Soft lights and laughter filled the Corinthian Hotel's ballroom. With champagne towers, live music, gold-accented décor, and the heartfelt applause of friends, coworkers, and business associates, Michael had gone all out for the engagement celebration. But in spite of the extravagance, the main focus stayed on something straightforward and unadulterated: love found again.
Beside him, Lorna was wearing a flowing ivory dress that glistened in the light as she moved. As guests gave them heartfelt hugs and raised glasses in their honor, she appeared radiant—nervous but glowing. Jason proudly walked around telling everyone that he was the "ring boss," not just the ring bearer, while sporting a tiny tuxedo.
Michael smiled next to them, keeping his hand close to Lorna's. His moment was one of redemption rather than prestige.
Heather watched it all happen on the evening news, far away from the festivities, in a peaceful area of the city.
The glass of wine she was holding barely touched the table at the cafe. "Tech tycoon Michael Hudson and wellness consultant Lorna Jenkins celebrated their engagement in a glamorous event attended by top executives, artists, and political figures," the anchor said, her voice echoing over the speakers.
The screen was filled with a picture of Michael kneeling in a garden, Lorna smiling tearfully in the middle of a joke, and Jason holding a homemade sign painted in vibrant colors that read, "She said yes."
Heather's throat became constricted.
Michael had once asked her to marry him as well. It had been genuine even though it hadn't been as well-known or enchanted. Or she had believed it to be.
She recalled the instance when she had been hesitant to say yes. How she had convinced herself that she could shape the man she believed she desired. She could see it clearly now, though. Michael had required love, tolerance, and development, not molding. She had never given everything she had.
Sharp and sobering, the regret weighed heavily on her chest.
If love ever finds me again, she said in a whisper to herself. I'll approach it in a new way. I'll make a better decision. I'll get better.
At that moment, a man in a navy blazer entered the café next to her table and looked around. He saw her and smiled courteously as he walked up to her.
"Are you Heather Parker, please?"
Startled, she blinked. "Yes?"
He held out a hand and said, "I thought so." "My name is Daniel Moore. Rhys & Blake Investments is where I work. You posed a question during the leadership discussion at the panel last month, which we both attended."
"Oh," she said with a slight smile. "All right. Now I recall.
Daniel smiled sheepishly and said, "I hope this isn't too direct, but I've been meaning to ask. Would you be interested in getting coffee sometime? With a stranger who isn't attempting to sell you anything?
Surprised but flattered, Heather laughed. The sadness started to fade for the first time in weeks.
With a spark in her eye, she glanced down and then back up. Indeed. I believe I would enjoy that.
Heather found herself not comparing, not longing, but hoping as Daniel sat across from her and the conversation started to flow.
Love might not have been a closed chapter.
Perhaps—just possibly—it was being rewritten.