Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 65

Though his profile photo was nothing but a pitch–black square, the cover image burst with wild white blossoms stretching as far as the eye could

see.

The picture couldn’t be enlarged, so Edith had no idea what kind of flowers they were.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised. Maybe Justin wasn’t as cold as he seemed on the surface after all.

After all, what kind of aloof man would use such a gentle, hopeful photo for his background?

The butler finished his tasks with his usual polite smile, then took his leave from the Sumner family home.

Edith noticed something peculiar: everyone from the Hawksley family, whether relative or servant, always seemed to wear a pleasant, easy smile.

It was nothing like the Vance household, where even the maids carried stiff, unsmiling faces, as if the family hadn’t paid them for months.

Once the butler left, Jayne set about tallying up the wedding gifts the Hawksleys had sent.

She hadn’t realized just how much there was until she started counting. The sheer extravagance left her momentarily speechless.

“These are… a bit too much, aren’t they?” Jayne murmured, clearly at a loss.

Edith could only sigh. By custom, once a dowry was delivered, it wasn’t proper to return it.

Returning the gifts would only send the message that they weren’t satisfied with the match.

She tried to reassure her mother. “Mom, my room will be empty soon

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anyway. Just store everything in there for now. If, for whatever reason, things don’t work out with Mr. Hawksley and me, we can always return the gifts later.”

Jayne looked relieved at the suggestion. It was always awkward to accept so much from others–let alone from a family like the Hawksleys. Standing before the pile of lavish gifts, Jayne suddenly noticed

something odd. “Wait, Edith, don’t tell me you still call him Mr. Hawksley when you’re with Justin?”

Edith nodded honestly. “Of course.”

What else was she supposed to call him? Using his first name just felt a little too informal.

Jayne sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Her daughter was wonderful in so many ways–except, perhaps, when it came to social graces and matters of the heart.

“You can’t keep calling him Mr. Hawksley like a stranger,” Jayne said, exasperated.

Edith blinked, genuinely puzzled. “If not Mr. Hawksley, then what am I supposed to call him?”

Jayne softened her tone, trying to be gentle. “You’re about to be married. The Hawksleys have treated us with nothing but kindness; if you stay so formal, it’ll only push him away.”

That was only part of Jayne’s concern. What really worried her was that Edith’s awkwardness might make life in the Hawksley family difficult

once she moved in.

But at her age, Jayne didn’t really know how to teach her daughter the art of getting closer to a man.

Caught in this dilemma, Jayne tried to put it delicately. “Call him Justin. There’s barely a year or two between you. It’ll sound warmer–more like family.”

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