As soon as Weston stepped inside the Ford family manor, he immediately sensed the shift in the atmosphere. The usually warm and welcoming home felt tense. His family was gathered, but their expressions were grim, and there was an air of disapproval that seemed to hang in the room.
Weston ignored their stares, walking past them and taking his seat. Guinevere, who had hoped to enter the house clinging to his arm, felt a pang of embarrassment when Weston didn’t make any effort to acknowledge her gesture. She quickly regained her composure and sat down beside him, her demeanor as composed and elegant as ever.
With a practiced smile, Guinevere greeted the family. “Sorry to have kept everyone waiting. We were running a little late.”
Guinevere, a true socialite, carried herself with grace and poise. Her etiquette was impeccable, and she knew how to navigate these high-society gatherings with ease. This was, after all, a Ford family banquet, and she was now considered a part of the family.
“It’s alright. If I’m not mistaken, your due date should be soon,” Weston’s mother, Wendy Thomas, said with a warm smile. “It’s better to be careful when traveling, and a little delay is nothing to worry about.”
Guinevere returned the smile, grateful for the kindness. “Thank you for your concern… Aunt Wendy.”
She had nearly called her “Mom” but quickly changed her mind. Wendy’s warmth contrasted with the cool distance that Weston had shown her. It was hard to reconcile this loving family with the detached and indifferent man she was engaged to.
Wendy, though aging, still exuded an undeniable charm. She had been a famous actress in her younger years, a true icon of her time. Now, though retired from the industry, she carried herself with the elegance of a seasoned beauty, having chosen family life over fame. Her love for Chris, Weston’s father, had always been evident, a love that had stood the test of time.
Chris Ford, the patriarch of the family, was a man of few words. Though he shared a striking resemblance to Weston, his demeanor was somewhat different. Weston had inherited the more prominent features, making him appear more imposing than his father. Despite the differences, there was no mistaking the strong bond between father and son.
Chris and Wendy were known as a romantic couple in the community, always together, always in love. Their story seemed to mirror that of Weston and Guinevere, though Guinevere often found herself wondering why Weston, with his loving parents and exceptional family background, remained so emotionally distant.
As Wendy’s eyes flickered to Guinevere’s growing stomach, her smile softened even further. “It’s alright. You’re pregnant, so you should take extra care. Your due date is next month, right? You need to be even more careful from now on.”
Chris remained quiet, his gaze never once landing on Guinevere. He hadn’t acknowledged her presence since they entered. His fingers drummed lightly on his knees, a sign of the brewing tension in the room. After a long pause, he finally turned to Weston.
“When do you plan to get married?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Guinevere, her heart skipping a beat, waited for Weston to respond. But all she received was silence. The room, once filled with idle chatter, became suffocatingly quiet.
Chris’s eyes darkened as he continued, his voice firm. “Gwen is giving birth soon. Even if you can’t have a wedding ceremony right away, at least register your marriage. It’s only proper. And it would put the Cohen family at ease.”
The words seemed to reverberate in the room. Guinevere’s pulse quickened, her eyes searching Weston’s face for any sign of a response, but there was none. The tension in the room grew palpable, as if the very air had thickened. Everyone waited, but Weston remained silent. The atmosphere was now charged with a sense of uncertainty, and it felt as though time itself had paused.
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