Chapter 147 Wedding Part II
Everyone at this wedding knew each other—which made what happened next even messier.
Nason bristled at her words. "Could you watch your damn mouth for once? Worthless widow!"
"Who are you calling names? What's your problem?"
"You literally just introduced yourself that way, you fool!"
Natalia loved Marvel comics. Back in middle school, she'd introduced herself as Black Widow in class, but later decided she hated the nickname and forbade anyone from using it.
Natalia hadn't expected Nason to be so brutally direct—zero class whatsoever. Her temper flared. "You—you're the fool!"
"Don't think I don't know you've got a thing for Wentworth." Nason's eyes glinted with malice. "But seriously, you think you have a shot? Small head, thick body, stubby legs—and don't think we forgot about that flat nose before you got it fixed."
"You—you—you..."
Natalia was spoiled, sure, but she was still a socialite who'd never been verbally attacked like this before. She fired back, "Don't think I don't know you two brothers have always wanted to be like the Gonzaga family brothers. You could have two more lifetimes and still never measure up."
Nason didn't even flinch. If anything, he looked unbothered. "Yeah, I know."
Natalia spun on her heel, fuming. "I'm going right in there to tell everyone you two were having a little rendezvous out here!"
Matilda stayed silent. This was an absolute disaster. She shouldn't have stuck around watching this drama unfold. She turned to head back inside too.
Nason watched her retreat, his lips curving into an involuntary smirk.
Since she was attending a wedding today, Matilda wore a fitted white dress that hugged her slender waist. As she walked, her hips swayed with each step—undeniably sexy. Nason had been with plenty of women, and in his experience, Matilda's figure was absolutely top-tier.
...
Matilda returned to her seat. The guests who'd been clustered around Grandpa had dispersed back to their own tables. She apologized to her grandfather, saying she'd just stepped out to clear her head.
Holden didn't scold her. Taking a breather was perfectly normal—nothing worth making a fuss over.
Meanwhile, Natalia stared at the photos on her phone, unsure who to gossip to. She glanced at Matilda in the distance, deep in conversation with Holden. If she went to Holden with this, would he even believe her?
She looked toward the hotel entrance where Amelia was greeting guests. Going to tattle now seemed inappropriate, right? Don't air dirty laundry in public—even if there was tension between mother and daughter-in-law, nothing dramatic would happen at a time like this.
She decided to send the photos to Juliana instead, typing quickly: [Look at Matilda getting all cozy with some guy in the garden. Shouldn't you tell Amelia?]
Juliana was currently beside Amelia, who was too busy greeting guests to check her phone. Once most guests had arrived and they returned to the main table, Juliana finally pulled out her phone.
She saw Matilda and a man in the garden, mid-conversation.
Juliana had studied psychology and understood body language. She examined the image carefully—Matilda's posture read as guarded, defensive even, while the man was clearly the one doing the pursuing.
She replied: [This is baseless speculation. There's no evidence they're 'getting cozy.' Don't spread rumors.]
Natalia's response came fast and furious: [Now that you've made Amelia your godmother, you're taking their side. I'm done being friends with you.]
Juliana sent back a smiling emoji.
...
Outside the hotel, the wedding car pulled up slowly.
First came the groom. Charles usually wore suits, and today was no exception—but with stage makeup and a large red boutonniere pinned to his lapel, the effect was different. His commanding presence made him look like some CEO from a fashion magazine about to chair a very important meeting.
Soon after, the bride was helped out of the car by Mr. Turner.
The emcee announced the bride's entrance.
As the wedding theme music swelled, Zoey walked down the aisle with Mr. Turner's hand in hers.
The moment Charles saw Zoey, something shifted in his expression. His eyes brightened and his lips quirked upward involuntarily.
His little chipmunk, wrapped in all that white lace and tulle. The sight made him want to peel away the layers and take a bite.
Charles paused, startled by his own thoughts. Too inappropriate. And this was at a wedding, no less.
His mind flashed back to that night when he'd suddenly embraced her from behind. In that moment, he'd admittedly imagined she was someone from his past. But when she'd asked him to carefully consider whether to go through with the marriage, he hadn't needed to think twice.
That question didn't require consideration.
He'd decided to marry, so he was going to marry. Zoey was Zoey—not anyone's substitute. He knew exactly who he was marrying. Going forward, he would fulfill his duties as a husband and treat her well.
Before long, Zoey had reached him. She seemed shy today, first glancing up at him, then lowering her head. Since that night, she hadn't seen him for days. Since he'd said the wedding wasn't canceled, she'd go through with it.
Still, these past few days had been nerve-wracking. She worried he'd suddenly change his mind, worried their married life wouldn't be what she hoped for. So seeing him now, she felt both shy and anxious.
Then a large hand clasped hers firmly.
She looked up again to see Charles's mature, handsome face. His gaze was unwavering, steady. The moment he took her hand, all her doubts vanished.
She let him lead her toward the ceremonial platform.
What followed were the standard rituals—the officiant playfully teased them, they exchanged rings and made their vows. Through sickness and poverty, disaster and all, to never part.
When it was Charles's turn, he said without hesitation that he would.
Relief and joy flooded through Zoey. Tears streamed down her face as the reality of it all sank in.
Watching from below, Matilda felt genuinely happy for Zoey.
After the ceremony ended, guests began eating. Wentworth, who'd served as best man, slipped into the seat beside Matilda. Under the table, he quietly laced his fingers through hers.
"How about we have a wedding ceremony too?"
Matilda's instinct was to refuse. "I don't want to."
She didn't like being in the spotlight. Besides, Wentworth had already given her more than enough to make her heart certain of his love. If that was the case, why go through all these formalities?
And he was so busy—coming home once wasn't easy, and he'd have to return to base in a few days. Rather than exhausting themselves with wedding planning, they'd be better off spending quality time together as a couple. Talking. Doing those intimate things married couples do.
If they got too worn out from wedding prep, they wouldn't be in the mood for anything fun.
Zoey also took a seat at the main table. The moment she sat down, she exclaimed, "I'm starving! Absolutely famished—I didn't even eat breakfast!"
Holden chuckled warmly at her candor.
Amelia doted on her too, ladling out a bowl of soup. "It's such a happy occasion—don't talk about dying or anything like that. Drink some hot soup first to settle your stomach."
Matilda realized Zoey would need to make toasts soon, and drinking soup directly would smudge her lipstick. She was about to grab a straw from the table when Juliana beat her to it, swiftly pulling one out and handing it to Zoey.
"Use a straw. That way you won't have to go touch up your lipstick later."