He had someone lead Elodie and Alexander over to one of the tables.

Meanwhile, Jarrod and Sylvie lingered, chatting a bit longer with Steene.

Alexander poured Elodie a glass of juice. “You two never actually had a wedding, did you?”

Elodie wrapped her hands around the chilled glass. “No, we didn’t.”

Her marriage to Jarrod had been one of necessity, a secret rushed through under the pressure of his family. Back then, Jarrod had been coldly decisive, keeping the press at bay and never letting a word about her slip out. Their shameful beginning had never seen the light of day, and during the three years she’d been Mrs. Silverstein, she’d felt as invisible as a ghost.

They’d only gotten the paperwork done in a hurry under his grandmother’s insistence.

Jarrod never once mentioned making up for it with a proper ceremony.

She understood. The marriage had started off wrong; it made sense he wouldn’t want a celebration.

But Alexander couldn’t help but think Elodie had been hurt the most by the whole ordeal. In the end, she’d borne it all alone—the blame, the rumors, the isolation- her strength was all she had to cling to.

“He really believes you didn’t set him up?” Alexander asked quietly. He knew a bit about what had happened-Esmeralda had confided in him once, unable to keep it to herself.

Elodie shook her head. “I doubt it.”

Explanations rarely made a difference-especially when Malcom Harcourt had been the one pulling the strings. Right or wrong, she would always be the one held responsible.

Alexander felt suffocated just thinking about what Elodie had been through. Just then, Jarrod and Sylvie came over and took their seats.

Guests began to arrive one after another, and the conversation faded away.

Sylvie was still glowing from whatever she and Jarrod had just talked about, her eyes shining with happiness. Alexander found himself wondering if Jarrod had made her some kind of promise.

The atmosphere at the garden wedding was warm and lively, laughter drifting across the open lawn. Compared to ceremonies back home, it all felt freer and more relaxed.

Even Elodie found herself caught up in the mood. Watching the bride’s radiant smile, she felt a flicker of empathy, as if she could almost share in that happiness.

When it was time for the bouquet

toss, Elodie joined the crowd out on the grass, not wanting to spoil the fun. As she made her way toward the group, her phone rang. It was Galen-he only called her if there was a technical emergency. Elodie answered as she walked

Sure enough, Galen had run into a snag that needed her input.

Trying to listen and analyze as she walked, Elodie tried to slip away from the crowd, but someone pulled her back, sweeping her along with the other women.

She focused on Galen’s question, her mind switching gears as she replied quickly and calmly.

Suddenly, the cheers ahead grew louder. Elodie sensed something flying toward her-probably the bouquet. Still on the phone, she instinctively reached up with her left hand to catch it.

At that exact moment, another hand shot out, colliding perfectly with hers.

Just as she caught the bouquet, a broad palm closed gently over her hand, fitting around hers as if they’d rehearsed it.

It took Elodie a second to realize what had happened. She turned and saw Jarrod standing beside her.

His expression didn’t change, but in the next moment, his eyes flicked away from her.

The two of them stood there, hands together, bouquet clutched between them- completely unprepared for the burst of applause and teasing that followed.

Someone who didn’t know their story shouted, “You two must be fated! Are you a couple? Come on, give us a hug!”

“Hug! Hug!” The chant caught on.

Elodie, still half-distracted by her phone call, snapped back to the present. She frowned, trying to pull her hand free.

But one of the more enthusiastic guests decided to “help the romance along” and gave her a little shove.

She stumbled, lost her balance, and fell straight into Jarrod’s arms.

Jarrod’s eyes flashed as he glanced sharply at the person who’d shoved her, but his arm shot out instinctively, catching Elodie and holding her steady.

Across the lawn, Sylvie’s earlier happiness vanished in an instant. Her expression turned almost icy as she looked at Elodie.

How could a woman be so shameless? Did Elodie really need to throw herself into Jarrod’s arms?