Chapter 4 Getting Married?
1016 Words
Welby stepped out of the car, his long legs closing the distance between them in a few strides. He glanced at their height difference—standing a full head taller than her—then, just like their first meeting, gently patted her head. "You've gotten taller. Where to? I'll drive you."
After a bitter fallout with his family five years ago, Welby had been sent abroad. This was his first time back.
Sandra stared at him, still unable to believe her eyes.
He waved a hand playfully in front of her face. "What, speechless?"
He must have known everything that had happened to her this past month. Yet here he was, appearing at her most vulnerable moment—lost, alone—just like old times, patting her head as if to say, I'm here for you.
Sandra’s nose stung, and the tears she’d bottled up for too long spilled over. Laughing through her tears, she managed, "I need to get to work."
Welby bent slightly, letting her lean on his shoulder. "What happened with Philip... wasn’t your fault."
No need for awkward reunions. The five years apart might as well have never existed—because Welby was that kind of friend. The kind you could always rely on.
Sunlight pierced through the canopy, drenching them in golden light, a scene so perfect it could’ve been lifted from a painting.
And that was exactly what Jackie saw the moment he stepped out of the hospital ward.
Welby was back.
Yet he hadn’t reached out to anyone. Instead, here he stood—right beside Sandra.
This woman... she had moves.
Jackie’s grip on the phone tightened. In one swift motion, he dialed a number, his voice frigid. "Terminate Sandra’s contract. Effective immediately."
The car glided smoothly along the road, the scenery outside blurring past. Sandra wiped her tears, cleared her throat, and forced her voice steady. "Jackie and I... we just got married."
The air went dead silent.
They reached an intersection. Green light. Clear to go.
Welby jammed the brakes, the car lurching to a stop. His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. "You and Jackie—"
"We're legally married." Sandra had never seen him lose his cool like this. The Welby she knew always kept his composure. But she brushed it off—of course this would shock anyone. It was sudden. Unthinkable.
This was what she’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? So why did it feel like a knife to the chest?
All warmth drained from Welby’s eyes. He released the brake and merged back into traffic, his gaze fixed ahead. "When?"
"Just now," Sandra admitted. "In Uncle Champion’s hospital room."
"Last night... he really took you to that infamous basement?"
In high society, scandal traveled faster than a text message.
What's more, the incident seemed deliberately amplified by someone with ulterior motives. Grainy photos from the scene had surfaced—blurry, but Jackie's chiseled features were instantly recognizable.
To everyone, Sandra was clearly the mastermind.
Despite Jackie's swift damage control erasing all traces online, he was sure Sandra had seized the opportunity to push her agenda.
"You...know about it?" Sandra's face flamed scarlet, burning with humiliation.
Welby nodded, slowing the car though his thoughts raced wildly. Had he returned just one day earlier, would things have been different? In his twenty-three years, he'd never been this frustrated with himself.
After a pause, his voice regained its usual warmth: "My little girl's all grown up, huh?"
Just like that, he skirted past her embarrassment.
Warm gratitude flooded Sandra's chest—too overwhelming to voice.
"We're here." She pointed at University of Nebraska at Omaha's gates. "I stayed on as faculty after graduating last year."
Welby leaned over, snatching her phone to tap in his number. When his own device rang, he saved the contact with two simple characters: [Welby].
"Call me anytime." He flashed a grin, waving his phone. "I'll always pick up for you."
Still embarrassed by the earlier mention of the basement incident, Sandra avoided his gaze, murmuring thanks before slipping out of the car.
Even in her office, her cheeks still burned from the memory.
Only when she vanished from view did Welby drive away.
"Wait—you're still here?" Colleague Briseida gaped. "We all got your termination notice!"
"What? Briseida, that's not funny."
"The whole department got emails this morning." Briseida pulled up the message. "All it said was 'unprofessional behavior'—no explanation whatsoever." As a senior professor who'd mentored Sandra, she lowered her voice. "Did you cross someone powerful?"
"Sandra? No way! She's the most easygoing person here!" another coworker chimed in.
Sandra's vision blurred with unshed tears. Since seeing Welby, every emotion magnified—warmth from their concern now warred with fresh anguish. She threw her head back, blinking hard to stop the tears. "Don't worry. I'll clarify with the dean. It'll get sorted."
After sixty agonizing minutes, her shaking hands managed to text Jackie: "Why did you get me fired?"
His reply came shockingly fast: "You know exactly why."
Before she could even finish typing "I," his message flashed onto her screen.
A trimmed video—just thirty seconds long.
Her hand jerked slightly as she pressed play.
Had the school administration already seen this?
She started to ask, then stopped mid-sentence, letting out a hollow laugh. They didn’t need evidence. Just one word from Jackie—and her fate was sealed.
Back at graduation, the competition for teaching positions had raged. As an undergrad competing against master's candidates, her credentials were weaker. But her exceptional skills had set her apart, earning her the rare exception to stay on as a teaching assistant.
No one here knew about her connection to the Champions—Omaha’s most powerful family. She’d never leveraged that name for favor.
Now, with a single command, Jackie had wiped away four years of her sweat and sacrifice.
Maybe he even thought he was being kind—not exposing her shame to the entire faculty.
*Vrrrt.* Another vibration.
Two words glared from the screen:
*"Come here."*
A sharp flutter seized Sandra’s right eyelid.
- Writer
