Chapter 38 Elodie's White Dress
Grace was in a fog as Henry headed to the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of running water mixed with Henry's deep, raspy voice echoed from the bathroom.
Despite everything, Grace, being a grown woman, figured Henry was taking care of himself in there.
Twenty minutes later, Henry emerged in a plain white bathrobe, the collar open, water droplets glistening on his firm chest.
Unfazed, Henry walked to the bedside and stood there, staring at Grace, who was still in shock.
After a moment, Grace looked up at him.
Her eyes were red and filled with tears. No woman could accept being treated so poorly by her husband, even after three years of enduring it.
She thought she was used to it.
Henry looked at her tear-streaked face, completely indifferent. All his pity for Grace had vanished over a cake.
If it had been anyone else, it might have been different, but it was Lucas.
Henry's eyes were dark, his voice calm and controlled, like he had made a big decision.
He stared into Grace's eyes and said, "I'm not divorcing you."
Grace's lips trembled.
Henry smirked and continued, "Grace, if I can't have it, neither can Lucas."
He tossed a file onto the bedside table.
Grace's heart sank.
She grabbed the file and, with shaking hands, tore it open. Inside was a pile of shredded paper, but it was clear what it had been.
A divorce agreement, signed by Henry. Now, it was in pieces.
Grace blinked, realizing she had almost tasted freedom.
All because of a cake, Henry had taken back his last bit of pity for her and decided never to let her go.
Grace stared at the shredded document until her eyes hurt. Then she looked up at Henry, her voice trembling. "Henry, I can give up everything."
She seemed almost meek, but Henry was unmoved. As a businessman, he kept his cold-hearted demeanor.
He waited for Grace to pull herself together, ready for a rational conversation.
Watching the hope fade from Grace's eyes, replaced by despair, Henry noted the change. He preferred a less emotionally volatile wife.
Emotions were useless.
Eventually, the room fell into an eerie silence.
Breaking the silence, Henry spoke in his usual businesslike tone, "Grace, everything in this world has a price. Marriage does. Emotions do, too. If there's no price now, it's because it hasn't been agreed upon."
Henry looked down at Grace. Her face was worn and tired from recent events.
But he remained unmoved and continued coldly, "I need you to be Mrs. Montague. Whether it's because you look good or because I want you, I'm not changing wives right now. And since you don't want to be Mrs. Montague anymore, Grace, let's talk about the price."
Grace wasn't stupid. Since Henry had said this much, the condition he offered, or the price he mentioned, must be what she wanted most.
As she met his gaze, Henry's expression twisted into a sneer. He reached out and brushed her face, speaking with a hint of mockery, "Your deepest desire is Oliver's freedom. During our argument, you even complained about our intimacy because I didn't help the Windsor family or Oliver, right? Fine, I'll help you now, but remember, Grace, this isn't out of kindness; it's a transaction. It's the cost for you to return and be Mrs. Montague again."
"Of course, you can refuse!"
"But without my help, Oliver will definitely spend ten years in prison! Remember, Grace, Oliver was once so outstanding, with so many socialites after him, right? If he hadn't messed up and gone to prison, if the Windsor family hadn't fallen, he'd have a family by now!" Henry added.
In the past, Henry had torn Grace's body apart. Now, he was tearing her heart apart.
In a moment stripped of all pretense, they engaged in direct and blunt conversation. Henry revealed his desire for Grace to resume her role as his wife, not out of love, but driven by mutual interests and the preservation of dignity.
Oliver's freedom was the price Henry offered her.
Grace didn't refuse out of pride.
But she didn't agree immediately either. She gripped the bedsheet tightly, controlling all her emotions as she looked at him and said softly, "I need to think about it."
Unfazed by the revelation, Henry harbored dark thoughts. He reflected on the inevitability of growth, acknowledging that Grace, like everyone else, had evolved. The once blushing girl who would affectionately address him as "Henry" had vanished, replaced by the woman who now stood as his wife.
In a moment of contentment, Henry's hand delicately caressed Grace's face. Leaning in, his warm breath brushed against her soft skin, his words laced with a subtle ambiguity. "I trust you'll make the appropriate decision, Mrs. Montague," he murmured.
That evening, Henry chose not to leave; instead, he opted to spend the night. However, he settled on sleeping on the sofa, maintaining a physical distance within their shared space.
The lights were off, and the room was dark and quiet, with only the sound of their shallow breathing. Although they tried to stay calm, neither of them slept.
Grace's face was pressed against the pillow.
Henry's words kept echoing in her mind. He said that as long as she stayed and became Mrs. Montague, he would help the Windsor family and help Oliver, so Oliver wouldn't have to go to prison.
She said she needed to think about it, but she already knew her decision.
She just felt sad. Over a year ago, she had begged Henry so much, but he chose to ignore her. Now that she no longer loved him, fate still tied her to him.
Grace didn't sleep all night.
At dawn, a nurse knocked on the door and came in. As the door opened, a sliver of light spilled in, like a beam of light suddenly piercing the dark world.
The light was blinding, and Henry shielded his eyes as he sat up.
Henry was the young and handsome president of Montague Group Hospital. The young nurse almost didn't dare look at him and said softly, "Mr. Montague, Mrs. Montague needs to change her dressing."
Henry nodded slightly and looked at Grace.
Grace was awake, too, but she looked haggard, and the white pillow behind her was soaked. It seemed she had cried most of the night. Was she so aggrieved being married to him?
Henry's gaze was profoundly intense. With a click of his tongue and a sneer, he rose to freshen up. Upon his return, he found that the nurse had already replaced the dressing.
The nurse said softly, "It's healing well, and there shouldn't be any scars. It's best not to get the wound wet for the next few days."
Grace nodded and watched the nurse leave.
Left alone in the room with Grace, Henry fixed his gaze on her face, poised to deliver a sarcastic comment. Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang, interrupting the moment.
It was Celeste, reminding him that Gavin was arriving in Evergreen City today and that dinner had been arranged for the evening, where he could bring Elodie to meet Gavin.
Celeste's voice wasn't low, and Grace heard it too.
Henry glanced at Grace and spoke, "I got it."
He hung up the phone, his long fingers playing with it, and asked nonchalantly, "Don't you want to ask me something?"
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