Chapter 3

His head was slightly lowered, long lashes casting a shadow over his eyes.

His pale lips were pressed into a bloodless line.

He sat utterly still, so quiet it was as if no life remained in him—

only the faint rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive.

The officiant’s voice rang out, loud yet hollow, reciting the same vows heard at countless weddings.

When it came to my turn to answer “I do,” the entire cathedral fell into a strange, breathless silence.

Every gaze fixed on my face, waiting for me to make an even greater fool of myself.

Startled by the sudden quiet, I shrank back slightly, my eyes darting blankly around before finally settling, in silent appeal, on Adrian Bennett in his wheelchair.

He seemed entirely lost in his own world, giving no response.

So I turned instead to Richard Collins beside me.

His facial muscles twitched, his eyes filled with warning and urgency.

I made an “Oh!” sound, as if suddenly understanding, then turned back to the officiant with a wide, foolish grin.

“I… I do! I want to eat strawberry mille-feuille!”

My voice tilted upward at the end in a playful lilt.

“Pfft—”

“Hahaha…”

Laughter exploded instantly through the cathedral.

Guests doubled over, some even wiping tears from their eyes.

Amid the deafening mockery, Adrian’s thick lashes gave the slightest tremor—so fast it could have been my imagination.

Emily Collins stepped forward, linking her arm through mine in a show of sisterly affection, though her nails dug sharply into my arm beneath the sleeve of my gown.

“Anna, from now on you’re the Bennett family’s young madam. You must take good care of Mr. Bennett.”

I tilted my head, smiling vacantly, and deliberately stepped on the hem of her dress, watching her stumble to regain her balance, a flicker of malice glinting in my eyes.

“Don’t worry, sis! I’ll share half of my strawberry mille-feuille with him!”

I held my empty hands as though cradling a dessert, but the pearl bracelet on my wrist slipped off with a clink, rolling to a stop at the foot of Adrian’s wheelchair.

Bending to pick it up, my fingers “accidentally” brushed against the cold leather of his shoe.

A faint sensation reached my fingertips—not the texture of fabric, but the quick hook of his foot hidden under the drape of his trousers.

My heart jolted. When I looked up, Adrian still had his eyes lowered, though the fingers resting on his knee had curled slightly inward.

Richard Collins came over to exchange pleasantries with Old Mr. Bennett, his voice thick with obsequiousness.

“Don’t worry, sir. Anna may be… but she’ll certainly take good care of Mr. Bennett.”

As he spoke, he shot me a look, signaling for me to greet Adrian.

I leaned close to the wheelchair and called loudly into Adrian’s ear,

“Honey! Let’s go have some strawberry mille-feuille, okay?”

My warm breath brushed his ear, and I saw the barest blush bloom along the side of his neck.

“Young madam, the master needs rest. I’ll take him back to his room,” the butler interjected, stepping forward.

As the wheelchair turned, Adrian’s fingers resting on the armrest suddenly tapped twice lightly, then once firmly—an odd rhythm, like some kind of code.

I watched his figure disappear down the corridor, clutching the recovered pearl bracelet. The clasp had a minuscule notch, as though it had been deliberately filed.

Behind me, Emily and Jason’s laughter still rang on, but in my ears there was only the sound of that two-light-one-heavy tapping…

And the strange ripple in my chest from the moment Adrian’s lashes trembled.