Chapter 237 She Danced Beautifully
Amara's shindig was at her swanky new townhouse.
The place was huge, like over 3,000 square feet, and decked out in this cool vintage vibe. Amara and her new beau were mingling with everyone, wine glasses in hand, looking all glowy and stuff.
When Grace rolled in, Amara turned and asked, "Henry didn't tag along?"
Grace handed over a gift and gave a small smile. "He's stuck at home, buried in paperwork!"
Amara, always the smooth talker, chuckled, "You've got him well-trained! Henry's always been a bit of a hermit, no drama in our circle, which is kinda impressive."
Then Amara leaned in, dropping her voice. "Esme tied the knot! Think Henry's finally over it?"
Grace patted Amara's hand gently. "Let's not dig up old stuff."
Amara nodded, giving her props.
After some chit-chat, the sound of Western music filled the townhouse, signaling it was time to dance. As the hostess, Amara had to kick things off with her young boyfriend. She shot Grace an apologetic smile and headed to the dance floor.
Even though Amara was middle-aged, she moved with grace and elegance, and the vibe was pretty lit.
Grace scanned the room but couldn't spot Juniper, thinking she hadn't shown up yet.
Instead of Juniper, she bumped into Dylan!
It was clear Dylan was there for her. He stood in the corner, eyes locked on her. After a beat, he made his way over.
Grace clutched her wine glass, her whole vibe defensive.
"No need to be all guarded with me, Grace." Dylan said, his gaze intense. "With all these people around, what could I possibly do?"
Despite his words, he took the glass from Grace's hand and set it on a waiter's tray. Then he grabbed her wrist, pulling her into a dance.
Maybe, only in this setting, he could get away with it.
Under the sparkling chandelier, Grace's face showed a flicker of anger. "Dylan, I've told you, I can't help you! Oliver took Sarah abroad, and I have no clue where they are."
Dylan kept his eyes on her. He knew she wasn't lying, and he also knew she wasn't doing it for him but for Oliver. She was scared Oliver would get in deeper trouble.
The music switched to another tune.
Dylan tightened his grip on her waist, his moves getting more intimate and kinda provocative.
He leaned in close, whispering, "What if I use you to get to Oliver? If I force myself on you, you probably won't ever get Henry's love, right? He's such a proud guy."
Grace sneered, "Dylan, are you nuts?"
She paused, then continued, "You might not get it, but for someone like me, chastity isn't a big deal anymore. If a guy forces himself on me, it's not my fault! If Henry cares, then I'll live just fine on my own. If he can get over it, then I'll be with him!"
Dylan's eyes were cold as he softly asked, "Henry ended up like this, why do you still like him? Why stick around? Ever thought about ditching him for someone who actually treats you right?"
Grace cut him off, lowering her eyes with a faint smile, "Feelings aren't about being impulsive or about revenge. Feelings are about knowing what you want. And I've always wanted Henry."
Grace kept her cool and finished the dance with Dylan.
But she didn't know that at the entrance of the townhouse, Henry had been quietly watching.
Henry sat in his wheelchair, watching her dance with Dylan. He saw Dylan holding her waist, saw their close posture and the predatory look in Dylan's eyes.
Beside him, the doorman asked respectfully, "Mr. Montague, want me to push you inside?"
Those words hit Henry like a ton of bricks.
But he gave a bitter smile. "Nah, no need."
Then, he wheeled himself away, fast. Faster than he ever had before. He felt like a joke, like a stray dog. He'd even thought about surprising her, showing up like a normal guy at the party.
How stupid! He actually thought he was normal.
'Henry, how are you normal? You can't even walk into a party without freaking out. You're scared of people staring, scared they'll ask her why she's still with a cripple like you,' he thought, mocking himself.
In the night, Grace only caught a glimpse of the car's tail lights. She stood there, quiet for a long time.
Grace's face was blank. As a woman, she felt pretty helpless right then. She knew exactly what it meant that Henry came and left.
The driver came up and asked softly, "Mrs. Montague, should we head home now?"
Grace shook her head gently, "Let's wait another hour." Henry didn't want her to know he had been there, so she pretended not to know.
Late at night, she wrapped her shawl around herself and slowly went upstairs. Her back looked so lonely as she climbed.
Back in that place of debauchery, she couldn't help but regret it. She felt she shouldn't have come; if she hadn't, today's mess wouldn't have happened.
She forced a smile when Amara talked to her.
Amara, having heard from the doorman, softly comforted her, "There will always be adjustments. He was so proud before; it's just a temporary thing."
Grace responded with a soft "hmm," her eyes a bit moist.
Seeing it was about time, she apologized to Amara and said she had to leave. Amara didn't push her to stay, feeling even more worried for her.
On the way back, Grace sat in the car, constantly checking her phone.
Henry didn't call. She tried dialing his number, and Henry answered, his tone cold. "Is the party over? How was it?"
In the dim car, Grace's eyes filled with tears, but her voice stayed soft. "Just like always, not that fun. Henry, I'm back. There's a restaurant ahead; wanna grab some grub?"
"I'm not hungry," Henry's tone was harsh, but he quickly softened, "If you're hungry, get something for yourself."
Grace was on the verge of tears. She bit her hand and softly replied, "Okay, I'll be back soon."
When Grace got home, the kids were already asleep, but Henry was still in the study, sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, smoking.
Grace opened the door and was immediately hit by the smoke. She closed the door behind her and walked to the window to open it, letting the smoke out. She spoke softly, "It's so choking, smoke less."
Henry, holding a cigarette, looked deeply at her. "This is my only pleasure. You wanna take that away too?"
Grace's fingers trembled, but she kept her cool, speaking gently, "I just said to smoke less."
Henry shot back, "At Mrs. Young's party, there must've been all kinds of smoking, right? Cigarettes, cigars, and you enjoyed it too. Did you ask anyone to ease up on the smoking?"
He was clearly picking a fight!
Grace didn't want to argue. After airing out the room, she intended to go to the guest room to wash up.
But as she turned, Henry grabbed her wrist.
He looked up at her, his voice soft. "You knew I was there, why didn't you ask?"
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