Mrs. Cohen’s eyes softened as she looked at her daughter, noticing the quiet distress in her expression. She frowned slightly, concern etched on her face.
“Weston,” she began, her voice calm yet laced with an underlying authority, “I know you’ve always been such a good boy. But lately… has work been too much? Are you emotionally unsettled? I’ve heard some gossip…” She hesitated, as if considering her words carefully, before continuing, “You should rest, spend more time with your family. You need to take care of yourself.”
Weston was the epitome of the ideal bachelor in high society—a man of ambition, wealth, and discipline. Unlike other young men from affluent families, who squandered their privileges, Weston had focused solely on his career. His work ethic, combined with his inherent drive, had set him far apart from his peers. It wasn’t hard to see why, at such a young age, he had already taken control of the family business, outpacing everyone around him.
To the parents of young women in the elite circles, Weston was often held up as an example, the perfect match. They would tell their children to strive to be like him—disciplined, accomplished, and unwavering in his focus. He had a reputation for being a model of loyalty, with no distractions from women. Guinevere had been the only one by his side, and for many, this made their relationship appear steadfast and pure.
Yet, there were whispers. Rumors about a mysterious woman from Weston’s past who had vanished without a trace. No one knew for sure whether the stories were true or if they had been buried. What was certain was that no one dared speak of it openly.
As parents, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen couldn’t meddle too much in their daughter’s personal life, but they felt compelled to express their concerns about her marriage. Mrs. Cohen, her tone both gentle and insistent, spoke again. “We know you’re not the kind of man the rumors suggest. Still, they’re unsettling, and they could harm your reputation. Guinevere and you only need the marriage certificate and the ceremony to silence them. If you two have a solid relationship, everything else will fall into place.”
She phrased it like a casual suggestion, but it carried the weight of expectation. Guinevere watched Weston carefully, her nerves evident as she awaited his response.
Weston’s expression remained unreadable as he met her gaze briefly, then turned back to her parents. After a long silence, he spoke, his tone calm but distant. “I don’t have an issue with it. But registering the marriage isn’t as simple as it seems. There are assets and other matters to consider. I’ll have the professionals handle it.”
Mr. and Mrs. Cohen nodded, accepting his pragmatic approach. “Of course,” Mr. Cohen agreed, his tone a bit softer now. “It’s a union of two families, after all. Certain things need to be clarified.”
Weston paused, his gaze shifting back to Guinevere. “Also, I’ll arrange for a premarital medical examination. It’s part of the process. We owe it to each other to be responsible.”
Guinevere frowned slightly, confusion flickering across her face. “We already have a child. Why would we need that?”
“It’s standard procedure,” Weston replied, his voice even. “It’s not just about the child. It’s about understanding each other’s health. We should be thorough.”
Guinevere hesitated but ultimately nodded. She had been hoping for more, but for now, she chose to accept his terms. “Fine. We’ll do as you say.”
The conversation seemed to reach a fragile conclusion. Guinevere’s parents, satisfied for the moment, prepared to leave. Mrs. Cohen turned to her daughter one last time. “We’ll leave now. Spend some time with Weston.”
Guinevere followed them to the door, her movements slow, as if reluctant to let them go. After closing the door behind them, she turned back into the apartment and froze. Weston was standing behind her, his posture rigid, his face cold and devoid of any emotion.
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