His expression shifted, confused, uncertain. "Sydney… Are you… married?"
She looked down, startled. "Oh, this," she said, fiddling with the band. "I forgot to take it off. I wouldn't want people asking too many questions."
Derek didn't speak. He stared at her, as if trying to process a truth he never imagined.
She could almost hear the heartbreak in the stillness between them.
Someone had got there first.
Derek had harboured a quiet crush on Sydney since their university days. Through shared ideas, group outings, and late-night study sessions, he had always hoped, prayed even, that someday, Sydney might look at him differently. Not as a friend. But as someone who could mean more.
Yet, that day never came.
To Sydney, Derek had always been a gentle friend. The reliable shoulder. The one who listened without judgement.
She trusted him with her secrets, her fears, even her dreams, but not this one. Not the marriage. Not even Helena, her sister, knew. Only her five-year-old daughter had been told. And even that conversation had been painted gently, like a fairy tale.
"So tell me," Derek asked softly, masking the ache in his voice, "did you really get married… Or is this just a clever way to scare off suitors?"
Sydney avoided his eyes and gave a small laugh. "Please, sit. Let me get you some water before we dive into that ocean; we have all day, don't we?"
Derek hesitated, his heart clenching with disappointment, but he obeyed. He sat down in the chair by the window, the same way he would follow her obediently during long college breaks, laughing about nothing.
Sydney returned moments later and handed him a glass of water, her smile warm but distant.
"You've grown into a full-blown man, Derek," she teased, trying to lighten the air.
He offered her a faint smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Your mom must be thrilled to have you back."
Derek chuckled lightly. "Over the moon, as always."
As the only son of the Smith family, Derek's mother had never wanted him to leave. But his father had pushed for it. A visionary man who believed passion should lead, not tradition. While Derek's sister had taken up the family business, he had followed his calling into medicine.
Sydney glanced at the wall clock. "It's almost two pm. Let's go pick up Michaela from school, then head out for lunch. We can talk more about the wedding there."
Meanwhile, at Forbes Corporation, Dan barged into Zeke's office without knocking.
Zeke didn't look up. "People knock before entering spaces that aren't theirs," he said, voice low and gravelly.
Dan grinned. "Come on, I thought we shared everything. Since when am I a stranger?"
Zeke didn't reply. His eyes remained on the documents before him, pen scratching across the page. He knew Dan had only come to stir up conversation; gossip was his forte.
"You didn't call me this morning," Dan went on. "So… how did it go? Is she beautiful?"
Zeke finally lifted his gaze. "Of course she's beautiful. Do you think my mom would bring me an unattractive woman to marry?"
Dan laughed. "Touché. So? What did you two talk about?"
"Nothing," Zeke replied flatly. "There was nothing to say."
Dan sighed, shaking his head. "I already feel bad for her. You're such a joy-killer."
"You know why I agreed to this. It's for my mother. I'll take care of Sydney and her daughter, but don't expect me to share a bed with her. I don't like people in my space; the house I bought has enough rooms in it."
"You're not going to sleep with your wife?" Dan asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
"I'm not interested."
Dan leaned back and groaned dramatically. "How did I end up best friends with a statue?"
Zeke's jaw tightened at the jab, but Dan wasn't finished.
"You didn't look uninterested in sex five years ago."
The room fell silent. A shadow passed over Zeke's face.
"That was a mistake," he said quietly. "I didn't plan for it. I was drunk. I didn't even see her face or know her name. Why would I want my first time to be with a stranger and in that condition?"
That night had haunted him for years. He had left behind one thing: a gold ring, slipped onto her finger while she slept. It was his only act of atonement, however insufficient it was.
He never spoke of it, never asked the hotel staff. The risk of scandal was too great.
Dan watched his friend quietly for a moment. "So… when is she moving in?"
Zeke sighed. "She mentioned the weekend."
Dan smirked. "You can do better than this, Zeke. She has a child. Helping them settle in, being there, that's the least you can do."
Zeke picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts, intending to text Sydney. His fingers paused mid-air.
"I don't have her number," he muttered.
Dan stared at him, then broke into laughter. "You married a woman, and you didn't even get a phone number from her?"
Zeke dropped the phone back onto the desk and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed.
"She's a stranger, Dan. A complete stranger. She may be my wife now, but only by the book."
"Don't you have work to do? Please leave my office," Zeke said dryly.
Dan grinned. "Always a pleasure, sunshine." And with a mock salute, he turned on his heel and left, laughter trailing behind him like perfume.
Alone again, Zeke leaned back in his chair, Dan's words echoing in the back of his mind. After a moment of hesitation, he picked up his phone and messaged the one person who could solve his problem.
Zeke: "Mom, I need Sydney's number."
Mom: "Silly boy. Without me, you would die a lonely old man."
Zeke groaned, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Why did I even bother asking…?"
But moments later, a message came through, Sydney's number, accompanied by a firm instruction:
Mom: "Save it to your contacts. Immediately."