“Yes,” he said smoothly. “I am married. And this is my wife, Janet.”
Every pair of eyes at the table turned to me. For a second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. But then I straightened my back, took his hand, and let him pull me closer to the table.
“Wow,” Henry said, smiling. “You’re stunning, Janet.”
Paul stood and gave me a quick side hug. “Christ Rowan, you’re one lucky man. Why didn’t you tell us you married such a beautiful lady?”
Their compliments felt hollow, meaningless. I smiled politely though my mind was somewhere else, drowning in everything I’d just heard.
“Isn’t it said that the more precious the pearls, the more they should be hidden?” Rowan suddenly remarked, his tone soft as he looked at me.
I blinked, feeling my heart race as the words finally sank in. The other two laughed, their voices a blur in my ears.
That’s when I noticed Flora. Her expression had been tense ever since I arrived, her face drawn, her eyes flickering between us.
“But you told me didn’t you Rowan? ” Flora said, casually reaching for the bottle of Leroy Les Charmes, as if nothing had happened.
“He sent an invitation, but I couldn’t come to his wedding—because I was busy with my own.” She shrugged, and the others exchanged surprised glances.
Her words hit me like a punch. My heart skipped a beat, and my eyes darted to Rowan. He was calm, too calm, his focus on his plate as if this was just another meal.
“He did? And you two got married so close to each other?” Paul asked, his jaw nearly hitting the table.
I forced myself to remain composed, throwing a questioning glance at Rowan, who returned it with a look just as unreadable.
He stayed silent for a moment, took a sip of tea, and then looked at us with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just a coincidence, guys. There are only a few good days for weddings each year. I didn’t even send the invitations myself—my grandmother handled it. I think she’s just getting old and a little careless. If you really want to celebrate, we can do it for our tenth anniversary.”
Paul and Henry laughed, making more comments about how great our relationship must be.
I lowered my head, the words ringing in my ears like a sick joke.
Liar.
Someone who can’t even remember our third anniversary is talking about a tenth?
Why did he lie?
If Flora’s words were true, then Rowan must’ve rushed into marriage right after her wedding. Was it out of anger? Jealousy? Did he resent her for choosing someone else?
I stared at him, searching for answers in his calm demeanor. Was our marriage his way of spitting her? Or was it something else entirely?
Paul clapped his hands. “Oh, Rowan! You really changed a lot after getting married, hey Janet, I hope my friend has not stressed you too much.”
I smiled faintly, playing along. “Oh, no. Rowan’s a sweet husband,” I said, though the words felt heavy on my tongue. Rowan reached for my hand, rubbing it softly, his touch warm but distant.
Henry nudged Rowan’s shoulder and said, “Before you two got here, we were talking about kids. My boy’s a handful right now. I keep telling you guys, five-year-olds are little devils…” He chuckled before turning to Rowan. “So, Rowan, since you’ve been married for three years now—any plans for kids?”
My heart skipped a beat.
Rowan paused, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, holding my hand, he smiled and said, “I think children are a blessing. A little life has endless possibilities.”
He looked at me, his gaze softening, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “As for us… maybe we’re not blessed enough right now. But I’d love to have a child with the woman I love, if she’s ready.”
My pulse quickened. Could he really mean it? Did Rowan actually feel that way, or was he just pretending for his friends, like he always had before?
If he knew I was carrying our child, our little life, would he be happy?
The thought made my lips curl into a small, uncertain smile.
Just then, a charming waiter brought our dish of tuna tartare, and the conversation shifted smoothly from kids to sports, politics, and business.
But I couldn’t help but notice Flora. Her expression had grown increasingly gloomy. It was as if she were drifting out of the conversation, and for some reason, she looked… disappointed.
“Are you alright?” I hesitated before asking quietly.
She sniffed suddenly, and the room fell silent, all eyes turning toward her. Rowan immediately looked at her, his face softening with concern.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
Flora’s hand went to her mouth, and she started to cry. “I’m sorry, I just…” She choked on a sob. “Seeing you all here, so happy, makes me want to cry.” Her voice faltered. “If my husband were here too…” She trailed off, then burst into tears again.
Rowan placed one arm over Flora’s shoulder and handed her another tissue from his breast pocket.
She leaned into his embrace, her sobs quieting as she buried her face in his chest.
