Chapter 2
789 Words
"Ms. Wilson, Mr. West has confirmed he'll be attending tomorrow afternoon's wedding menu tasting as scheduled."
The wedding planner called while I was struggling to open a bottle of medicine with my injured right hand.
The cap wouldn't budge. The movement tugged at my stitches.
I froze for two seconds.
"He confirmed it himself?"
"Yes. Mr. West said that since your hand is injured, you shouldn't delay the wedding schedule. He also said he'll personally accompany you."
My eyes drifted to the engagement ring on the nightstand.
"Okay."
The next afternoon, I arrived at the private lakeside banquet venue.
Half an hour later, Jacob showed up.
Betty came in behind him. A tiny bandage covered her knee, and she walked as if every step hurt.
Jacob immediately pulled out a chair for her.
"Sit on the inside. Don't bump your knee."
She lowered her voice. "Mr. West, I'm fine. I can do it myself."
"Don't push yourself."
When he said that, he never once looked at my injured hand.
The wedding planner blinked in surprise. "And this is...?"
Betty looked at me first. "Ms. Wilson, Mr. West said I'm detail-oriented, so I thought I'd help look over the wedding plans. Don't worry, I won't interfere or make unnecessary suggestions."
Jacob took the seat beside me. "Your hand isn't in good shape, so stop trying to handle everything yourself. Betty's worked with me for years. She knows what she's doing."
I nodded.
The tasting began.
The first dish, pan-seared foie gras with caramelized peaches, was served.
Betty only took one sniff before her expression changed. She looked cautiously at Jacob.
"This one's a little too sweet. If I remember correctly, your father's blood sugar has never been very stable. If Ms. Wilson specially prepared this for him, I'm sure he wouldn't have the heart to refuse it."
She smiled gently. "Maybe we could prepare a coconut mango pudding on the side instead? It'd be easier on his health. What do you think, Mr. West?"
Jacob immediately turned to me. "Cheryl, marriage is about two families, not just your preferences. Even an outsider like Betty is paying more attention than you are. Take this dish off the menu. We don't want the elders finding fault."
I nodded. "Okay."
The second course was handmade raspberry macarons. Betty took one bite.
"They're beautiful, but... didn't you mention your mother has trouble chewing these days, Mr. West? A creamy pumpkin pudding would be much softer."
Jacob looked at the planner. "Pumpkin pudding? Then switch it."
I wrapped both hands around my cup. The water was warm, but my fingertips were still cold.
By the time the black pepper lamb chops were served, I could barely taste anything anymore.
Betty carefully cut off a small piece and sampled it.
"The black pepper is a little too strong. Mr. West, you've been staying up late lately. This probably won't help you sleep. Why don't we replace it with pan-seared sablefish? It's lighter and much healthier."
Jacob frowned. This time, he glanced at me.
"Leave this one."
I'd spent three months putting together this menu.
The foie gras with peaches was the first thing Jacob and I had ever shared at a European food festival.
The raspberry macarons were the dessert he'd taken one bite of on the day we got engaged before saying they were the best he'd ever tasted.
The black pepper lamb chops... I'd spent years adjusting that recipe because of his sensitive stomach.
That night, he'd smiled at me and said, "Every single dish at our wedding should be something you love."
Turns out it only took one word. "Replace." That was all it took to erase years of someone's love and effort.
When the final confirmation sheet was handed over, the planner quietly asked, "Miss Wilson, are you sure you want to replace both of those meaningful dishes?"
Jacob slid the pen toward me. "Your hand's injured. Sign it, then go home and rest. Don't let the wedding become a burden."
My fingers stiffened around the pen. I gripped it so tightly my knuckles turned white.
As I signed the final stroke, the sharp pen tip tore straight through the paper. Like a c***k splitting apart the eight years we'd spent together.
That evening, Jacob posted a message in the wedding group chat.
Jacob: Cheryl injured her hand. Betty will be helping coordinate the wedding from now on. She's very detail-oriented, so contact her if you need anything.
Betty replied almost immediately.
Betty: I'll do my best to live up to Mr. West's trust, and I'll also make sure to respect Miss Wilson's ideas as much as possible.
The engagement ring still sat on my nightstand.
I never put it back on.
- Writer
