Choosing Her Right Hand

Elena slipped into the dress provided by Gil's family. As his wife, it was expected of her to wear something appropriate for the occasion. The dress wasn't flashy, but it carried an understated elegance that suited her well. Along with the dress, she received an exclusive gift—a global credit card under her name, embossed with Japanese characters. It was a symbol of her new life, one she was still adjusting to.

"Are you alright?" Gil asked, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed her stiff movements. She was walking with a slight limp, a lingering reminder of their recent honeymoon.

"What?" she barked, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "Why do you think I'm like this?"

"I am so sorry, El," he said softly, reaching out to kiss her. She pushed his face away, her irritation palpable.

"I don't know why your grandfather still called me out," she muttered, crossing her arms defensively.