The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

Chapter 2102

A shiver of ice threaded its way through Cicely's being, chilling her to the core. She rose from his embrace, her freshly dried hair cascading over her shoulders. Her natural, uncolored locks made her complexion appear even more luminous. "What are you getting at?"

Seth stared at her with an inscrutable gaze, his dark eyes betraying none of their secrets.

"I want to be with you, in every way possible. We should live under the same roof, sleep in the same bed, and Hugo should call me Dad and you Mom. We should be a family, officially. So..."

He paused, then continued, "Can we get married? Will you marry me? Can I marry you?"

Cicely blinked, momentarily lost for words. Her mind was a whirl of kitchen knives, blood, and emergency rooms.

"I don't want to wait anymore." Seth's tone was even. "So is it true that if I pay back Issac's life, you'll agree to marry me?"d2

Cicely stared at him for a long time, wanting to scoff, but her lips merely twitched. "Am I going to marry a dead man?"

Seth pressed his lips together, "Let's have the wedding first."

"Have the wedding and then have me play the grieving widow? I'm telling you, Seth, that's not happening. If you die, I'll move on with Hugo and remarry immediately."

A shadow crossed Seth's brow, a chill creeping into his gaze. "Try remarrying, and see what happens."

"What does it matter to you if you're dead?"

Seth let out a cold laugh, "If you dare remarry, I'd turn the underworld upside down just to come back and find you."

Cicely caught her breath, instinctively inhaling sharply. "You're insane." Anger turned her face ashen, her breathing uneven.

Seth simply pulled her close, guiding her to sit on his lap. "So, did you just agree to marry me?"

Cicely furrowed her brows, "Are you dreaming?"

"Weren't you talking about remarrying?"

Cicely hesitated, "Were you serious just now?"

Seth's voice was husky as he kissed her cheek, "Yeah, I want to marry you."

Cicely looked down, her delicate face tense, "I was talking about Issac!"

Seth didn't reply, burying his face in the crook of her neck with a soft "hmm."

Pushing his hands away, Cicely drew back. "That's enough."

Seth watched her impassively, his voice deepening, "Enough of what?"

"I said it's enough." she reiterated coldly. "You win, okay? I can’t stand to see you hurt or dead. The thought of you in surgery had me scared to death. Is marriage what you want? Fine, I’ll marry you."

"Damon says the most important thing in life is to be comfortable. Grandpa says the dead will never be as important as the living. Everyone thinks I'm being melodramatic, tossing and turning until I nearly lose you to know fear. They all live so freely and clearly, each one convinced that you love me more than anyone else, dropping hints left and right to make me let go.

"Yes, they’re right. I'm being ridiculously sentimental. I’m holding on to my righteousness too tightly."

Seth listened quietly, his hand soothingly stroking her back, his expression calm. "Though I dislike others meddling in our affairs, and even less so that you were persuaded by them to be with me, I'm still grateful. As long as there's a reason for you to be with me, no matter who says it or what they say, I'll accept it."

Cicely clenched her fist.

Seth looked up at her, "When you said you still loved me, I was happy, but that was all. You loved me three years ago, yet you still left me. Now, I just want you with me. I don't expect your love; my love for you is enough. But if your love for me is a reason for you to stay, that's all I could ever ask for."

She closed her eyes as her lashes trembled slightly. He'd said too much. More than once, he expressed his determination to be with her.

Before, he would never speak of it, but now, he feared she wouldn’t understand. Some of the words were so honest that one would love them and hate them.

She said she loved him, and to him, it was just a pleasant thought. If he only said pretty words, it wouldn't be him, and she wouldn't believe it.

Honesty often grates.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Cicely continued, "I'm new at this, not as enlightened as they are. Right or wrong, stubborn or obsessive, it's fair for them to point things out. But it's not like I have to agree with everything they say.

“It's not about forgiveness. I don't pity you, nor am I compromising because you're relentless. I don't have time for convoluted thoughts. I simply want to. I want to make my life better. I still love you, and I won't fall for another man. I can't share a bed with another man, let alone... you know. I don’t want to live like a widow at such a young age. You're rich, powerful, capable, and you love me to death. By being with you, I have everything to gain."

"Get married?" Cicely echoed, then nodded. "If you take good care of me, provide for me, and can handle my tantrums and mood swings, then I'll marry you."

Seth's caressing hand paused. Cicely looked at him, "What? Can't do it?"

His eyes darkened, "That's it?"

"That's what?"

"Keeping you happy, affording you, and handling your mood swings."

Cicely raised an eyebrow, "Not enough?"

He pulled her close, his voice muffled against her neck. "Ask for more. Demand more. Otherwise, I won't feel secure."

"I'll think of more later. If you’re insecure, then don’t marry me. Let go. I want to sleep."

Cicely reached out to push him, only to be held tighter. Seth's low, husky, dulcet voice coming from the crook of her neck. "I will."

"Oh, are you still bringing up Issac?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Then I won't marry you."

He hugged her tighter, "I won't mention him."

Cicely's gaze softened, "Let go, I'm tired."

Seth hesitated, then held her gaze without letting go, "You napped this afternoon."

"So?"

"You've been abstinent for two months. Do you need me to take care of you?"

Cicely stiffened, her face flushing a sudden red as she pushed him away and scrambled onto the bed. "I don't need it!"

"It's been two months..."

"I've been fine for three years. Get out, Seth. You're still injured, you must be out of your mind."

Seth turned and followed her, "I can find other ways to help you."

Cicely burrowed under the covers, her voice muffled but tinged with irritation. "If you say that again, get off the bed."

*

The next day, while Cicely was still nestled in the cocoon of sleep, the news of her impending marriage to Seth had swept across the internet like wildfire.

Ever since Seth had parked himself at her place, she rarely had the chance to make Hugo's breakfast. It wasn't that she was shirking her duties, but with Aunt Lana and Seth falling over each other to tend to Hugo, sparks flied, and she figured she might as well bow out. It meant more freedom for her.

When she awoke, Seth was nowhere to be seen. She stretched languidly, propped herself up against the headboard, and lazily reached for her smartphone on the nightstand.

When she skimmed through the news, her drowsy gaze sharpened at the sight of headlines blaring about her marriage to Seth.

She headed downstairs for a bite. Seth must have timed her descent perfectly, because the moment she appeared at the top of the stairs, there he was, waiting. "Take a seat in the dining room. Breakfast will be ready in two."

Sitting down, Cicely leaned on the table, watching Seth bring out breakfast from the kitchen. "Everyone online is talking about us getting married. Did you do this?"

"To ward off any hopeful contenders." Seth slid into the seat beside her, cracking an egg and peeling it for her. "You don't like it?"

She shook her head as she picked up her utensils, "Not at all."

Seth fed her the egg, bite by bite, until it was gone. Then she spoke up again. "Let's just get the marriage license sorted, no need for a wedding."

Seth's gaze darkened slightly, and he reached for a napkin, meticulously wiping his fingers. Silence settled over the dining room.

Cicely had finished her breakfast and set down her fork that Seth stood to clear the plates. Suddenly, she said, "Being together is what matters, right? It's just a formality. It's not that important."

Seth paused with the dishes in hand, waiting for her to finish. "They're the same wedding planners you hired back in the day, you know. They didn't think you found weddings unimportant then."

Cicely hesitated, not expecting him to move so fast, to have already contacted the wedding planners. "Back then, I was young and full of vanity. I wanted a wedding that was grand and exquisite to announce to the world I was marrying you. Now, I think…"

"Cicely," Seth cut her off, "no woman doesn't want a wedding."

She smiled, "Chloe didn't have one, did she?"

"You think Damon would let her miss out?"

She fell silent. She knew Damon adored Chloe. He'd rushed back for their engagement party, so of course, he wouldn't let her go without a wedding.

"I just don't want the fuss. Everyone knows we're getting married. We don't need a ceremony." Cicely was firm, her heart set against reliving imperfect memories that would force her to feign happiness.

"I've already started planning."

"Then cancel it." Her tone left no room for argument.

Seth was silent for a long while before finally conceding, "Okay."

He turned and walked back into the kitchen, his dejected figure stirring a bitterness in Cicely's heart, along with a twinge of guilt.

After a moment, she followed him into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "Let's go get the license first."

Seth tensed, his gaze fixed on the running water, silent.

"Once we have it, I'll move into our place." Her concessions, an obvious attempt to soothe him, were clear. "Did you wear out the bed set I bought back then?"

Finally, Seth found a clean towel, dried his hands, and turned to face her. "We'll buy new ones."

She smiled, "I'll shop for them."

It was rare for Seth to see Cicely smile like this in his presence, her eyes soft and filled with smile. He couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her nose, murmuring a low "mm-hmm."

*

In the afternoon, Seth took Cicely to get their marriage license. The entrance to the registry office was swarming with reporters. Their probing questions came fast and furious, with Danielle's name coming up more than once.

Charlie had sent people to protect Seth and Cicely, but the reporters were relentless.

"Mr. Diaz, congratulations on your wedding!"

"When and where will the ceremony be held?"

"Will the media be invited to the wedding?"

Few media outlets dared to cross Seth, and since they couldn't ask about Danielle, they stuck to the happy occasion. But Seth seemed somber, his face devoid of joy even though he'd just remarried Ms. Cicely and gotten what he wanted. In contrast, Cicely's face was alight with a subtle, happy smile.

"Thanks for the well wishes, but a ceremony isn't necessary for a remarriage."

"Ah, but back then, you didn't have a ceremony, did you?"

Cicely's smile didn't waver, "The wedding isn't what's important. What matters is that we're together."

The media turned to the silent Seth, finally realizing that he was genuinely unhappy. Sensing the mood, the reporters dispersed.

Online, the news of their license and the absence of a wedding spread far and wide. Many expressed their regret.

"I was looking forward to Ms. Cicely's wedding, expecting unparalleled luxury, a feast for the eyes, but it fell through."

"Didn't we all? A beautiful bride, and a handsome groom, just the thought is enchanting."

"I thought with them back together, a grand wedding was back on the cards, but the princess is saying no again."

"I heard her childhood bodyguard died saving her wedding dress. Maybe she's afraid of stirring up painful memories."

The conversation dwindled.

The details of what had happened back then were hazy, but it was a big deal, and it had cost someone their life.

*

Cicely didn't want to see Damon anytime soon.

Hugo wanted to see Chloe, Seth was at the office, and she had time to spare to visit Chloe. To bump into Damon, who should have been busy with business affairs, in broad daylight was just her

luck.

It was impossible to deny Damon's commanding presence. Years of navigating the high seas of corporate strategy had honed his ability to exert an overwhelming force whenever he spoke, especially around her, where his words seemed to bear down with an added intensity.

Chloe had raised this issue with Damon once, and his response was characteristically blunt. "Cicely's the type who's been coddled and praised her whole life. If you're all sweetness and light with her, she'll just assume you're supposed to fall in line. She's been spoiled rotten."

Chloe got it. Sugarcoating words for Cicely was less effective than laying out the stark choices: no way back, move forward or stand still.

Every time Cicely saw Damon, she wanted to bolt. Even married, she didn't think he would let her off the hook easily.

"Is is your choice about the wedding?"

"Do you even blush mentioning other people's weddings?" Cicely snapped, seizing the rare opportunity to take a dig at him.

"Is my business any of your concern?" Damon's voice was ice-cold.

Cicely pursed her lips and shot him a defiant look. "So could you maybe also stay out of my business? Whether I want a wedding or not, what's it to you?"

"And you think I enjoy meddling in your trivial affairs?"

Cicely retorted, "So what? My wedding is none of your concern, right?"

"A rotten apple that's about to fall from my tree desperately needs to be picked. You hold a wedding, and I'll hand it over."

Cicely scoffed, "So you want to offload that rotten apple onto me?"

"Useless to me, but apparently priceless to you. Are you sure you don't want it?"

Cicely should have countered Damon right away, yet his tone left her speechless. Few dared to question Damon's words, especially when he said something held "priceless" significance. She couldn't imagine anything in the world that held such meaning for her.

"Keep planning the wedding."

Cicely protested, "I don't want to."

Damon was unyielding, "I don't care what you want. I'm determined to get rid of that thing, and you're going to want it whether you like it or not." All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Cicely sneered, "What are you going to do? Chain me to the wedding venue?"

Damon glanced at her dismissively, "Want to try me?"

Cicely felt a lump in her throat. Then she watched, stupefied, as Damon called Seth—

"She's agreed to the wedding. Keep the arrangements going."

Cicely was speechless.

After hanging up, Damon tossed something at Cicely. It was a sleek, black pistol.

She was stunned.

"Seth's life might as well have been saved by me. You like to play with life and death, huh? Well, if you don't hold that wedding, I'll be displeased. If he can't do it, he can just give his life back to me. Saves me the trouble of looking at such a disappointing friend in the future."

Cicely felt lightheaded, "Is that really necessary?"

Damon's expression was unreadable, "Completely."

Chloe was in the corner, playing piano with Hugo, fully aware of the commotion in the living room but kept her amusement to herself.

Cicely stormed off, leaving the pistol on the coffee table.

*

Later that night, Seth asked her why she suddenly agreed to a wedding. Cicely's mood was erratic as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. "Curious about what kind of surprise Damon has in store." Each word seemed to be uttered with a bitter edge.

"The wedding doesn't need to be over the top. No need to go abroad. Let's have it in P City, Grandpa can't travel easily."

"Okay."

*

A month later, Seth was given a clean bill of health, and the wedding day finally arrived.

Most of the arrangements were to Cicely's liking from three years ago.

P City's largest hotel was booked out entirely. Every road was cleared from eight to midnight, though no one spoke of how it was done.

Cicely got up early, in a foul mood, and went straight to the bride’s dressing room at the hotel, flopping onto the bed to continue sleeping. She showed no signs of a bride-to-be. The makeup artists didn't dare to make a noise outside her room.

At ten, Cicely woke up, took a shower, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, and sat in front of the vanity mirror, stifling a yawn. The makeup artists hesitantly approached to do her makeup. Once done, they stood by, unsure of what to do next. They exchanged glances, seeming to convey a message.

Cicely frowned, stood up, clutching her robe, and asked, "Is that it?"

"The wedding dress hasn't arrived yet."

Cicely was speechless. She had no hand in this wedding, yet hadn't expected that everything would be meticulously planned except for, ironically, the centerpiece – her wedding dress.

The dress. Always the dress. Maybe she was never meant to have a wedding.

She closed her eyes. All the mental preparation she had done, the deliberate suppression of memories, including the regrets that felt even more poignant today, it all seemed to have been in vain as they came rushing back unbidden.

"Let's wait a bit longer. Mr. Diaz wouldn't have planned such an elaborate wedding to mess up the dress. Mrs. Diaz, relax."

As noon approached, Cicely grew increasingly restless and suffocated by the tense atmosphere.

Just as her patience ran out, there was a knock at the door.

The makeup artists lit up with hope, "It must be the dress." They hurried to the door and opened it.

"I'm sorry for the delay. May I ask..."

"It's Ms. Cicely's wedding dress. There's only Ms. Cicely and Mr. Diaz's wedding in this hotel today. You can't be wrong."

The makeup artist was frantic; time was running out.

"Alright, thank you."

Cicely, approaching the inner room, overheard the conversation and thought the man's voice sounded vaguely familiar, like...

Her heart clenched.

The memory of that man, protecting her without regard for his own life, grievously injured yet still looking for a wedding dress for her, and his apology as he lay bloodied, regretting his absence from her wedding, resurfaced in her mind.

He had promised her, after all.

She shut her eyes tightly, pushing down those memories. It couldn't be. It was probably just someone who sounded similar.

He would never show up at her wedding. He had already broken his word.

The makeup artist came in, carrying the wedding dress bag, beaming as if she were the bride. "Mrs. Diaz, the wedding dress is here, let's get you dressed."

Cicely opened her eyes, her expression neutral, and walked into the room first.

Makeup artists bustled into the bridal suite, their hands delicately cradling the wedding gown like a precious relic. They knew that the dress chosen for Mrs. Diaz's wedding would be extraordinary, but upon unveiling it, a collective gasp sliced through the air. It was breathtaking.

The dress was adorned with diamonds, draped with chiffon sleeves, traced with silver thread, the train cascaded down like a river of dreams.

"I swear, Mrs. Diaz is gonna be the most beautiful bride the world has ever seen," one of the stylists murmured, awe coloring her tone.

"This dress is a knockout."

"It's gonna blow everyone away."

Cicely managed a tight-lipped smile, feeling a twinge in her heart. She had heard such exuberant praise before, but now it seemed to lack the same joy. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the compliments; every woman did. But the slight tinge of regret was like a tiny hole through which chilled winds sometimes gusted, dispersing the warmth and romance.

Her gaze dropped to her reflection in the mirror, and she took a deep breath, curving her lips into a sweet, blissful smile.

“Cicely, everyone has regrets.” She told herself.

“Compared to others, you're marrying your love, a man who cherishes you more than life itself. You are, and will be, happy. Let the past be the past, along with its regrets. The ones who love you wish for your happiness. So you must be happy.”

She exhaled a long breath and turned to the makeup artist. "Can we..."

Her voice trailed off as her eyes fixed on the wedding dress being held aloft by two assistants. Her emotions fluctuated wildly from surprise to anger, to sorrow, to vulnerability, and finally to the brink of collapse. Each expression was a poignant testament to her inner turmoil.

Why did it have to be this dress? Did he think it best to cling to the standards of the past, or did he believe she loved this dress so much back then that he simply wanted to make her happy?

But he should know, this dress, for her, was nothing but a sorrowful memory. He couldn't have overlooked that.

"Ma'am." the makeup artist stuttered, taken aback by Cicely's distress.

Cicely snapped back to reality. She couldn't believe Seth would make such an arrangement, for their shared memories were even more significant to him.

But this was...

Her thoughts ground to a halt, her mind taut as a bowstring. After a long moment, she suddenly burst out of the room, clad only in her robe, flinging open the door of the hotel suite. There was no one in the corridor. The bride's room was arranged on an absolutely quiet floor.

The makeup artist chased after her, "Ma'am..."

Disappointment etched across Cicely's face, but at the sound of the makeup artist's voice, she turned, a mix of hope and agitation in her eyes.

"Who... who delivered the dress?" Her voice broke, heat rising to her eyes.

"I don't know him." the artist replied tentatively.

Cicely's eyes trembled. She stepped closer, gripping the artist's shoulders with a nervous urgency. "What did he look like?" In those beautiful, anxious eyes swirled boundless hope and excitement.

The makeup artist hesitated, fearing her words might crush Cicely's spirit, but she described the stranger as best as she could. "He was quite handsome, expressionless, probably not much of a

talker. Tall, with a straight posture, wearing a white suit."

Cicely's heart skipped a beat, her world buzzing, her legs nearly giving way beneath her.

A white suit...

"White suit..." she murmured, disbelief and overwhelming excitement fighting for dominance on her face as she slowly covered her mouth with trembling hands, her eyes misting over.

Could it be him? Was Issac still alive?

"Cicely..."

A puzzled voice floated from behind. Cicely turned to see a striking woman in a soft green sheath dress, her makeup light and refined, her figure delicate and graceful, her hair softly curled, radiating a calm elegance.

Upon seeing Cicely, tears welled in the woman's eyes and spilled over. Her lips quivered as she ran to Cicely and embraced her, burying her head in Cicely's chest, sobbing in a way that shook her poised image. "I hate you. Are you crazy? So many people worry about you, and you throw that away."

Cicely, still reeling from her own emotions, was touched by the woman's outburst but managed a soft chuckle. "You'll ruin your makeup."

"Emiliana," Cicely whispered her name.

Emiliana looked up, her eyes red and accusatory. "You haven't forgotten me."

Cicely smiled slightly. "Congratulations, you've become a renowned international actress."

In three years, everyone had grown. Just seven days earlier, at the International Pine Forest Film Festival, Emiliana had won the award for Best Actress.

Emiliana blushed slightly. "I would've been too ashamed to face you if you hadn't married Mr. Diaz."

Seth had been helping her. When domestic resources favored Danielle, Seth boldly recommended Emiliana overseas. He provided the learning and film resources, always supporting Emiliana from the shadows.

Despite her initial reservations about Seth, Emiliana couldn't let such an opportunity slip by. Now, with her swift acclaim, she had outshone even Danielle.

People claimed Seth favored Danielle, but Emiliana knew the chances Seth gave her far exceeded those he gave Danielle.

Cicely had a sense of what Emiliana meant, but even if she wasn't with Seth, she wouldn't hold such things against Emiliana.

"Ma'am, we really need to get you into your dress. We're running out of time." the makeup artist urged, thrilled to meet the international star but keenly aware of the pressing schedule.

Cicely's eyes flickered.

Emiliana pulled her back into the room. "I need to touch up my makeup too."

When Emiliana saw the wedding gown, she too was struck speechless. "This..."

Cicely's face was a mix of trepidation and nerves as her trembling fingers slipped off her robe. Her voice was tight, quivering with emotion as she spoke. "I don't know who sent this dress. He was handsome, dignified, a man of few words, dressed in a white suit."

As the makeup artists helped her into the gown, Cicely's voice struggled against the lump in her throat, her laughter tinged with the threat of tears.

"Back in the day, I made a pact with Issac. He was to don the white tuxedo I gifted him and attend my wedding. I told him that if he were absent, my disappointment would be immense, second only to the groom getting cold feet and making a run for it. He promised me that he wouldn't miss my wedding for the world. Emiliana, do you think… could it be him?”

Emiliana's face was a picture of shock, her hand flying to her mouth in disbelief. “You're saying he’s still alive?”

Cicely bit her lip hard, “If not him, then who?”

Her mind raced through every possibility. Issac had simply vanished all those years ago; no one had confirmed his demise. As the wedding drew near, Seth hadn’t even mentioned the wedding dress. Could he have been preparing something?

Damon had mentioned more than once that he had snatched another soul from the jaws of death. Could he have meant Issac too, alongside Seth?

He had also hinted at a surprise waiting for her on her wedding day, which would be meaningless to others, but to her, it carried extraordinary significance.

She had thought there would be nothing left in this world that could hold such meaning for her, but if it was Issac, everything would make sense. So, all of this couldn't just be a coincidence.

If that was the case, she felt she owed Damon a debt of gratitude so deep it could span generations.

*

Stunning.

Stunningly predictable, yet breathtakingly surprising.

The grand doors of the wedding hall opened slowly, and the bride beside Erik took everyone's breath away. She wore a dazzling wedding dress that shone without being ostentatious.

The Ellis family’s princess, her natural arrogance and grace, and that stunning face effortlessly overshadowed all the flamboyance and splendor.

Her figure was graceful, the train of her dress sweeping the floor, her features delicate and radiant.

Anya and Hugo, each with a little basket, scattered petals before her.

Seth stood on the stage in a sharp black suit, his demeanor cold and noble, his presence undeniable. His dark eyes locked onto Cicely the moment the doors opened and didn't waver. Even though they were already legally wed and only a few steps apart, his heart hung suspended, especially since Cicely’s eyes, upon entering, scanned the room as if searching for something urgently.

It was only after a gentle reminder from Erik beside her that she focused on Seth at the front.

She had always known he was handsome, striking right at her aesthetic sweet spot. And of course, others thought so too. But seeing him today, she couldn’t help the flutter in her heart.

She felt a bit foolish; they already had a child, and yet she was still ensnared by him.

This man was bewitching. After all, she was the one who had chosen him; how could she expect anything less?

As she approached, his gaze became clearer, filled with thick emotion, and she began to feel nervous. Before she could step up, Seth descended and took her hand. Only when he held her delicate hand securely in his did he feel some peace.

Cicely caught her breath, glanced at him, and lifted her dress to ascend the steps when Seth swept her into his arms.

Applause erupted below, accompanied by some good-natured hooting led by Kane.

Although being carried by him was nothing new, the context made her blush. Seth set her down but kept his hands on her waist.

He leaned in close, as if they were alone, and whispered, “You look beautiful today.”

Cicely’s eyes flickered, “Am I not usually?”

Seth’s lips twitched with a smile, “You are beautiful every moment.”

Feeling his earnestness, Cicely couldn't help but smile.

Looking down at the audience, she didn’t see the person she had hoped for in the front rows. Had she been wrong?

It couldn’t be, could it?

Her grip tightened, and disappointment layered upon her heart.

As the ceremony proceeded, her mind was elsewhere. The officiant was already prompting them to exchange rings.

Emiliana stepped up with the man's ring on a tray. Cicely, unfamiliar with the process, slipped the ring onto Seth’s finger. Her gaze lingered on the ring, her expression distant, her eyes involuntarily

drifting to his neck.

“From now on, I only wear it on my hand,” Seth said softly, noticing her focus.

Cicely pursed her lips, glancing down as Seth’s kiss landed on her cheek.

The crowd cheered, and Cicely, hand in hand with Seth, kept looking at the ring on his finger. Everything she had ever wanted was slowly becoming reality.

Now it was the groom's turn to place the ring on the bride.

From behind the stage, a man began to walk slowly forward. His features were handsome, his build tall and straight, with a warm smile on his face as he approached in a white tuxedo, the epitome of elegance.

Few recognized this low-profile man, and his arrival elicited only a smattering of gasps.

“Cicely,” Seth called softly, and she looked up at him.

Seth smiled and took a ring from the tray, lifting her left hand and sliding the ring on. She was in a daze as he kissed her hand, her fingers trembling slightly. Then, Seth picked up a watch from the tray and handed it to her.

It was familiar.

Cicely was puzzled.

“I stopped it. It stood still for three years while you were gone. Today, I hope you will restart it so that from now on, it will only record the days we are together. I won't allow it to stop again.”

Cicely blinked, nearly moved to tears by the unexpected warmth.

Emiliana whispered from the side, “No tears on a happy day, you’ll ruin your makeup.”

Holding back tears, Cicely's hands shook as she fitted the watch onto Seth's wrist and bent slightly to set the time.

“What time is it now?”

A gentle voice answered, “One-fourteen.”

“Thank you.”

Cicely set the watch and pressed the knob. The second hand made an almost inaudible click.

Emiliana chuckled softly, her voice teary. “Silly girl, how nervous can you get?”

Cicely pinched the sweat in her palm, glancing sideways at her friend with feigned denial. “Who’s nervous? It’s just a wedding.”

“Then you didn’t notice the big, living person standing right beside you?”

Cicely looked back at Seth, who had a faint smile in his eyes. “To be honest, I'm very happy.”

She frowned in confusion.

“Silly girl, look to the side.” Emiliana couldn't help but prompt.

Cicely turned her head instinctively, her gaze locking onto the man in the white tuxedo standing beside her. She froze, staring at his face for an eternity before blinking slowly.

The man before her was still there, with that familiar face and his gentle smile. "Miss, congratulations on your big day."

Cicely bit her lip hard, her eyes suddenly filled with a thick mist of teara. She was stunned, overjoyed, and then it all turned into a feeling of being wronged. "I knew it had to be you."

"I'm sorry. Although it was a close call, I'm here now. The groom's not going anywhere, and everything is okay. It's going to get even better from here on out. You're going to be happy forever."

Cicely nodded, and Emiliana by her side reminded her not to cry. She held it in, turned around with her arms wide open, bracing for a long-awaited embrace to return to. But then the man next to her suddenly swept her into his arms, pulling her close.

Cicely looked up at him through teary eyes. "What are you doing?"

Seth's face was a bit strained. Seeing her like this, he couldn't bring himself to speak harshly. He just tried to coax her with a soft voice.

"It's time for a kiss."

Cicely blinked. Right, there was such a tradition. She tiptoed up and gave him a peck on the corner of his lips, then turned back to look at Issac. But Seth took her chin and pulled her back, sealing her slightly parted lips with a deep kiss.

An abundance of fresh petals started to fall from above, showering the entire banquet hall. A rain of flowers filled the grand venue, unceasing.

Anya and Hugo were gleefully catching petals around them, everyone stood up, applause and cheers filled with joy and blessings floated up into the clear blue sky.

"I love you."

"I love you."