They stepped out of the elevator together, Logan’s hand brushing lightly at Jean’s lower back in that protective way he probably didn’t even notice anymore.
The lobby of Divine Beauty glead under the evening lights, employees politely nodding as they passed... though Jean caught the subtle, curious glances. Let them stare, she thought, chin held high.
Before they reached the exit, a familiar voice called out.
"Wait up!"
It was Hannah, slightly breathless, phone still in her hand as she jogged up to them.
Jean paused, turning with a small smile. "Hannah, what’s wrong?"
Hannah’s eyes were bright, a little mischief dancing there. "Nothing bad! Father just called. He wants us all to have dinner tonight... to celebrate your boardroom triumph," she added, voice lilting on the last words.
Jean blinked, startled by the thought.
"Celebrate? That wasn’t necessary..."
"Oh, it absolutely is," Hannah cut in, looping an arm around Jean’s. "You basically roasted half the board alive. It was glorious."
Beside them, Logan cleared his throat, a teasing edge in his voice.
"Look at that," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Barely married and my whole family already forgets I exist. Jean’s the new crown jewel of the Kingsleys."
Jean’s lips curved upward, amusent softening the leftover tension from the day.
"You’re the one who dragged into this family, rember?" she shot back, tone playful but eyes gentle.
Logan feigned a sigh. "True. And now I live in the shadow of my terrifyingly competent wife. What a tragedy."
"It really is," Hannah agreed solemnly, though her grin ruined the effect.
Jean chuckled, feeling the knots in her chest loosen just a bit more.
Outside, the driver pulled the car around. Logan opened the door for her, and before she stepped in, she caught a glimpse of him... that flicker of quiet pride behind his teasing.
They’re proud of , she realized, heart catching. Not for who she used to be. Not for what she could bring them. But for what she’d just done.
_______________________
The restaurant was softly lit, all warm amber lamps and quiet piano music in the background. A private booth tucked in the back, away from curious eyes and gossip hungry caras.
Jean slipped in beside Logan, while Hannah slid into the other side next to Martha. At the head of the table sat Jared Kingsley, looking as imposing and calm as ever.
nus lay untouched.
Martha’s gaze kept drifting to Jean, sothing almost fierce in her eyes. Finally, she set her water glass down, fingers tapping once against the stem.
"Jared," Martha began, voice tight with an anger that had clearly simred long before dinner, "did Hannah tell you what happened at the mall the other day?"
Jared looked between them, brows furrowed. "No. What happened?"
Martha’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Darla Adams." The na fell heavy on the table. "She saw us there. Walked right up to us and insulted ... called a wannabe rich lady. Tried to humiliate Jean in public."
Jared’s expression darkened, the quiet kind of anger that carried more weight than shouting.
Jean opened her mouth to say sothing, but Martha continued, voice firm yet almost trembling with pride.
"But our Jean..." Martha’s eyes ward, the corners softening. "She didn’t stay quiet. She showed that woman exactly where she stands in this world. You should’ve seen it, Jared... I’ve never been prouder in my life."
Jean felt heat rise to her cheeks, the praise landing sowhere deep in her chest. Across from her, Hannah bead, nodding eagerly.
Logan shifted beside her, leaning back slightly, one arm draped along the back of her seat.
"Careful, Mother," Logan drawled, a teasing note in his tone. "Keep praising her like that and her crown’s going to get too heavy to carry ho."
Jean shot him a sideways look, caught between wanting to smile and wanting to nudge him under the table.
Jared’s gaze settled on Jean, his voice quiet but sincere. "I’m glad you didn’t let her words touch you," he said. "This family stands with you, Jean. Never forget that. What your mother did to you and your company was intolerable."
Jean swallowed, the warmth almost too much... yet exactly what a part of her had always yearned for.
Under the table, Logan’s knee brushed gently against hers, lingering just long enough for her to know it wasn’t an accident.
Martha shook her head, a tired sigh escaping her.
"Won like Darla," she murmured, "they can’t stand seeing soone rise on their own strength. But Jean’s already proved she doesn’t need anyone’s permission to belong here."
Jean glanced at Logan, catching the briefest flicker of sothing raw in his expression... pride mixed with sothing softer, more complicated.
Before she could speak, Hannah chid in, voice bubbling with mischief.
"Also, Father, you should’ve seen Logan’s face when Jean’s board mbers wanted to replace Jean . I thought he’d jump over the conference table and throttle them."
Logan gave a low scoff, though the corner of his mouth curved. "I was trying to be civil," he muttered.
"Which lasted about two seconds," Hannah teased.
The mont drew quiet laughter around the table... even from Jean, who felt the heaviness in her chest loosen just a little more.
They ordered dinner then, conversation flowing easier, accompanied by warmth, by shared stories and gentle teasing.
And for that night, at least, Jean let herself lean into the feeling of being... wanted. Not for what she could do, or what she could bring but for simply being Jean.
_________________________
Dinner had settled into laughter and gentle conversation, but the warmth in Jean’s chest still felt heavy... too many emotions swirling beneath her calm exterior.
So, when dessert arrived, she quietly excused herself.
"I’ll just be back from the washroom," she murmured, sliding out of the booth.
Inside, the marble tiled restroom was quiet and cool. Jean paused at the mirror, fingertips brushing her hair back into place. She took a slow breath, willing her heart to steady.
When she stepped out, she nearly collided with soone.
Logan.
He was leaning against the opposite wall, one hand tucked casually into his trouser pocket. But the mont he saw her, he straightened.
Jean blinked. "Were you... waiting for ?"
Logan didn’t answer imdiately. Instead, a small, almost boyish smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Co with ."
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