Sara stood then, brushing down her skirt with composed elegance. "Today's a good day. I made a reservation at the restaurant. Let's all go together."
She didn't say his name. Didn't need to. Her eyes never left him.
And just like that, they gathered—my parents, my wife, my daughter and my brother—as if the past decade had been a brief misunderstanding. As if the disaster of that wedding day had never torn everything apart.
They had forgotten.
Forgotten how the Rogers were humiliated and furious. Forgotten how they withdrew every investment and nearly bankrupted us. Forgotten how my mother collapsed from stress, how my father dragged me out of the lab just days before I was to leave for a research posting abroad.
They made me stay.
Made me stand in Francis's place at the altar. Made me give up my career, my future, my dignity. They told me I had to step up for the Cole Family. That I was their last hope. My father was so desperate, he nearly got on his knees.
I gave in.
I put on that suit. I became the substitute groom.
When I first stepped into the Rogers' manor, Sara was a wreck. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her voice hoarse from screaming. She refused to work, locked herself in her room, drinking herself into a stupor. Some nights, she didn't even know where she was.
And I—I cared for the infant she didn't want to hold. I cleaned up her messes, wiped Elise's tears, fed her bottles in the dead of night. And when Elise cried for no reason, I held her close, humming lullabies until she calmed.
Meanwhile, I stayed up late helping my former research team finish their reports remotely, knowing full well I'd never rejoin them.
One year later, Elise toddled across the room for the first time, arms wobbling. Sara burst into tears and hugged me so tightly I couldn't breathe.
"Oliver, thank you," she whispered between sobs. "From now on, let's live a good life together."
I believed her.
I believed her when she said we were a family now. I believed every smile, every tear she shed for me. I thought maybe—just maybe—I had built something real from the ruins.
But now?
Now Francis didn't have to lift a finger. He just had to show up and every sacrifice I made vanished. My ten years of love and labor were erased with one smile from him.
And they welcomed him like nothing had ever happened.
Just as I was lost in thought, Francis spotted me standing halfway down the stairs.