Derek looked over his shoulder, his expression instantly smoothing into a warm smile.

He released my arm.

“We should go sit down,” Derek said, his voice loud enough for the room to hear.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s time.”

We walked into the dining room, where the table was set with white linen and silver.

The candles cast a soft, flickering glow over the crystal glasses.

I sat at one end of the long table, and Derek sat at the other.

Richard was on my right, and Clara was on Derek’s left.

Two other couples, senior partners from Derek’s firm, filled the remaining seats.

“This is beautiful, Monica,” said Susan, one of the partners’ wives.

“Thank you, Susan,” I said.

Laura’s staff began serving the first course, a delicate butternut squash soup.

“The presentation is lovely,” Clara remarked.

“Monica spent weeks planning this,” Derek said from the far end of the table.

“She wanted to make sure tonight was unforgettable.”

“I did,” I said, lifting my spoon.

“A good host always ensures their guests leave with a lasting impression.”

“To a successful evening,” Richard said, raising his glass.