God… he looked back.
That was when I understood.
He already fixed everything with her.
Of course he did.
His eyes never left her the whole night. When her glass got empty, he noticed right away.
“Don’t give her that,” he said, voice low but firm. “Get her something lighter. She doesn’t drink much.”
When her dress shifted a little, he frowned and called someone over.
“Fix it properly. Don’t let it drag.”
She laughed at something, eyes curved, soft… and he actually smiled. Not that cold, distant smile. A real one.
I stood there watching for a second too long.
Then I looked away.
What was I even expecting?
He never looked at me.
Not once.
I moved to the side, greeting people like I was just part of the staff.
When it was time to open gifts, people brought out all kinds of expensive things. Jewelry, rare pieces, things worth more than most people’s lives. Then mine was brought out. A custom-made fountain pen. Simple, elegant, something I chose carefully because he once said he preferred things like that. Quiet. Useful.
The butler placed it on a tray.
“Mrs. Hayes really understands Mr. Hayes’ taste,” someone said with a smile. “This kind of piece isn’t flashy but it fits him perfectly.”
“Yeah, it’s refined. Just like him.”
Hudson glanced at it, then at me.
For a second, I thought…
“Thanks,” he said casually.
That was it.
Then Amber’s gift was brought out.
A small box.
Inside was a handmade leather bracelet. The stitching was uneven, rough in some places, like it wasn’t done by a professional.
The room went quiet.
Then someone laughed softly.
“…Seriously? People still give things like this?”
“Looks cheap. I don’t think Mr. Hayes would even touch that.”
“Who even let her in here dressed like that, bringing something like this?”
Amber’s face went pale. She stepped back slightly, like she wanted to disappear.
Hudson’s expression darkened instantly. He picked up the bracelet and the room went silent. Without hesitation, he slipped it onto his wrist.
“I like this,” he said, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through everyone. “At least this one means something. Someone actually put time into it.”
No one spoke.
Then his gaze shifted to the pen. He picked it up, looked at it for a second, then let out a quiet scoff.
“This kind of thing…” he said coldly, “you can buy it anywhere. There’s nothing special about it.”
My chest tightened.