Chapter 31 Only When You Recover Well, You Have the Strength to Escape
Grace kept Clara's situation under wraps.
Nathan thought Clara was just out for a few days with a nurse looking after him. Seeing Grace zoned out, he said, "You should go home! There's a nurse here!"
Grace shook her head. She didn't want to go anywhere; she just wanted to stay.
As night fell, Nathan, being a patient, finally dozed off.
Grace sat alone on a simple chair, lost in thought. A faint red mark still lingered on her cheek from Rebecca's slap.
Outside the ward, separated by a layer of glass, Henry stood quietly.
He looked at the injury on Grace's face, her lost expression, the emptiness in her eyes, and remembered the day she came out of Amara's house, tired but still spirited.
"In the past, I was like this too! But Henry, you never noticed."
"Henry, the $2000,000 doesn't involve sleeping with you! I remember you always kept business and personal matters separate."
Back then, Grace was vibrant. Henry knew that if he let go, she would eventually regain that vibrancy.
But then she would no longer be Mrs. Montague; she might become Lucas's wife or Felix's wife.
Faced with the choice between meeting others' needs and his own, Henry decided to prioritize himself.
He left silently, convinced that Grace would seek him out, considering her intelligence and resourcefulness.
The wind was strong on the top floor of the hospital. A sliver of light appeared on the horizon.
Grace quietly watched that sliver of light, knowing that dawn was about to break, but those rays of light couldn't reach her heart.
Oliver's words echoed in Grace's mind, emphasizing life's myriad choices. However, at this moment, Grace felt trapped with no alternative but to plead with Henry.
Even though his lover had framed Clara, she still had to bow her head and beg him, fully aware of the price she would have to pay. What Henry wanted from her was nothing more than lust and the appearance of a marital relationship.
In the dim light, a tall figure stood behind her. Lucas had been with her for a long time.
Grace inadvertently turned around and was surprised to see Lucas. He looked travel-worn, as if he had just rushed back. His gaze was gentle and warm.
A lump formed in Grace's throat. Without uttering a word, she could sense the reason behind Lucas's sudden return.
However, she couldn't afford to display any weakness, especially not in front of Lucas. She was determined not to let him do any more for her; she felt unable to repay his selfless gestures.
Not wanting to burden a kind soul, Grace mustered a smile and greeted Lucas, "Lucas, it's been a while since we last met!"
Lucas stood beside her.
They watched the sunrise together, watching the light on the horizon.
The morning breeze gently tousled Grace's blonde locks as she turned her head, feigning indifference. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I've made up my mind to go back to Henry. Being Mrs. Montague isn't that awful, you know? I won't have to bust my butt or be scared all the time! Every gal needs a place to fit in; being on your lonesome is tough."
After she finished speaking, she looked straight at him.
Lucas did the same.
Their eyes met, filled with indescribable bitterness and helplessness, and his compassion.
They didn't know that this scene was captured from a certain angle, and the photo, sent to Henry's phone early in the morning, looked quite ambiguous.
At six a.m., Henry, wearing a white bathrobe, leaned against the large bed, looking at the photos.
On the top floor in the morning light.
Lucas and Grace gazed at each other deeply, the atmosphere filled with an indescribable emotion, especially the love in Lucas's eyes as he looked at Grace!
Henry looked at it for a long time, his face expressionless.
At eight in the morning.
Grace took care of Nathan's breakfast, greeted the nurse, and left. Before leaving, she secretly slipped an envelope with $500 to the nurse.
Exiting the hospital, she dialed Henry's number. He was behind the wheel, his focus on the road. He picked up her call but remained silent.
Both remained silent.
After a prolonged pause, Grace broke the silence. "Henry, I want to see you."
Henry's voice was cold. "Want to come home, Mrs. Montague? Crabs are in season, and Katherine is a good cook. How about you join me for dinner tonight?"
Grace bit her lip. "I want to talk about Clara."
Henry's voice turned icy. "Really? Then let's talk in my office!" He hung up, leaving no room for negotiation.
On the late autumn street, Grace felt a chill all over, thinking, 'This is the real Henry!'
His occasional tenderness was just a ploy to lure her back home. When he realized it wasn't working, his true colors showed.
Cold and unfeeling.
Grace set her phone aside and boarded the bus without hesitation.
After two transfers, she arrived at the Montague Group building.
The employees recognized her as Mrs. Montague, but they were also aware of the scandalous reputation that came with this title.
Celeste came down to greet her. Ascending to the executive floor, she pushed open the door to the president's office, her demeanor far from welcoming. "Mr. Montague is currently away on business. Mrs. Montague, please take a seat! I'll prepare a cup of coffee for you."
Grace stood alone in the office; her gaze fixated on the violin behind Henry's desk chair.
Lost in thought, she didn't notice Celeste entering behind her.
Celeste followed her gaze and said softly, "Mrs. Montague, do you know why Elodie hates you so much? You probably don't know that four years ago, Mr. Montague actually considered marrying her. Mr. Montague doesn't harbor any particular affection for anyone, so the identity of his spouse is inconsequential. Elodie just happened to come along and awaken something in Mr. Montague!"
Celeste placed the coffee on the table.
Straightening up, she smiled deeply and continued, "But Aurora didn't like Elodie, thought she was too low-born to be presentable! So even if you hadn't appeared, Elodie would never have been able to enter the Montague family!"
Celeste clearly didn't regard Grace highly.
Grace suddenly asked, "What about you, Celeste? With your background, do you think Henry's mother would approve?"
Celeste was taken aback, not expecting Grace to see through her intentions.
Grace lowered her eyes and smiled bitterly. How could she not see through it?
Having once deeply loved Henry, Grace understood those in his orbit. Celeste's admiration for him was often thinly veiled, a fact not lost on Grace. She was no fool; a moment's contemplation revealed the truth.
Henry left Grace hanging for an entire day.
He finally returned to the company at four in the afternoon. When he opened the door, Grace was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the sunset.
Hearing the sound at the door, she slowly turned around.
Henry looked at her for a moment, then turned to Celeste behind him and said, "Leave us! I'm not seeing anyone else today, no matter who it is!"
Celeste left, closing the door behind her.
Henry stood at the door, exchanged glances with Grace for a moment, then walked to his desk and sat down.
He leaned back in his chair, his long fingers loosening his tie, feeling a bit more comfortable before looking at Grace again. "What do you want to talk about? Pleading?"
Grace stood by the window. Outside, the evening clouds dyed the sky red, making the vast world seem small.
Grace lowered her stance, replying, "Yes! I'm here to plead with you! Henry, can you let Clara go?"
She knew what he wanted, and she was willing to give it, so she began unbuttoning her shirt.
The room was dimly lit, her skin glowing like fine silk, inviting touch. In a moment, her shirt and skirt fell to the floor, her body trembling slightly.
Henry's blue eyes filled with anger. Yet, when he was angry, his eyes were especially captivating, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking.
He played with the gold pen on the desk, sneering, "Why not take it all off?"
Approaching her, he halted in front of her alluring figure, gently brushing Grace's scented shoulder with a hint of playfulness. Devoid of the usual spousal regard, he treated her more like a participant in a business transaction.
His slender fingers danced lightly and provocatively. With a smirk, he remarked, "I didn't expect the conservative Mrs. Montague to have such a wanton side! What? Feeling like making love?"
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