Chapter 102 I Don't Want to Have Any Physical Contact with You!
Henry knelt on the ground, holding Grace, her blood staining his hands.
He called her name, voice trembling.
But Grace couldn't hear him anymore.
Her eyes were shut tight, her body cold, and all the love she once had for him was fading.
A tear fell, landing on Henry's heart.
In the Montague Group hospital's ER, doctors rushed around, not daring to slack off.
Henry stood at the OR door, staring at the red surgery light, replaying the surgeon's words. "Mr. Montague, be prepared. Mrs. Montague has a comminuted fracture in her left arm and may never do delicate tasks again!"
'What does that mean? Grace can't play the violin anymore? Why are they giving up before the surgery's even done? What will happen when Grace wakes up?' Henry couldn't bear to think more!
With a blank expression, he called Celeste, demanding the best surgeons in the world, no expense spared, to save Grace's arm.
Celeste paused and said, "Mr. Montague, the best surgeons are already here!"
But they were hired for Elodie!
Grace woke up in the middle of the night. Only a small night light was on, and it was quiet. She thought she heard the wind howling outside.
It must be very cold outside!
Her whole body ached, but she didn't care. She looked at the bandage on her left arm.
Comminuted fracture! She'd played the violin since she was a child; she knew what this meant. No more global concerts, no more being an artist, no more dazzling stages.
Her musical dream was shattered!
Henry's hand gripped her right hand tightly.
Grace pulled her hand back; she didn't want to look at him, didn't want any contact.
Henry woke up, sat up, and wiped his face. Their eyes met in the dim light. But soon, Grace turned away, burying her face in the pillow, tears soaking it.
She cried quietly, her slender shoulders trembling.
She seemed so fragile, like she could break at any moment!
Just a few nights ago, in the study, she was beneath him, the air fragrant with sweat, and no matter how rough he was, he couldn't help but kiss her.
"Grace!" Henry called, wanting to hold her.
But as soon as he touched her shoulder, she pushed his hand away, aggravating her injuries, gasping in pain into the pillow.
She lay there for a long time before speaking in a low, suppressed voice, "Henry, can you leave? I don't want to see you! Every time I see you, I think of my own foolishness, that I'm just a pet to amuse you!"
Tears fell down her nose.
But she didn't care; she kept speaking softly, "Stop pretending to like me. Your so-called love has ruined me over and over! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be tangled up with Elodie, and I wouldn't have lost my dream! Henry, I'm done playing this game. I have nothing left to lose! I only have one life! Don't push me!"
Henry took a step back.
Grace's lips trembled, "Don't push me to harm your lover!"
Henry's Adam's apple moved slightly.
After a while, he spoke softly, "At that time, I thought you could dodge! I don't like her, in my heart..." He trailed off.
What did he want to say? That he actually liked Grace, that he had no feelings for Elodie. But when it mattered, he protected Elodie, not Grace, his wife.
When Henry walked out, he felt more lost than ever.
He knew it was over between him and Grace. No chance left!
Grace's eyes were filled with hatred. How could she not hate him? Just when she was about to achieve her dream, he sacrificed her for Elodie.
That night she said he couldn't love anyone, and she was right. He hurt her!
Now Henry abandoned her again. Grace was right; he couldn't love anyone. His upbringing was all about maximizing benefits, power over everything, even family.
Henry should let Grace go, give her a way out, even if she marries Felix or Lucas. He should compensate her, give her his blessings, because he owes her that.
But even now, even if Grace starts to hate him, he doesn't want to let go.
He still wants her! He wondered if it was just desire.
If it's just desire, why does it hurt so much to see her cry? That familiar yet strange feeling, is it what people call love? Does he feel more than just like for Grace?
The sound of his leather shoes echoed in the long corridor, crisp and lonely.
Elodie was waiting at the end, and when she saw him, she quickly pushed her wheelchair over, crying, "Mr. Montague, I really didn't mean it! I didn't expect this to happen!"
Henry didn't look at her.
He didn't listen to Elodie; he just pushed her wheelchair aside. Then he took a white handkerchief and wiped his hands because he had just touched Elodie.
As he wiped his hands, he lowered his eyes, his voice very low. "Grace doesn't like me touching others."
Elodie watched, her voice nasal, "But at that time, you were clearly protecting me! Mr. Montague, the one you really care about is me. Why don't you admit it?"
Henry looked up at her. After a long time, he threw the handkerchief into the trash. As he turned, he said softly, "Elodie, you're overthinking it! I don't like you; I just pity you."
Elodie was stunned, her face full of tears, unable to accept it.
Henry continued walking, his back desolate, filled with loneliness.
Not long ago, Grace was in his arms, blushing and holding Sherry. And when he got her back, he was so happy. But he forgot all of that after hearing her words.
He forgot everything, and finally, he hurt her deeply. Now they've reached the end.
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