Chapter 1096: Wedding (7) Oscar Leaves Alone

Amidst Susan's argument, Oscar left the hall. Everyone else had departed, leaving an unusual quietude in the once-lively space. It was as if a play had ended, its characters dispersed.

Theodore was the first to notice Oscar's departure. The others quickly turned, observing him appear unaffected by Hannah's absence. He had simply masked his pain, maintaining composure.

"I'm going back," Oscar said.

"Back where?" Theodore asked.

"To Northfield."

"What about Hannah?"

"She... has her own life," Oscar replied, his voice heavy.

Theodore started to speak, but Oscar cut him off. "Let's go."

He wished to avoid further conversation, fearing he would lose control. As for Hannah, any lingering feelings were gone, replaced by disgust.

He turned to Salem. "Salem."

Salem, eyes pleading, said pitifully, "I don't want to go. I want to see my mom." Discovering Besse was his biological mother had filled him with joy; he loved her regardless. Now, he longed to be with her.

"Then go with Susan," Oscar said, acknowledging Salem's feelings but unable to articulate his own turmoil. He could only avoid disrupting Besse's wedding. "But don't disturb your mom's wedding."

"Okay."

Oscar closed the car door. Theodore hesitated, handing Salem to Manuel. "I'll leave Salem in your care. I need to check on Oscar, just in case." He quickly joined Oscar in the car, leaving Susan alone, watching their departure. A deep sigh escaped her lips. Once, she'd wished for Hannah to leave Oscar; now, their separation filled her with regret.

Two celestial prodigies, once an envied couple, were now fractured and broken.

"Let's go," Manuel called to Susan. She turned, Salem in tow, and followed him to a wedding car. They proceeded to the palace, where Hannah and Doyle had just completed their tour.

Hannah was in a traditional royal wedding gown for the main ceremony. Susan entered her makeup room with Salem. Hannah, resplendent in her gown, sat at her dressing table as stylists worked on her hair. Through the mirror, she saw Susan and Salem, both red-eyed, silently standing as if fearing to disturb her.

Hannah offered a faint smile, one brimming with unshed tears. Both Susan and Salem clearly knew her true identity.

"Come over here," she said.

Susan led Salem to her. He approached cautiously. "Miss Besse," he said.

The address pained Hannah; he'd called her "Mom" earlier.

"I asked him to call you this, so it wouldn't affect your wedding," Susan explained. "You are Besse."

If the wedding proceeded, if she married Doyle, she would be Besse, not Hannah. Besse had no son. Tears welled in Hannah's eyes. She couldn't acknowledge Salem; she was still Besse, yet to complete the ceremony.

"Don't worry," Susan said quickly, seeing Hannah's tears. "Oscar has left."

Hannah considered whether Oscar had sent them to dissuade her from marrying, especially with Salem.

"He won't stop your wedding," Susan reassured, fearing Hannah's rejection. "Salem only wanted to see you."

Susan felt remorse for earlier ignoring Salem. His presence eased her guilt.

"Congratulations on your new marriage," Salem added hastily, fearing rejection. "This is a gift for you."

He produced a handmade bunny. Hannah was surprised. "Did you make this yourself?"

"I was going to give it to my sister, but when I heard you were getting married, I wanted to give it to you," Salem explained in his childlike voice. "Dad agreed too. He said he'd bless you if you marry Prince Doyle. Dad didn't come to force you, don't hate him."

Hannah touched his head. "I don't hate him."

"Okay," Salem replied obediently. "I'll go back and tell Dad."

Hannah smiled. She didn't hate Oscar; they were simply strangers again.

Susan and Salem remained with Hannah while she finished her makeup. Usually lively, Susan was silent, watching Hannah quietly. The unbelievable had occurred. Hannah lived. This day felt like the happiest of her life, reminiscent of her father's recovery from his vegetative state.

Susan realized she should feel happy. After seemingly insurmountable loss, everything had been restored – her father, husband, and best friend. She felt incredibly fortunate and vowed to repay God's kindness through good deeds.

"Susan... Don't cry anymore," Hannah said, unable to bear watching her friend weep. Her own position at the dressing table hindered her from comforting Susan. The usually carefree woman cried uncontrollably, as if releasing a lifetime of tears.