Chapter 5
The childish words rang clear through the hall.
Among the guests, several understood Italian. Their expressions shifted.
Maxwell froze for a moment, then quickly composed himself. "Just childish nonsense," he said evenly. "Please don't take it seriously."
Arthur pouted, clearly unwilling to drop it. "But—"
Wendy stepped forward, cutting him off.
"This is your gift," she said softly. "It can make your wish come true."
She handed him a document envelope—the divorce papers she had already signed.
Perhaps, she thought, this was the gift he wanted most.
"There's also a key inside," she added.
She had meant to tell him that the presents for every birthday until his eighteenth were locked in a safe, and he could open one each year.
But before she could finish, Arthur nodded distractedly. "Thanks, Mom. I know."
He didn't believe her words; to him, they were just another adult's attempt to comfort a child.
He tossed the envelope aside and turned eagerly to Chloe. "Aunt Chloe, what did you get me?"
Chloe smiled, pulling a small package from her pocket. Inside were three matching T-shirts, printed with a photo of the three of them from a day at the amusement park.
"I made these from our photo," she said. "Do you like them?"
"Wow!" Arthur gasped, eyes shining. He held the shirts up, turning them this way and that. "I love them! I'm going to wear them tomorrow, and the day after, and forever!"
Just then, the photographer arrived to take the family photo.
Arthur tugged at Maxwell's sleeve. "Dad, can we all wear them for the picture? Please?"
For once, Maxwell didn't refuse.
When the three reappeared, dressed alike, they looked every bit like a family.
"Why aren't you joining?" Maxwell asked when he noticed Wendy standing aside.
She looked at the three of them—so close, so complete—and forced a smile. "I'm a bit tired. Go ahead without me."
He didn't insist. The photographer began shooting.
For the perfect angle, he asked Maxwell and Chloe to move closer—until their shoulders touched.
Both froze, glancing at each other. Something tender flickered in his eyes; a faint blush rose on hers.
Arthur stood between them, holding their hands, grinning in pure joy.
Around them, whispers began again.
"First the boy wishes another woman were his mother, now they're wearing matching shirts—Mrs. Woods must have a saint's patience."
"You don't know the half of it. Back in college, Mr. Woods proposed to his first love a hundred times. If she hadn't refused to marry so young, Mrs. Woods wouldn't even be here today."
"So his first love is his 'white moonlight.' Now that she's back, do you think... ?"
Hearing them, Wendy suddenly remembered the day six years ago when Maxwell proposed to her.
No flowers. No ring. Not even a confession.
Just a single line: 'Will you marry me?'
Seven words that sent her heart straight into the fire.
Even after learning about his past with Chloe, she had convinced herself that being his wife would eventually win his love.
It took her six years to realize—no amount of warmth could thaw a heart already frozen around another name.
As she watched him gaze at Chloe, a small, bitter smile curved her lips.
It didn't matter. Soon, this marriage that should never have started would finally end.