine. He felt relaxed for the first time all week. The food was excellent. His father, Luca, was in a great mood. And Janice was sitting across from him, recounting a ridiculous story from his second year of law school.

"He tried to fix the sink himself," Janice told Luca, gesturing with her fork. "He flooded the entire apartment. I had to bring him three rolls of duct tape and a mop at two in the morning."

Luca chuckled and shook his head. "You always were stubborn, Jackson."

"I was being resourceful," Jackson argued with a grin.

"You were drowning," Janice corrected.

Jackson laughed. He felt the familiar, easy rhythm of his childhood slipping right back into place. Janice knew his history. She knew the jokes. She knew exactly how to navigate the family dynamic.

Andrea sat at the head of the table. She was smiling, but her eyes were sharp.

She watched Janice carefully. Andrea noticed how Janice steered every single topic back to Jackson. She brought up his college years. His old habits. His favorite meals. Every story held a subtle, unstated message.

I knew him before anyone else did.

Andrea set her wine glass down. "That was a long time ago. Jackson has learned to hire plumbers since then."

Janice smiled. "Some things don’t change. He still tries to fix everything himself."

"Zoya keeps him grounded," Andrea noted casually. "She knows how to manage that part of his personality now."

Janice paused. Her grip on her fork tightened just a fraction. "I am sure she does."

The tone was polite. But Andrea heard the edge beneath it. Janice was not just reminiscing. She was staking a claim.

Later that night, Jackson called Zoya from his car.

"Dinner was good," Jackson said through the speaker. "My parents want to do one more family dinner before the end of the month. You should come."

Zoya sat on her sofa, reviewing a contract draft on her tablet. "I would love to. Let me check my schedule."

"My mother is already plotting the menu." Jackson paused. "Janice is helping her."

Zoya stopped scrolling. "Helping her with what?"

"Some of the wedding details," Jackson explained. "My mother was stressing over the family-side arrangements. Janice offered to organize a few things for her."

Zoya felt a tiny prick of irritation. She pushed it down. "If your mother wants her help, that is fine."

"She just wants to be useful," Jackson said.

"I know."

The next afternoon, Zoya sat at her desk at the law firm. Her email pinged.

She opened a message from their wedding coordinator.

Hi Zoya. We received the requested changes for the reception seating. The revised floor plan is attached for your approval.

Zoya frowned. She clicked the attachment.

The main family tables had been rearranged. Jackson’s extended relatives were moved closer to the head table. Her own family was pushed slightly to the left.

Zoya picked up her phone and dialed the coordinator.

"Hi, Sarah. I just saw the new seating chart. I did not request any changes."

"Oh," Sarah said, sounding confused. "Janice called this morning. She said she was coordinating the family tables for Andrea and needed to adjust the layout."

Zoya stared at the wall of her office. "I see."

"Should I keep the new layout?"

"No," Zoya said evenly. "Change it back to the original draft. If anyone else calls to move those tables, tell them you need my direct approval."

"Got it."

Zoya hung up. She set her phone down.

It was a seating chart. It was a minor detail. But Janice had crossed a line. She had moved from a helpful family member into an active participant in a wedding that did not belong to her.

Zoya packed her briefcase and left the office.

She drove straight to Luca and Andrea’s house. Jackson had mentioned he was stopping by his parents’ place to pick up some old tax documents.

Zoya walked through the front door. The house was quiet. Andrea was out running errands.

Zoya found Janice in the kitchen. She was pouring a glass of sparkling water.

Janice looked up in surprise. "Zoya. Jackson is upstairs looking for a file."

"I know," Zoya said. She walked into the kitchen and set her purse on the counter. "I came to talk to you."

Janice took a slow sip of her water. "About what?"

"I heard you made a change to the wedding arrangements this morning."

Zoya kept her voice perfectly level. There was no anger. No raised volume.

Janice played innocent immediately. "Oh, the seating chart? Andrea was worried about the spacing. I was only helping."

"I appreciate the intention," Zoya said. "But wedding decisions are between Jackson and me."

Janice set her glass down. The innocent act faded.

"I was only trying to make things easier for him," Janice argued. "He hates dealing with logistics. I know how he operates."

"Then let him tell me what he needs," Zoya replied.

The kitchen felt very still. Zoya was establishing a hard boundary, and Janice knew it.

Janice crossed her arms. Her expression turned cold.

"You have known him for a few months," Janice said. Her voice dropped, losing all the polite warmth. "I have known him almost my entire life."

"And?" Zoya asked.

"You don’t understand what you are taking him away from," Janice stated. "He needs people who share his history. Not just someone who looks good on his arm at a corporate gala."

Zoya realized this was never about a seating chart. It was about displacement. Janice truly believed Zoya had stolen her place.

"I am not taking anything from you," Zoya said calmly.

Janice scoffed.

"Jackson chose to build a life with me," Zoya continued. "I did not force him. He asked. You need to accept that."

Janice opened her mouth to fire back.

Footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor in the hallway.

Jackson walked into the kitchen holding a manila folder. He stopped when he saw them. He looked at Zoya, then at Janice. He felt the sharp, uncomfortable tension radiating through the room.

"What is going on?" Jackson asked.

Janice looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Nothing."

Zoya turned to face Jackson. She could expose the entire conversation right now. She could repeat every single word Janice just said.

Instead, she offered a mild smile.

"We were discussing the wedding," Zoya said.

Jackson looked at his sister. Janice looked tense. He looked back at Zoya. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were dead serious.

He did not know the details, but he knew enough.

Jackson walked over and stood right next to Zoya. He looked directly at Janice.

"I know," Jackson said gently. "But you don’t need to. We have it under control," Jackson said.

The words were simple. But they carried immense weight.

Janice looked genuinely hurt. "I was only trying to help Mom with the planning."

"I know," Jackson said gently. "But you don’t need to. We have it under control."

Jackson was choosing Zoya without hesitation.

He didn’t even know the full argument. He didn’t need to. He was drawing the line exactly where it needed to be.

Janice stared at him. She offered a tight, forced nod.

"Right," Janice said. She grabbed her glass of water and walked quickly out of the kitchen.

The room went quiet again.

Jackson set the manila folder on the counter. He turned to Zoya and studied her face.

"What really happened?" Jackson asked.

Zoya looked toward the empty hallway. She thought about telling him the raw truth. But Janice was still his family. Zoya did not want to make him feel like he had to choose sides in a war he did not fully understand yet.

"She crossed a boundary," Zoya said.

Jackson nodded slowly. He did not ask for a list of grievances. He did not ask her to be more patient.

"Then we will set one," Jackson agreed.

Zoya looked at him. A quiet wave of relief washed over her. For the first time since Janice arrived, Zoya realized she did not have to fight this battle alone. Jackson was standing right beside her.

He reached out and took her hand. He pulled her a step closer.

"You are my future, Zoya," Jackson said softly. "Nothing else matters."

Zoya squeezed his fingers and smiled.

Out in the hallway, Janice stood just beyond the kitchen doorway.

She had heard every word.

You are my future, Zoya.

Her fingers tightened around the glass.

Jackson had chosen Zoya.

Janice wasn’t ready to accept that.