His Tardiness, Her New Marriage Chapter 09

His Tardiness, Her New Marriage Chapter 09

Blake looked at her reddened eyes,

at the expensive wedding gown she was wearing.

The hint of softness that had appeared on his face from seeing Audrey’s photo instantly vanished.

What did he feel?

He hadn’t thought about it.

Sloane in a wedding dress… admittedly, she looked good.

There was even a shocking kind of appeal.

But they were too close, so close that he had almost forgotten she was a woman.

His feelings for Sloane were more like a man’s possessiveness over a friend.

He liked seeing her orbit around him, enjoyed the feeling of being needed, of being admired.

But what he loved even more was effortlessly maintaining the delicate balance between the two women in his life.

Audrey was his anchor—his “home.”

Sloane was his thrill—his “excitement.”

He had never considered having to choose between them.

Or rather, he subconsciously believed that with his power and status, he could keep things this way forever.

Sloane’s tears and her question suddenly ripped apart the veil he had so carefully maintained.

For a moment, he was stunned.

But that small tremor was quickly suppressed by his dominant rationality and the impending wedding.

This wasn’t the time to deal with this.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He avoided her searing gaze. “Sloane, stop it. This isn’t the time or place. Go change out of that dress.”

After he said that, he sprinted off in Audrey’s direction.

I had just finished a call on the terrace outside the ballroom and was about to head inside for the reception.

As I turned, I saw Blake rushing toward me.

“Audrey,” he said, slightly out of breath. “There you are.”

A few of his groomsmen and Sloane followed close behind, blocking the entrance to the terrace.

“Audrey, you’ve got some nerve!” the chattiest groomsman called out first.

“That’s a hell of a joke to pull—just wandering over to the ballroom next door? You had Blake running all over the place looking for you!”

“Seriously,” another one chimed in, looking around at the neighboring ballroom—beautifully decorated, filled with guests, but all of them strangers.

“This ballroom is nice, though, right? What, were you worried our decorations weren’t good enough? Came to scout the competition?”