Melisa was choosing a suitable dress for the party when she heard a knock on the door. Without looking up, she called out, "Come in."
She assumed it was a servant bringing her refreshment. "I don't need anything right now," she said, turning her head—only to be startled when she saw her mother-in-law standing there.
"Aunt Eleanor!" She quickly stood up, feeling a little uneasy.
Aunt Eleanor's gaze fell on the few simple dresses spread across the bed. With a sigh, she shook her head. "I thought you might not have anything suitable for tonight. And I was right."
Melisa hesitated, glancing at her dresses. She had always preferred simplicity, blending in rather than standing out. But now, with the weight of her past memories, she realized she didn't just want to exist—she wanted to truly live. Yet, it was too late to go shopping for a new dress.
Aunt Eleanor smiled gently and placed a garment bag on the bed, clearing space for it. "That's why I prepared something for you. I had this dress made a while ago as a gift, but I never got the chance to give it to you. Now, it's perfect for your first appearance as the eldest Mrs. Soveir."
Melisa hesitated before running her fingers over the smooth, luxurious fabric. "Aunt, I don't—"
"It's my gift to you," Aunt Eleanor interrupted warmly, her tone firm yet affectionate. "Don't refuse."
Melisa bit her lip, struggling with the unfamiliar sensation of being cared for like this. Before she could protest, Aunt Eleanor continued, "Besides, this is your first banquet as Leonard's wife. You should be the spotlight, not some shadow lingering in the background."
Her heart clenched at those words. The wife of Leonard Soveir. A title she had never truly embraced. Was it worth dressing up for a role she might not hold much longer?
Still, under Aunt Eleanor's expectant gaze, she finally nodded. "...Thank you, Aunt."
Aunt Eleanor's smile widened, satisfaction clear in her eyes. "Good. I knew it would suit you."
Melisa sighed softly as she looked at the dress again. Maybe, just for tonight, she could allow herself to step into the light.
When Melisa came downstairs, Leonard was already waiting, dressed in a perfectly tailored maroon suit. His hair was neatly combed back, accentuating his sharp features. Standing there, casually leaning against the wall, he looked less like a businessman and more like a model straight out of a magazine.
The moment he saw Melisa, he froze.
She descended the stairs gracefully, wearing a tightly fitted maroon dress that accentuated her slender figure. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her waist in soft curls, framing her delicate features. But it was her warm hazel eyes—deep and mesmerizing—that held his attention, drawing him in like a silent spell.
They locked eyes, neither saying a word.
If anyone had been watching, they might have thought they were locked in a staring contest. But in reality, both were simply lost in each other.
The tension broke only when Aunt Eleanor entered the room, carrying a bowl of steaming porridge. She took one look at them and smirked playfully.
"What's wrong, Leo? Can't take your eyes off her?"
Leonard's gaze lingered on Melisa for a moment longer than necessary before he turned his head slightly, the tips of his ears tinged red. "It's just surprising," he said lightly.
If it were anyone else, they might not have noticed, but Aunt Eleanor knew her son well. Seeing the telltale redness, she raised a brow. "Surprising? Because she looks stunning?"
Leonard adjusted his cuffs, masking his reaction with feigned indifference. "Because she actually listened and dressed properly," he replied, as if trying to downplay his earlier embarrassment.
Melisa narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying I don't normally dress properly?" The silent challenge in her gaze was clear—if he dared to agree, he wouldn't hear the end of it.
Leonard raised his hand to his lips, covering a smirk. "You said it, not me."
Aunt Eleanor, watching their interaction, could no longer hold back her laughter. Feeling both pairs of eyes on her, she coughed lightly. "You should drink your soup before it gets cold."
Leonard shook his head, choosing not to argue further with his mother, while Melisa also remained silent, slightly embarrassed at her own childish behavior.
They took their seats at the dinner table, sipping from their bowls of steaming soup. A comforting warmth spread through their stomachs.
Leonard finished his bowl faster than Melisa and glanced at her. "If you keep drinking in such small sips, I'll have to wait all night."
Melisa shot him a look before quickly drinking the rest of her soup in one go.
Aunt Eleanor's worried voice broke the moment. "Slow down, or you'll choke!" She then turned to Leonard with a pointed glare. "And you—stop rushing her!"
Leonard loked helpless as if he was being bullied , while Melisa placed her bowl down, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
Aunt Eleanor sighed dramatically. "You two bicker like children. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were already an old married couple."
Melisa lowered her gaze, while Leonard cleared his throat, suddenly focusing on adjusting his cufflinks.
The air between them shifted slightly, an unspoken tension lingering for a moment before Leonard stood up. "Let's go."
Melisa followed, feeling Aunt Eleanor's amused gaze on her.