Mandy was helped onto the stage. She thanked everyone for attending, then turned to Chase. “My daughter is perfect, and with such a wonderful son-in-law, I couldn’t ask for anything more. I have no wishes left—only hope everyone enjoys themselves tonight.” She stepped down to warm applause. The tall cake was wheeled out. Mandy, having not even made a wish, relinquished the cake-cutting duties to Wendy.

Just as Wendy was about to pull Chase onstage, Stella emerged from the crowd, dragging Henry by the hand. “Sis, since today’s so special, why don’t you cut the cake with Henry?” Stella beamed, nudging Henry toward Wendy. “To make a wish for Mom, it should be someone important to her.” Chase, relieved to avoid the stage, readily handed the knife to Henry.

“Better not,” Henry said softly, looking at Chase. “He’s still the Quinn family’s son-in-law. It wouldn’t be right for me to go up there with Wendy. It would embarrass Mr. Goodman.” Stella glared at Chase, a look of nervous apprehension betraying a hidden secret. She turned to him, saying, “Some people have gotten too comfortable and are looking for trouble. But Henry’s different. This role was his to begin with. If not for lies, scheming, and theft, the title of Quinn family son-in-law would never have gone to him.”

Their hushed conversation drew little attention. Wendy frowned, about to speak, when Chase stepped back, tilting his head. “He’s not wrong. That title was never truly mine. It’s just a cake—it doesn’t matter. You choose whoever you want.” Chase solemnly placed the knife in Wendy’s hand. Another choice. He’d known from the start that he wouldn’t be chosen, as long as Henry was around. Yet, he couldn’t let go. He’d supported Wendy while Henry was abroad, never experiencing victory, and now he had to relinquish everything? It felt like swallowing glass. His pride wouldn't let him walk away easily, so he wanted Wendy to choose one last time. If she chose him, there might be hope. But deep down, he knew the outcome.

“It’s just a cake. Why complicate it?” Wendy frowned, turning toward the stage. Stella nudged Chase aside. Henry, smiling, joined Wendy onstage, watched by the assembled guests.

Whispers rippled through the crowd: “I knew it. Wendy will always choose Henry.” “Her husband’s right there! Choosing someone else… Henry’s definitely changed since overseas.” “He used to have a temper. Now, married with a child, he’s probably less petty.” “Am I the only one who thinks Chase looks pitiful?” “He’s still the Quinn family’s son-in-law, but Wendy brings another man onstage for her mother’s birthday. That’s a slap in the face.”

Chase kept his eyes on Wendy. After the cake was cut, the lighting softened, becoming more romantic. Chase stepped back, yielding the spotlight. Someone handed Henry a microphone. “Wendy, we’ve wasted so much time. We’re not young anymore. It’s time to decide. I didn’t leave you on purpose, and now we shouldn’t care what others think…”

Chase couldn’t bear to hear more. He found a room upstairs, switched on the lights, and discovered it was Wendy’s old bedroom. Every photo was of Wendy and Henry. He felt like an intruder in a shrine to their past. I knew from the start… so why does it still hurt? The music downstairs intensified, more romantic than before. He pictured Wendy in Henry’s arms, a look he’d never seen on her face. It was over. He had the divorce papers. If he could just get through today, he could leave it all behind.

He sat on the bed, composing himself, when the door opened. He expected to be caught, but it was Stella. “You saw it, didn’t you? Henry confessed, and she said yes. You’re nothing now. Leave the Quinn family and give Henry his rightful place.”

“We’re divorced. There’s no point.” Stella scowled, refusing to believe he’d agreed to the divorce. “You must have gotten something in return.” She moved closer. “All these years, even if not from my sister, your mother-in-law gave you plenty. To agree to the divorce, you must have gotten even more. You haven’t changed at all.”

Chase rubbed his temples, the champagne affecting him. His mind was full of Wendy, their years together. How could he simply move on? He’d walked away from the woman he loved, and now he had to watch her find happiness with another man, all while enduring Stella’s mockery. It was unbearable humiliation.

“You know me. If you don’t want me to leave your sister, keep talking. I can drive the price up until she can’t afford me anymore, and she’ll stop the divorce.” “You!” Stella glared. Chase leaned in, staring her down. “You know I’d do it.” Another choice. I knew from the start… so why does it still hurt?