Chapter 3
"She..." Ethan's voice was rough. "How old is she?"
"She's three," Tessa said, steady as ever.
That killed the last thin layer of denial.
Three years old.
The timeline lined up too perfectly.
So perfectly that everyone understood at once: if this child was really Tessa's, then she had been pregnant before anyone thought she was dead.
Serena stood on stage, her expression completely changed.
It finally dawned on her that the real disaster tonight wasn't just Tessa coming back alive. It was the moment this child appeared, all those stories about "old flames" or "the ex-wife causing trouble" got blown apart, exposing a truth way uglier and harder to swallow.
Tessa bent down and straightened her daughter's scarf, which had gotten crooked from walking. Then she looked up, her gaze landing on Serena up on stage.
Her gaze was calm, her voice soft. "Don't rush to continue the wedding.
"Because I'm still alive.
"Whether you had any right to stand there is something we should settle tonight."
When those words fell, the entire hall felt like the air had been sucked out.
No one clapped, and no one dared to stand up or intervene.
The wedding hall, which just moments ago was aglow with lights, champagne flowing, and laughter everywhere, now felt like someone had dropped a glass cover over it.
All the sounds lingered, but every single one was muffled—so much so that even the faint scrape of a violin bow against a music stand, as the band awkwardly stopped playing, sounded painfully sharp.
The officiant stood at the edge of the stage with the microphone in his hand, his professional smile long gone, trapped between staying and leaving. Ethan's mother was the first person from the Ford side to speak again. She rose slowly with one hand on the chair back, lips moving twice before sound finally came.
"Tessa, this child..."
Tessa looked up at her, her expression calm and neutral.
"My daughter," she said.
As soon as those four words left her mouth, another wave of whispers swept through the guests.
Once she said it herself, there was no turning back. The little girl stood quietly at her side, looking up, her tiny hand still holding Tessa's fingers, like she had no clue why all the grown-ups suddenly looked so uncomfortable.
Ethan looked down at the little girl.
Her eyes were bright, shaped just like Tessa's, but the way she pursed her lips and tilted her head up at him—it was uncanny, just like Ethan's childhood photos. This wasn't some imagined similarity; it was the kind that slapped you in the face, impossible to fake.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally bent down, his voice barely above a whisper.
"What's your name?" Ethan asked.
The little girl glanced at him, then turned to look at Tessa.
Tessa didn't answer for her, just patted her hair and said, "Tell him yourself."
"Stella Quinn," the little girl replied, her voice soft and sweet but her words clear. "Stella—like stars."
She paused, then added, "Mommy says I shouldn't go with strangers."
It was just a kid's ordinary warning, but in that moment, it felt like a slap in the face to everyone watching.
A stranger.
Here he was, standing at his own wedding—and his own daughter saw him as nothing but a stranger.
Ethan's fingers tightened for a split second, and the calm he'd been holding onto finally shattered. He looked at the little girl, then slowly raised his eyes to Tessa, his voice hoarse.
"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"
Tessa found it kind of funny.
Even now, the first thing out of his mouth was, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Like if she'd just told him, everything would have been fine. Like the worst thing she'd done in three years was not letting him know ahead of time.
She didn't laugh—just looked at him, calm as ever, and asked,
"Where exactly was I supposed to tell you?"
Ethan's expression froze for a moment.
"The day of the accident, I was on the bridge. My car got hit and went over the grardrail, and I vanished. When I finally woke up, I was already somewhere far away," Tessa said, her voice steady like she was just laying out the facts, not digging up the past.
"When I woke up, I couldn't even remember my own name. How was I supposed to contact you?"
Someone in the crowd let out a quiet gasp.
Serena stood on stage, her wedding dress spread out at her feet, her face so pale it looked almost ghostly. She seemed like she wanted to step down, but didn't dare move—just stared at Tessa, the panic she'd been holding back now rising, layer by layer.