The room remained thick with tension as even the other family members exchanged confused glances. Guinevere and Weston’s marriage had been accepted by both families, and initially, no one had pressed Weston about it. They believed that Weston, as always, had his own plans. But now, instead of being busy with other arrangements, it seemed that he was instead lost in his own thoughts. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken questions.
Finally, it was Chris who broke the silence. His voice was firm, his eyes sharp as he directed his question at Weston. “I’ve been hearing rumors lately. Do you have other considerations in mind?”
At this, some of the more curious family members couldn’t resist chiming in. “I’ve heard some rumors going around… claims that Weston… has a woman on the side!”
Xavier, Chris’s younger brother, took it upon himself to speak up. “Xavier!” Chris barked, his fury rising. “Who allowed you to speak like that?”
By “another woman,” Xavier was clearly referring to Stella. Although outsiders might not be aware of the full story, Chris wasn’t easily deceived, and neither was Xavier, who had his suspicions.
Xavier, though younger than Weston by just a few years, was still a pivotal figure in the family. As the child of Old Mr. Ford’s later years, Xavier had grown up to be his grandfather’s favorite, which had earned him considerable power within the family. Despite the tension, Xavier still managed to wear a cheeky grin even in the face of Chris’s anger.
“Big brother, I was only repeating the rumors I heard. I never said they were true,” Xavier continued, clearly enjoying the situation. “Weston has always been virtuous, so I believe those rumors are just nonsense. Don’t you agree, big brother?”
Chris, though his temper had flared momentarily, didn’t let Xavier’s words distract him. He ignored his younger brother and focused back on Weston, his tone hardening. “You heard him. Those rumors will never stop, not until the day you marry Gwen. You need to tell the Cohen family and Gwen exactly when you plan to register your marriage.”
The pressure weighed on Guinevere’s chest, and she felt her heart stop as her anxiety rose. She instinctively glanced at Weston, holding her breath, waiting for him to provide an answer. If Weston could just give a clear, definitive response, this whole ordeal could be resolved.
But Weston remained silent, his mouth set in a thin line, his gaze distant. The room fell into an uncomfortable stillness. The weight of everyone’s eyes on him seemed to grate on his nerves, and he rubbed the space between his eyebrows, as if trying to soothe a headache. Finally, he muttered, “I can handle my own matters.”
The sudden sound of Chris slamming his cutlery onto the table shattered the silence. “Weston, what do you mean by that attitude of yours?” His voice was a growl of frustration.
Wendy stood up immediately, her concern evident. “Chris, what are you doing?” She reached over to calm her husband, gently rubbing his back as he tried to collect himself. Once he had settled, she sat back down, her expression softening as she turned to Weston. “You rarely come home, so please stop making your father angry. Let’s all have a nice dinner together.”
Xavier, who had been enjoying the spectacle, looked as though he was about to make another provocative comment. But at the sharp glance Wendy gave him, he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. He had always been more inclined to listen to Wendy’s gentle authority than to Chris’s stern commands. A smile played on his lips, but he remained silent.
With Wendy’s intervention, the confrontation slowly died down. The heavy tension in the room remained, but the immediate threat of escalation had passed. Guinevere, ever perceptive, recognized the need to smooth over the situation. She gave a calm, composed smile and gently turned to Weston, her voice warm and affectionate. “Weston, could you get me a bowl of soup?”
Her words were a subtle attempt to reaffirm her place by his side, showing that, no matter the turmoil around them, she remained supportive of him. Whether they got married or not, she was adamant that it was their matter, and others had no right to interfere.
The atmosphere, while still tense, shifted ever so slightly as the focus turned away from the confrontation, leaving behind a quieter, more subdued energy at the table. The unspoken question of when Weston would make his move on the marriage was still hanging in the air, but for now, the conversation had been momentarily diverted.
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