Chapter 4

Joseph's POV

Whitney's anger flared even hotter. "A blessing? Do you have any idea how guilty Kaiden felt all night after you liked that post? He kept apologizing to me, worried he'd given you the wrong idea."

It struck me as so absurd that I couldn't help laughing.

"Whitney, if Kaiden actually felt guilty, he'd be apologizing to me instead of putting on a show for you. Either way, you and I are already over. Whatever's going on between you two has nothing to do with me anymore. Whether he feels guilty or not is none of my concern," I scoffed.

Whitney glared at me, practically spitting the words through gritted teeth. "Fine, Joseph. You think you're so tough? Let's see how long you can keep this stubborn act up."

With that, she waved her hand and snapped at me to get out.

Yet less than ten minutes after I returned to my desk, a personnel-change announcement popped up in the company's internal group chat.

I was stripped of my position as Director of Project Management, and Kaiden took over the core project right out from under me—the very one I had spent the last six months slaving over, just when it was on the verge of launching.

As for me, I was demoted and reassigned to the back office, left to handle trivial administrative odds and ends.

When I looked at the words on the screen, my heart still gave a painful, involuntary twist.

Even though I had already made up my mind to resign, I still wanted to see my final project through to its launch before leaving. After all, it represented all the blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into my career so far.

I had thought that even if the feelings were gone, the bond we formed while building this company together still counted for something. But looking back, I realized it was just wishful thinking on my part.

Then again, maybe this was for the best. It allowed me to cut ties ahead of schedule.

I opened my laptop, and just as I finished typing my resignation letter, a message came in from Clara's assistant, Elena Parker.

"Mr. Gibson, Ms. Jensen mentioned that your wedding tuxedo has been tailored to your measurements. You can head over to the boutique after work to try it on. Please feel free to reach out if you need anything."

After clocking out, I left the office and headed to the bridal boutique using the address provided.

The store clerk greeted me warmly. "Are you Mr. Gibson? Ms. Jensen already called ahead. Your tuxedo is ready for you in the fitting room."

The tuxedo featured clean, sharp lines that perfectly accentuated my tall, elegant frame.

As I stood before the full-length mirror, looking at my reflection in the tuxedo, a flood of memories washed over me, completely beyond my control.

Whitney had once promised that as soon as the company stabilized, she would come with me to pick out a tuxedo and throw a wedding that would be the envy of everyone.

I had believed her. So I waited, year after year, watching my eager anticipation slowly fade into cold indifference.

A sudden sting hit the back of my nose, and tears slipped down my cheeks despite my best efforts to hold them back.

I wasn't crying for Whitney. I was mourning the man I had been—the fool who had blindly poured out his heart for seven long years.

Just then, the clerk's polite voice carried from the front of the boutique.

"Ms. Pearson, you're here."

My whole body froze, and I slowly turned around.

Whitney was standing at the entrance. When her eyes landed on me, her face filled with shock.

She quickly noticed my bloodshot, tear-rimmed eyes. Her gaze softened with a rare touch of sympathy, and she walked over to me.

"The tuxedo looks great on you. If you like it, I'll buy it for you."

She paused, then went on, "I admit I've been neglecting you lately, but that's only because you've been so stubborn, always trying to force me into things I'm not ready for. Just behave yourself. Once the company goes public and settles down, I promise I'll marry you."

She seemed to assume I was so desperate to marry her that I had come to try on a wedding tuxedo all by myself.

I was just about to explain when Kaiden's voice cut in from behind.

"Whitney, I've picked out my tuxedo. Have you chosen your wedding dress yet?"

Kaiden, wearing a white tuxedo, walked over and naturally slid his arm around Whitney's slender waist.

The gesture was intimate enough that they looked like a real couple.

Whitney's body instantly went rigid. She scrambled to push him away, but fearing it would draw suspicion, she stopped and offered a rushed, defensive explanation instead.

"Joseph, don't get the wrong idea. Kaiden just wanted to see what it feels like to wear a tuxedo, and he didn't have any other female friends to come with him."