?Chapter 1349:


    Gerard nodded and handed him a hotel key card, the number 1802 printed clearly on the front. His smile turned downright mischievous. “She’s waiting upstairs. Room 1802. Go.”


    Melvin stared at the card, baffled. “Who is it?”


    “You’ll find out,” Gerard said, already turning away. “Might even be a nice surprise.”


    Still frowning, Melvin turned the key card over in his fingers. He had no idea who it could be, but he trusted Gerard. He made his way upstairs, weaving through the hushed hallways until he reached the door marked 1802. He checked the number once, then again—just to be sure. Then he raised his hand and knocked.


    Nothing. Not even the softest footstep from within.


    After waiting a couple of seconds, Melvin knocked again. Still no response. Without much hesitation, he slid the room card through the lock.


    With a soft click, the door swung open.


    Before he had the chance to step inside or even blink, a loud pop exploded above his head—confetti rained down, courtesy of a party popper.


    “Surprise!” A bright, cheerful woman leapt out from behind the door, her face glowing with mischievous delight. In her hand, she clutched a second party popper, poised for round two.


    Melvin stood frozen in ce, stunned. The moment he registered her face, he blurted, “Jessica?”


    “What’s with that face? You’re not happy to see me?” Jessica Prescott gave him a yful little bop on the head with the party popper, her tone filled with smug satisfaction.


    Melvin’s voice was t. “No.”


    “Not happy? You sure?” she pressed, leaning forward with a cheeky glint in her eyes.


    Melvin shifted back a step, visibly uneasy. “A little surprised.”


    “Answer properly.”


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    “What?”


    “Are you happy to see me?”


    “A little.”


    “Just a little?” Jessica narrowed her eyes, unimpressed.


    Melvin, always blunt, answered seriously. “Yeah.”


    Jessica studied his ever-serious face, the sharp contours still as handsome as ever. Something flickered in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything.


    She casually tossed the spent popper aside, then walked over and plopped down on the sofa, looking mildly irritated.


    “You’re here for Gerard’s wedding?” Melvin asked, which was rare for him—he wasn’t one for small talk.


    “Of course. We went to high school together, remember?” Jessica replied, her soft, youthful features betraying none of her nearly twenty-eight years. “We’re friends. Of course I wouldn’t miss his wedding.”


    Melvin gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment.


    Noticing how little he had changed, Jessica took it upon herself to stir things up. “We’re reunited after ages and that’s all you’ve got to say to me?”


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