Chapter 1090: Wedding (1) Arrive at Jolencami

Manuel and Susan arrived in Jolencami first. Besse had been surprised they'd come. When she’d sent Susan the invitation, she'd included a handwritten note: "You don't have to attend the wedding; your thoughts matter more than your presence." She'd worried about Susan's pregnancy and the fatigue of travel. But Besse knew Susan well enough to realize that omitting the invitation would only result in her arrival, accompanied by various complications.

As it happened, Susan came regardless. And she was thrilled, excited by her first visit to Jolencami and eager to sample all the delicious local cuisine.

Besse sometimes felt sorry for Manuel; having such a spirited wife must be quite an experience. But Manuel's indulgent smile suggested it wasn't so bad after all.

Besse arranged for them to stay at Jolencami's finest hotel and joined them for dinner, with Doyle also in attendance. Despite their busy schedules in the two days before the wedding, they made time for their guests, a gesture that embarrassed yet pleased Susan, and relaxed Besse.

It felt different from their time in Northfield. Something had shifted within Besse; she felt more cheerful.

"Your steak is prepared with high-tech sterilization and tomato sauce to prevent indigestion," Besse explained, gesturing to Susan's plate.

"I don't want that! I want black pepper sauce!" Susan insisted.

"The doctor said you're nearing labor, so you need to be careful, especially since we're abroad," Manuel interjected. "Manuel!" Susan protested.

"Did you forget what you promised me?"

"..."

Besse chuckled, appreciating the lively woman's spirited presence, even if occasionally challenging.

Besse cut Doyle's steak into smaller pieces. Susan's envious gaze didn't go unnoticed.

"My right hand is impaired," Doyle explained, noticing Susan's expression. "I lack feeling and struggle to hold a knife. Don't misunderstand; I'm not a bad husband."

Susan's understanding dawned. "I don't think you're a bad husband. I just think your wife is exceptionally good to you."

Besse wasn't accustomed to the "husband and wife" addresses between Doyle and herself, but remained silent.

Doyle laughed heartily, clearly in good spirits after dinner. Manuel and Susan were tired, so Besse and Doyle left them undisturbed. They settled into the backseat of their luxury car.

"I never thought you'd agree to marry me," Doyle said, surprised. "I expected a much longer courtship. You've changed since Northfield; I barely recognize you."

"Doyle, do you like me?" Besse asked earnestly.

Doyle responded immediately and affirmatively, "Yes."

Besse smiled.

"Do you still like me?" Doyle pressed.

Besse nodded. "I like you."

"It's enough that you like me. I feared you might change your mind," Doyle said, taking Besse's hand. "From the moment we met, I longed to marry you. After all these years, achieving this feels surreal; I'm the happiest man alive."

Besse gazed at him intently. Had he loved her since childhood?

Doyle, too, seemed lost in thought. Everything felt unreal. He'd sensed a coolness from Besse upon their return to Jolencami, fearing she’d lost affection. He'd proposed expecting rejection, viewing it as a chance to try again, only to unexpectedly succeed. Even then, Besse hadn't immediately accepted, requesting time to consider, answering affirmatively the following day.

The joy of her acceptance remained palpable; even thinking about it made his heart race. He leaned in to kiss her, but Besse turned her head, his kiss landing on her cheek. He felt a familiar pang of embarrassment; she often seemed to rebuff his advances. Yet, she was consistently attentive and caring. He remained unsure of her feelings.

"Let's wait until our wedding day," Besse said, her smile softening his disappointment. Since returning from Northfield, she'd rejected him repeatedly, her indifference growing with each hurt look on his face.

"I'll surprise you then," she added.

Her words rekindled his hope. Sometimes, she seemed like a guileless child, simple-minded yet stubbornly persistent. She didn't want to hurt him.

"What surprise?" he asked.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," she replied.

He wouldn't press. He'd know within two days, though anticipation gnawed at him.

Meanwhile, in their luxurious hotel room, Susan, in comfortable pajamas, chatted on her phone after Manuel had helped her shower and dry her hair.

"Who are you talking to?" Manuel asked.

"Who else but Oscar?" Susan laughed wickedly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.