Chapter 220 No Need to Show off Your Affection
The villa's staff were in high spirits today.
They busted their butts to whip up a feast. Since Taylor was still a growing kid, they made sure to serve up a killer chicken stew, packed with the best ingredients and slow-cooked to perfection.
The stunning Anouk was also at the table.
Probably to look after Henry, Anouk snagged the hostess's seat, the same one Grace used to occupy. Grace didn't make a fuss about it; she and Henry were divorced, after all.
Anouk was all about the details, making sure everything was just right.
She and Henry seemed to click; it was obvious she'd been crashing at the villa for a while.
Grace, though, wasn't totally cool with it.
The most clueless move Anouk made was when Taylor reached for a drumstick. Just as she was about to grab it, Anouk swiped the juicy drumstick and plopped it into Henry's bowl.
There were only two drumsticks; Anouk had already scarfed one down, and now she gave the other to Henry.
Taylor's eyes were glued to it. She really wanted that drumstick.
Henry could read her like a book. He handed the drumstick to her, thinking she'd be stoked, but Taylor's little face scrunched up. She looked at Henry and said, "Anouk didn't use the serving utensils; that's gross."
Henry was caught off guard.
Anouk's face turned beet red. She came from a regular family and wasn't used to using serving utensils at home. She figured since Henry let her eat at the same table, she didn't need to be so formal.
In the end, Grace stepped in. She patted Taylor's head and said gently, "You can't be rude to Anouk like that."
Then she turned to Anouk and said, "Sorry, Anouk."
Anouk forced a smile and said, "It's cool! She is just a kid."
Grace used the serving utensils to give the drumstick back to Henry and then handed Taylor a tasty piece of bone-in meat.
Henry noticed Grace's move.
They'd been married for years and knew each other well. Even though Grace kept a calm and pleasant face, Henry could tell she was ticked off.
Henry's eyes darkened.
After the meal, Henry needed to rest, but he wanted to hang with the kids.
Grace took Taylor and Avery upstairs.
She didn't go into the bedroom herself but decided to chill with a cup of hand-ground coffee in the small flower room on the second floor. The bone china cup was her go-to.
A servant whispered, "Mrs. Montague, since you moved out, nothing here has changed. Mr. Montague has kept to himself, no women around."
Grace put down the cup and smiled faintly. "Isn't there a pretty female doctor by his side?"
The servant, holding a tray, hesitated and then lowered her voice. "Anouk might be trying to charm her way in, but trust me, Mr. Montague isn't interested."
Grace knew there was nothing between Henry and Anouk, but seeing the guy she liked living with another woman day and night and having to act like she didn't care was brutal!
Grace's smile faded.
The servant didn't bother her and quietly left.
In the master bedroom, Henry was with Taylor and Avery. His leg was a hassle, but Taylor could take good care of Avery, and Avery, with her calm nature, only played quietly with Taylor.
Just watching them filled Henry's heart with warmth.
Kids always needed their nap, and by one o'clock, Taylor and Avery were out cold on the comfy sofa. The thing was big enough that there was no worry about them rolling off.
Henry hung out with them for about half an hour before calling the nanny upstairs.
The nanny knocked and peeked in, seeing the kids snoozing. She whispered, "Are they asleep?"
Henry looked at them, his eyes soft. After a moment, he said quietly, "Keep an eye on them."
The nanny, sharp as a tack, nodded. "Got it, Mr. Montague. I'll handle it."
Henry looked a bit awkward as he wheeled himself out of the room, searching for Grace. He finally found her in the small flower room.
Grace was leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window, chatting on the phone.
The afternoon sun streamed through the glass, making Grace's skin look even more radiant. She seemed relaxed and happy, deep in conversation.
This took Henry back to when she left him; she was also happily chatting with someone then.
Back then, it was Dylan.
Now, it was Owen.
Actually, Grace was talking to Lucas about Henry's condition. As she wrapped up the call, she noticed Henry out of the corner of her eye. His expression was a mix of emotions.
Grace gave a faint smile. She said a few more words softly, then hung up and raised the phone slightly. "A call from Owen."
Henry's face fell.
He wheeled closer, his eyes landing on the cup on the table. It was the same cup Grace used when they were married, still half-full of coffee, but she wasn't his wife anymore.
Henry picked up the cup, gently running his fingers over it, and murmured, "You don't need to flaunt your new love in front of me."
"Do I?" Grace leaned against the window, the sunlight making her clothes semi-transparent; her curves were mesmerizing.
But she seemed oblivious and continued, "I thought you and Anouk spending so much time together every day. It seems like you two have a really close bond!"
Henry's eyes locked onto her. "Are you jealous?"
Grace lowered her eyes and smiled faintly. When she looked up again, she said lightly, "When the kids wake up, I'll take them back. I'll be waiting downstairs."
Henry blurted out, "Wait in the bedroom. You just got off a plane."
His words had a touch of tenderness, a special kind of care only for his partner. Grace heard it, but she couldn't accept it.
Because if she got close, Henry would pull away.
So, Grace softly refused, "Henry, we can't avoid contact because of the kids. But the master bedroom is your private space; it's not right for me to go there. Besides, aren't you starting a new life? Let's not do these ambiguous things."
Grace said this lightly and then headed downstairs.
She passed by him without a hint of hesitation or regret, as if in these four months she had completely moved on and forgotten their past.
Henry truly felt she had drawn a clear line between them.
'Is it because of Owen?' he wondered.
Grace left.
The small flower room was still bathed in sunlight, but it couldn't warm Henry.
He sat quietly in his wheelchair, holding the cup of cold coffee, slowly drinking it. His left hand and the lashes under his eyes trembled uncontrollably.
He was so close to Grace, yet he couldn't keep her.
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