Her Swear

"Jessica." One male voice came from behind when my speech startled the crowd. All of us looked in the direction of the voice and saw a strong man coming in a white suit. In middle age, this man must lead an exquisite life. I reached such a conclusion because this stranger had a jujube red neckerchief beneath his navy blue collar. Obviously, this man was a man of fashion. A heated discussion spread among the crowd. "Is this Marc, Congress Anderson?" "Yes, he is the promising candidate for the coming presidential election?" "Yes, the old money is very supportive of him." "If I don't vote for him, won't we have no pants to wear?" The domineering aura around Marc brought me a chill down my spine. Carroll had told me that Marc, given his social status, wouldn't attend this wedding. As a congressman, Marc was afraid that his attendance would be considered as an act of buy popularity. Therefore, why was he here regardless of his reputation? Was my design the reason? After one glance at me, Je