Her smile swept through the room, effortlessly dissolving the tension.
The group returned to their chatter and coffee as if Hazel’s silent suffering hadn’t even been there.
Ambrose’s gaze lingered on her, his heart heavy with the knowledge of how much this wedding meant to her, yet his hands were tied. He feared the disappointment that might flicker in her eyes.
With a quiet sigh, he pulled out a bank card, handing it to her with a soft, reassuring tone.
“Don’t worry about the cost. Whatever makes you happy, that’s what matters.”
Hazel hesitated for a moment, the card feeling like an invisible barrier between them as she accepted it, her gratitude simple but final.
That soft “thank you” hung in the air, a silent line drawn between them.
Ambrose’s chest tightened, discomfort swirling inside him, but the words to bridge that gap refused to come.
Scarlett watched them closely for a moment, then, ever the opportunist, retrieved a camera from the bedroom.
“Why don’t we take a family photo now? Tomorrow will be so chaotic that the pictures might not come out right.”