Chapter 4

4: 4

“Patrick, have you lost your mind?”

I went pale and rushed to the window.

Down below, traffic streamed past. My ring had vanished into it, gone without a trace.

Tilda drifted out a soft little line.

“I can't believe Celine cares this much about one ring...”

I turned and glared at her.

Of course I did.

How could I not?

Clarence had designed and made that ring for me with his own hands.

Patrick looked at me with total confidence.

“Celine, you know how sincere I am about you. Why do you keep testing me?”

“Does it really feel that good, watching me get jealous and worked up over you?”

“You're just taking advantage of the fact that I love you!”

“The wedding in a month is going to be simple. I need to file down that stubborn, awful temper of yours!”

His eyes were red as he said it.

As if he were the one being wronged by a simple wedding.

The man really did love playing the martyr.

“Celine, I know you're my best friend, but sometimes I have to say something to you.”

“Patrick's sincerity toward you is plain as day. You shouldn't let it go to your head like this!”

Tilda, pushing the stroller behind Patrick, paused as she passed me, offering the advice as if she truly meant it.

I gave a contemptuous little laugh.

“As if anyone wants his worthless sincerity!”

My words made Patrick's steps stop for a second.

He didn't turn around, but he said in a low voice,

“Celine, I bumped the bride price from the eighteen thousand eight hundred we agreed on up to twenty thousand. Isn't that concession enough?”

“Oh? Your concession is only worth two thousand?”

“It's not about the money...”

“Aren't you the one making it about money?”

“Anyway, once we're married your temper has to change. I'll teach you myself then!”

With that, Patrick flung his sleeve and walked off.

From the back, he looked pretty disappointed.

My mother recovered, and I went back to the old Gilbert estate to start preparing my mother-in-law's birthday banquet.

A month later, Clarence arrived at the foot of my building with the bridal car procession.

“Celine, open the door!”

“I've come to take you to the hotel!”

But the door stayed shut. No one answered.

Because my brother's wife had gone into labor today, and the whole family had grabbed their things and rushed to the hospital.

Patrick didn't know any of this. He assumed I was putting on airs and refusing to open the door.

His face changed at once, and he issued a serious warning.

“Celine, there are a lot of people here today. Do me the courtesy!”

“If you still won't open the door, I'll have the groomsmen force their way in!”

That pack of good-for-nothing friends he'd made his groomsmen had been itching for it.

The moment they heard him, they braced themselves to ram the door.

At that critical instant, the door across the hall opened.

Mrs. Lambert, past fifty, stared at the scene in front of her in bewilderment.

“What are you all doing?”

“We're here for the bride!”

“This family only has one daughter, and she got married a year ago. Whose bride are you here to pick up?”

“Married?”

The smile froze on Patrick's face.

“That's impossible. I haven't married her yet. Who else could she have married?”