Beckett smirked, eyes flicking toward Serina with wicked glint.
"I think that sounds like a good idea!"
Before the words had even faded, he reached for the waistband of her pants.
"Hey! Stop it!"
Serina laughed as she dodged him—her movements were light, playful, but not firm.
Suddenly, Beckett slipped, and Serina instinctively reached out to catch him.
The two of them toppled together, collapsing in a tangled heap on the soft grass.
In the chaos, Serina's skirt was pushed up to her waist.
Beckett held her tightly by the waist, his other hand possessively covering her exposed thigh.
Their eyes locked, and heat rose between them.
Neither had the slightest intention of letting go.
The crowd's deafening cheers of "Be together!" cut into me like knives, stabbing again and again until my heart was nothing but shredded flesh.
At that moment, I was no different from those pathetic husbands in movies—watching from the shadows as their wives nestled into another man's arms.
Beside me, Claire's face had gone pale with fury. She was about to storm forward, but I quickly reached out and stopped her.