“Well, of course he remembers,” someone laughed. “Chesca’s his first love, after all. When she moved overseas and married that French guy, didn’t Rockwell mope around for a whole month?”
Inside the room, Norman joined in with exaggerated winks and teasing.
“Miss Sherald here is gorgeous, talented, and already a well-known artist at such a young age. Who wouldn’t fall for her? It’s only natural that Rockwell liked her once.
“I wasn’t sure if he really did before, but now…”
He trailed off deliberately, but everyone chuckled knowingly, casting ambiguous looks at the old flames.
Chesca blushed from their teasing and shyly said, “Come on, don’t joke around. You’re making something out of nothing. Besides, I’ve already been married and divorced. I’m not good enough for Rockwell.”
“You’re good enough for anyone. The one who’s not good enough… is me,” Rockwell quickly jumped in, afraid she actually meant what she said—that she wasn’t worthy of him.
Up until this point, Solenne had been silently sitting there, barely noticed.
All eyes were on Rockwell and Chesca, laughing and joking, caught up in their own world. Solenne didn’t even have the right to question him.
To everyone else, she was just his future sister-in-law—his eldest brother’s fiancée. To everyone else, she had nothing to do with Rockwell.
“I’m going to the restroom,” Solenne said quietly.
But Rockwell didn’t even glance her way. All his attention was still on Chesca.
Seeing this, Solenne forced a faint smile, got up on her own, and walked away.
Chesca had noticed. The corners of her lips curved upward ever so slightly. She excused herself, saying she also needed the restroom, and followed behind Solenne.
When Solenne came out, she found Chesca standing by the sink, clearly waiting for her.
“Do you need something?” Solenne asked, her expression calm and unreadable.
Chesca smiled.
It was a smile laced with superiority, with mockery, and a hint of victory.
She spoke slowly, almost lazily, “You saw it yourself tonight, didn’t you? The one Rockwell really loves… is me. If you had even a shred of self-awareness, you’d stay away from him. Don’t let him run off with you.”
The words hit Solenne like a jolt.
At that moment, she realized, ‘So she’s not some innocent little rabbit. She knows everything.’
But how? Rockwell would never tell her. He wouldn’t risk Chesca misunderstanding his concern.