Chapter 137 Henry Claimed to Love Her, Yet He Hit Her!
Henry had been in the study for ages.
He picked up the broken CD, stared at it for a bit, then tossed it in the trash. He slumped on the sofa, leaned back, but the light was too bright. He shielded his eyes with his hand.
His hand throbbed, reminding him of how hard he had struck.
He had actually hit Grace. Henry closed his eyes, seeing only Grace's tearful smile. She had been pampered by the Windsor family, never hit by anyone.
He claimed to love her, yet he hit her!
Just then, his phone rang. It was Celeste. "Mr. Montague, the car is downstairs. Are you coming down now?"
Henry's voice was faint. "Postpone it by a day."
Celeste didn't think much of it. "But the expert team is waiting for you, Mr. Montague."
Henry's voice turned cold. "I said postpone it by a day." He hung up.
Downstairs, Celeste looked at her phone and asked a nearby servant, "Did Mr. Montague and Mrs. Montague have another fight?"
Celeste thought it shouldn't be! When they remarried, she had seen how happy Henry was. He should have cherished Grace, so how did it come to this?
The servant downstairs had vaguely heard the slap.
After much hesitation, she confessed, "There was an argument upstairs just now. It seems Mr. Montague slapped Mrs. Montague."
Celeste was stunned.
Upstairs in the master bedroom, Grace stood quietly by the window. She didn't want anyone outside to see her like this.
In their social circle, it was rare for someone like her to be slapped by her husband. If word got out, it would be a laughingstock.
The door creaked open. Henry walked in with a first aid kit. He came to her side and gently held her wrist. "Let me apply some ointment."
Grace gently pulled away, her tone indifferent. "Celeste is already here. She's waiting for you downstairs."
Henry felt a moment of suffocation.
After a while, he said softly, "I postponed it by a day."
Grace looked at the scenery outside, her lips trembling as she smiled faintly. "It's unnecessary, Henry. Whether you leave a day earlier or later, the result is the same."
Henry understood her implication.
He knew it was useless to say anything; she wouldn't believe him. But he still said, "I don't have feelings for her."
Grace didn't argue. At this point, she considered any conversation with him a waste of time. When he pulled her over to apply ice, she didn't resist, moving like a puppet in his hands.
But she wouldn't talk to him; she refused to communicate. Even though it hurt when he applied the ointment, she remained silent.
Henry's heart ached.
He wanted to embrace her, but Grace crossed her arms around herself, rejecting his closeness. She kept her eyes on the window, as if he didn't exist, as if they were in different worlds.
Henry looked at her profile and asked gently, "Weren't you going to talk to me about something?"
Grace's eyes stung. She blinked lightly and said in a detached tone, "Not anymore, Henry. There never will be."
Henry's fingers curled slightly.
The next day, Henry flew abroad.
He stayed abroad for about a month. During that time, Grace didn't answer his calls or respond on Facebook. She didn't even ask about his schedule or when he would return home. She didn't even want to maintain the facade of a marriage.
Celeste told him that Grace's store was doing well, expanding with several new branches nationwide in just a month.
Henry thought it was good that her career was thriving; at least she wouldn't overthink things.
A month later, he flew back to Evergreen City.
In the evening, the setting sun painted the sky red. A shiny black Rolls-Royce slowly drove into the villa. A servant eagerly opened the car door and called out, "Mr. Montague!"
Henry looked up at the second floor from inside the car and asked softly, "Is Mrs. Montague home?"
The servant hesitated. "Mrs. Seraphina Montague is unwell. Mrs. Grace Montague has been taking care of her for several days now."
Henry's expression softened a bit.
He had the servant take his luggage upstairs and drove himself to the Montague Manor.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in the parking lot of the Montague Manor.
Henry didn't have the servant announce his arrival. He went straight to Seraphina's bedroom. The room was quiet. Seraphina was resting against a pillow with her eyes closed, and Grace seemed to be asleep by the bedside.
Henry didn't disturb Seraphina. He sat beside Grace and gently touched her face. She had lost a lot of weight; her already small face was now smaller than his hand.
Grace woke up and looked at his travel-worn appearance without saying a word. No joy, no sorrow.
She didn't want to be touched by him and moved back slightly, but Henry held her by the nape of her neck, not letting her retreat. His voice was low and gentle. "Does it still hurt?"
Grace's tone was lukewarm. "I'm going to wash my face."
She pushed him away, got up, and walked to the bathroom.
Henry was about to follow when Seraphina woke up. Her frail hand grasped Henry's, her voice hoarse. "I was awake just now. Hearing you talk, I realized you had hit her. Henry, Grace was raised with care. If you don't love her anymore, let her go."
Henry was taken aback.
He hadn't expected Seraphina to say that. She had always hoped they would be happy together.
Seraphina kept her eyes closed. "I'm sick, but I'm not blind. She's not happy. Henry, if you have any affection for her, let her go."
Henry was silent for a long time. He said softly, "Grandma, I can't."
Tears welled up in Seraphina's eyes.
Her health was poor, and she didn't have the energy to say much. "Grace is not like Neil. She has never wronged you. Henry, I'm afraid one day you'll regret this, and you'll be filled with sorrow."
Henry tilted his head back slightly, not saying a word.
After a moment, he turned and saw Grace standing at the bathroom door.
On the drive back, Grace still didn't speak.
Henry pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to her, speaking softly. "I've been away for so long. Don't you have anything to say to me?"
Grace looked straight ahead. "What do you want to say?"
She smiled faintly. "That you're deeply in love with Elodie, or that I should respect and bless you both?"
Henry held her hand.
Grace tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. He looked at her profile and said softly, "I regret it deeply, Grace. You can hit me back. Hit me however you want. Just don't be so cold to me."
Grace found it laughable. Wasn't he the one flirting with someone else? Wasn't he the one who slapped her for Elodie? Wasn't he the one too busy to even say a few words to her?
And now he was acting all affectionate?
How ironic!
Grace turned her face away and said softly, "Drive. I want to go home and rest."
As soon as she finished speaking, Henry pulled her onto his lap.
Her body pressed tightly against his, and she could feel his urgency. After all, he had been abroad for a month, and Elodie couldn't satisfy his needs. Grace knew that he must have been holding back for a long time, using her as an outlet the moment he returned.
Grace avoided his kisses but couldn't escape his touch. His body was almost on fire.
He was in a hurry. Her thin stockings were torn off, hanging on her slender legs.
How could Grace agree to make love with him?
She clutched his shirt tightly, gasping as she spoke softly, "Henry, I'm pregnant."
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