In short, Mr. Smith looked utterly unconvinced.

"She is, in fact, my wife."

Timothy repeated the words, his gaze steady and earnest.

Mr. Smith had known Timothy for a decade. He was well aware that Timothy wasn't the type to joke about such things.

So, despite his surprise, he had no choice but to believe that the beautiful young woman really was Timothy's wife.

"Tim, you're a lucky man to have such a beautiful wife. Congratulations."

A faint smile tugged at Timothy's lips.

Before anyone could say more, their attention was drawn by a commotion from

Larkin's group.

"It's wrapped up so tightly-it almost looks like a painting."

to be

too. After all, it's a gift for Larkin no one would show up with something

rolled her eyes. Jessica, bring a masterpiece?

making such a show of

pang of disappointment tugged at Sheila's

let out a cold snort. "If you're going to bring a gift, just bring it—no need for all this mystery. Let's hope it's actually impressive, or this will

on,

had prepared for his grandfather, but he'd seen her intricate paper-cutting before. He'd even dropped hints to his grandfather about wanting one of her pieces. He had a hunch: this had to be

said, "Jessica,

barely glanced at the gift. He didn't really care about presents —he just recognized the handiwork of her late grandmother and wanted to meet

covering the frame. Beneath it was a beautifully mounted

mounting it, she'd had the shop paste the delicate cut-out onto fine art paper, so

banquet hall fell

his reading glasses, he bent

sure this isn't

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