?Chapter 339:


    But she wasn’t done. “If you expect others to honor their word, Mr. Walsh,” she said, her voice cutting clean through him, “maybe start by looking in the mirror. Reflect.”


    “…on the promises you shattered before questioning anyone else.” With that, she turned and walked away.


    As she passed, a soft breeze followed, carrying a faint but unfamiliar fragrance. Marc froze. It wasn’t the perfume she used to wear; it was different now—new, distant. Just like her.


    In that quiet, lingering scent, the truth settled with cruel rity: he had truly lost her.


    Marc kept pouring drinks until the world around him began to blur. It didn’t take long before he waspletely drunk, his thoughts foggy and unsteady. Doreen helped him back to the hotel and spoke softly to calm him. “Mr. Walsh, please don’t be upset. You’ll find another dance partner—someone even better. You did your best. None of this is your fault.”


    At her words, Marc turned slowly, his gaze locking onto Doreen’s gentle, earnest eyes. Without warning, he drew her close and pressed his lips to hers, giving in to the moment.


    Doreen gasped in surprise, but after a heartbeat she let her eyes flutter shut and yielded to the kiss.


    Meanwhile, back in the banquet hall, Ste, Sandra and Elbert were full of energy,ughing and dancing. Even William, usually reserved, was drawn into a spirited traditional folk dance. The group celebrated until the party gradually wound down, then reluctantly returned to the hotel to rest.


    The next morning, Ste packed her suitcase and made her way downstairs. In the lobby, she was surprised to see William already there, standing calmly with his hands in his pockets, as if he’d been waiting. When Sandra spotted her, she waved and called out, “Sylvia, over here!”


    Ste joined them and learned that William had business to handle and would not be traveling back to Choria with the rest of them. ncing at his carefree demeanor—and the absence of any luggage—she nodded politely. “Then we’ll get going first. Goodbye, Mr. Briggs.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away.


    William watched her retreat, a bitter feeling rising in his chest. She hadn’t hesitated. Knowing he wouldn’t return with her, she hadn’t asked a single question; she’d simply left, as if it didn’t matter. To any onlooker, they would have appeared no more than distant colleagues.


    Sandra held her ss of lemonade mid-air, frozen. That voice… it sounded incredibly familiar. Peeking through the delicate screen divider, her eyes widened in disbelief. She leaned toward Ste and mouthed, “That’s Doreen Greville!”


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    Ste’s gaze followed, and sure enough—there she was. But it wasn’t just Doreen that caught her off guard. Sitting across from her, clear as day, was Jazlyn. And then it clicked. Doreen was pregnant?


    Doreen sat with her head lowered, nervously twisting her fingers. Her voice trembled. “Please… don’t worry. I didn’t ask to meet you today to force Marc Walsh into anything. I just want to have this baby. That’s all. I know he doesn’t love me—and I don’t expect anything from him. I admire him, I really do, but… I’m not asking him to be with me. This is a life. I couldn’t bring myself to end it.”


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