Chapter 267: Who Is Qualified

Chapter 267: Who Is Qualified

(Sophia POV)

I was about to turn back when something caught my eye near the side door of the hall. The gap was narrow, barely showing what was outside. But my gaze lingered there for a second. Then I looked away and picked up my wine glass.

Chloe leaned over and asked quietly, "Sophia, what were you looking at?"

I took a sip and put the glass down. "Nothing."

I paused.

"Just thinking... some people are standing in the wrong place and still haven't figured it out."

Chloe followed my gaze. Outside the side door was pitch black—nothing to see.

"Is someone there?"

"No one." I looked away and clinked my glass against Chloe's. "Let's go, your mom's watching you from over there."

Chloe turned to look. Laura was standing by the dessert table, making eyes at her. "Oh no, she's definitely going to drag me over to meet some rich guy." Chloe groaned and headed toward Laura, holding up her dress.

I stayed where I was, looking down at the bracelet William had given me. The silver chain gleamed softly under the lights, the three small gems resting against my pulse, beating steadily.

Laura didn't go to Chloe. Her attention was on something else—my wrist. She'd watched the whole thing when William put the bracelet on me. He'd bent his head, his fingers working the clasp twice, unhurried, like he was doing the most natural thing in the world.

Laura held her wine glass, the corner of her mouth curving up. She turned to look at Quinn beside her.

Quinn was chatting with an older gentleman, completely oblivious to his wife's expression.

Laura tugged his sleeve and said quietly, "Did you see that? Just now."

Quinn looked confused. "See what?"

"William putting the bracelet on Sophia."

Quinn thought about it. "It's a welcome gift, that's normal."

Laura almost rolled her eyes.

"When have you ever seen him buy jewelry for anyone? Last time on my birthday, he just threw a card at me, didn't even bother with a gift box. And today he's buying bracelets and putting them on himself—you think that's normal?"

Quinn was silent for two seconds. He glanced over at William in the distance. William was standing next to me. I don't know what we were talking about, but whenever I looked down and smiled, William's eyes never left my face. Quinn looked away and grunted.

"My son has good taste."

I heard all this but pretended I didn't. Not because I didn't want to hear it, but because I didn't dare acknowledge it. If I did, I'd have to face that question—what exactly does William feel for me?

What I feared wasn't the answer itself, but that once I knew it, I could never pretend not to know again.

Hannah saw it too. Not just William putting the bracelet on me, but also the watch on William's wrist.

That watch was from me, sent through Chloe last month. There was an engraving on the back.

Hannah looked at my wrist, then at William's wrist, a subtle smile in her eyes.

She turned to Simon. Simon said nothing, just patted the back of her hand. After decades of marriage, he knew exactly what that expression meant.

On the second-floor corridor, Noah leaned against the railing, looking down at the scene in the hall.

His gaze paused on William. William stood beside me, the distance between us neither too close nor too far, but his body was tilted slightly toward me—a detail most people wouldn't notice. Noah noticed.

William's concern for me wasn't ordinary. He'd known that for a while now.

In the corner, Owen stood at the edge of the crowd, hands in his pockets.

Chloe had said there was a small box in his right pocket, blue velvet, even smaller than William's. Inside was a brooch he'd found in an antique shop half a month ago—silver, shaped like a leaf, simple and understated. Perfect for me.

He'd planned to give it to me quietly when there were fewer people around. But just now he'd stood there watching William bend down and loop the bracelet around my wrist, one circle at a time. The gesture was so natural, so natural it seemed like there was already some kind of understanding between us.

Owen pulled his hand out of his pocket. The box was still inside.

He picked up a glass of water from the nearby table and took a sip. Not because he couldn't swallow, but because there was no point anymore. He knew where he stood. A senior. A friend. Someone who'd shielded me from the wind. But not someone who could stand beside me and put something on me. That position wasn't his to take.

He put his right hand back in his pocket, then let go and walked toward the bar. His retreating figure wasn't exactly lonely, but light, as if he'd set down something he'd been carrying for a long time.

The band changed songs. The strings gave way to a waltz, the rhythm gentle, the lights dimming slightly. This was a traditional part of the evening—the social dance. Several young men started walking toward me almost simultaneously.

The first was Tobias's son, holding his wine glass with a gentlemanly smile. "Ms. Parker, may I have this dance?"

The second was a real estate heir, half a step ahead of the Glenn family. "This song suits you perfectly."

The third person had just opened his mouth when William was already in front of me.

He extended his right hand, palm up.

"Sophia, dance?"

The faces of the men around us changed. William didn't look at them. His eyes were only on me.

I looked at his outstretched hand and hesitated for less than a second.

I was about to raise my hand—

"Fiona."

Noah's voice came from the direction of the stairs.