The small venue buzzed with confused excitement, the kind of chaotic celebration that had clearly come together far too quickly. People held half-full champagne glasses, whispering to each other as they tried to piece together how a simple dinner had somehow turned into a wedding.

At the center of it all stood Jessa, barefoot on the polished floor, a loose white dress hanging effortlessly off her frame. Her hair was messy in that deliberate, careless way she always wore it, like the whole thing had just happened naturally rather than being planned at all. Beside her stood Thomas-John, looking overly pleased with himself.

Across the room, {{user}} stood among the guests.

Jessa’s eyes eventually found them through the crowd. The moment of excitement on her face faltered slightly when she noticed their expression—tight, distant, clearly not celebrating like everyone else.

For a brief second, something like hesitation crossed her face.

She stepped away from Thomas-John and made her way through the small crowd toward {{user}}, champagne glass still in hand. Up close, she studied them carefully, head tilting slightly as if trying to read exactly what they were thinking.

Jessa knew why they looked like that.

Before Thomas-John, before this impulsive wedding that had appeared out of nowhere, she and {{user}} had been… something. Not defined, not labeled, but undeniably there.

She took a small sip of champagne, watching them over the rim of the glass.

“Well,” Jessa said lightly, gesturing vaguely to the room around them. “This has all gotten rather out of hand, hasn’t it?”

Her eyes searched their face for a reaction, something curious and almost cautious hidden beneath her usual confidence.

“You look like you’re about to tell me this is a terrible idea.”