âBrilliant!â Beckham exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he tightened his grip on Cheriseâs hand. âDo I look alright? First impressions are important, especially when meeting your aunt, your momâs sister.â
âYou look fantastic. Absolutely dashing,â Cherise assured him, a warm smile spreading across her face.
Seeing Beckham like this, any flicker of resentment that Gwenn had ignited in Cheriseâs heart sputtered and died.
No matter how he treated her, Cherise knew deep down that Beckham still held her mother dear. Her mother had passed away years ago, yet her fatherâs anxiety about meeting her family was evident.
Perhaps his awkward attentiveness was just another layer of grief.
Beckham had barely taken a few steps when he abruptly stopped, spinning around as if he had remembered something. Gwenn remained rooted to the spot, her face unreadable.
Beckham furrowed his brow, a hint of annoyance flashing across his eyes. âGwenn, come on. Letâs meet your motherâs relatives.â
Gwenn lifted her gaze, her voice monotone. âShe was your wife, not my mother.â
With that, she shrugged nonchalantly. âI wonât intrude on your family reunion. I promised the editor some interesting material, and the camera needs some action.â
As Gwenn reached for the doorknob, Beckhamâs voice cut through the air. âDonât go. Come with us.â
He glanced at her outfit, a glittering, barely-there ensemble, with distaste. âCherry said her aunt has a similar body type. Maybe you can borrow something from her.â
Gwennâs face drained of color. âNo way! Iâll buy my own!â
Being the practical person he was, Beckham gave her a firm nudge towards the stairs. In his mind, Gwennâs fashion sense was a ticking time bomb. What if she showed up in something even moreâ¦
inappropriate? It would be safer to go upstairs with Gwenn.
Knowing that Cheriseâs sister was not known for being a party animal, Beckham assumed her wardrobe would be more subdued compared to Gwennâs sequin-filled chaos.
Going upstairs to Priscillaâs closet seemed like a strategic move for damage control. With her middle-
aged tastes, she wouldnât disappoint Beckham.
But that was just an excuse.
In his heart, Gwenn and Cherise were his daughters, deserving a place at this family gathering.
Ever since Cheriseâs return, Gwenn had been a distant presence. Beckham longed to bridge the gap, hoping this reunion would mend their fractured bond. He didnât realize that the divide ran deeper than any wardrobe choice.
No matter how hard he pushed, Gwenn couldnât fill the void reserved for Cherise.
Upon reaching the third floor of the Quinell familyâs guest hall, Lyra sought comfort in Priscillaâs arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Upon seeing Damien and Cherise, accompanied by two children and two strangers, Lyra quickly composed herself, extricated herself from Priscillaâs embrace, and greeted, âHey, Cherry.â
Cherise responded softly, then turned to Priscilla and said, âAunt, let me introduce you. This is my husband, Damien. The two children beside him are ours. The older one is named Soren, and the younger one is Serafina.â
âMeet my dad, who was also my late mother Charisa Nellerâs husband, Beckham. And the woman next to him â my adopted sister, Gwenn.â
Gwenn maintained a smile on the surface, but inside, she was seething. Damn it!
With her usual grace and a hint of a smirk, Cherise introduced Gwenn as âcurvaceous,â the word hanging heavy like an unwelcome guest.
It was a subtle jab that landed with a dull ache, a reminder of the insecurities Cherise always seemed to know how to exploit.