Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The ceremony unfolded like a dream. Gen’s father proudly escorted Jada down the aisle, his eyes glistening with tears that never quite fell. Jada herself was a vision of emotion, tears streaming freely as she recited her vows to Louis. When the music swelled and Louis swept her into a dance, their radiant smiles seemed to erase all the anxiety she had felt since the previous night—ever since she’d discovered she had slept with a mob boss. Despite the joy around her, a flicker of hope still sparked in her chest every time she glanced at the crowd, irrationally searching for his dark hair and hazel-brown eyes among the guests. Weddings always brought out that bitter irony in her—the overwhelming scent of love so thick it could infect even the most hardened cynics.

Gen took a slow sip of her tonic, a small smile tugging at her lips as her sister waved enthusiastically from across the room. The reception was winding down; guests were gradually filtering out after offering their final congratulations to the newlyweds. Her gaze drifted as a familiar figure approached, and she quickly looked away.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see Brian here. After all, it was Louis who had introduced them during one of Jada’s trips to Boston. Gen and Brian had been together for almost two years before he abruptly moved to New York six months ago to pursue his career. Around the same time, Gen and her friend Charlotte had just launched their own accounting firm, which kept her grounded and unable to follow him. But that hadn’t stopped Brian. Now, he was holding the hand of a heavily pregnant woman. Gen couldn’t help but wonder what had drawn him to someone expecting a child when he had always insisted he had no interest in becoming a father.

As Brian stopped to chat with Louis and Jada, the pregnant woman excused herself and began to wobble toward Gen’s table. Two other women flanked her, steadying her as she took the last few unsteady steps. Gen pulled out her phone and pretended to be deeply absorbed in an email.

“There you go, Sugar Plum,” one of the women said with a warm smile as they helped her settle into the chair.

“Ugh, thanks, guys. Bri will be ready to leave soon. I have to get off these feet,” the woman with Brian murmured, rubbing her lower back.