Chapter 743 He Wondered If It Was Time to Forgive Her
After Molly left, Elliot departed as well.
He returned to the Windsor Mansion in the dead of night.
As expected, Oliver was lying in wait like a spider in its web. The moment he saw Elliot's expression, he let out a dry laugh. "Rolling in at this ungodly hour, looking like you've been dragged through hell! With that face, what girl in her right mind would want you?"
Elliot shrugged off his coat, his voice flat, "We just don't get along."
Oliver said deliberately, "So what is it? Is she just not respectable enough for your taste, or do you think her character is beneath you?"
Elliot replied coolly, "Molly isn't like that."
Oliver's laughter grew sharper, cutting through the air twice. "Finally admitting it, are we? You've got Molly lodged in your heart! If you like her, then chase her properly instead of playing these ridiculous games. This whole year, you've been on countless blind dates—this one's not right, that one's not right. Truth is, your heart's already taken."
Elliot felt irritation crawling under his skin. He sat down and lit a cigarette, his face a mask of troubled thoughts.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the second floor. Sarah was coming downstairs.
Sarah descended the stairs with elegant composure and settled beside Elliot, her voice gentle, "If you truly care for Molly, then court her properly. Elliot, where's your confidence? I believe any woman would come to love you once she gets to know you. Sometimes you're stubborn, but maybe she's just as stubborn."
Elliot's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, "It's not that I can't forget her. Mom, Dad—I can't forgive her. Or maybe I can't forgive my own foolishness."
Oliver and Sarah had heard whispers about what happened years ago.
Oliver sighed deeply: "Elliot, all I can say is that people need to look forward. If you want love now, you'll have to sacrifice something. Some people sacrifice their pride, others their principles. If every love story were perfect, where would all the heartbreak songs come from?"
Oliver and Sarah left it at that, giving Elliot space to process their words.
In the quiet hours of the night, Elliot found himself thinking of Molly's smile, her tears.
He'd heard the news—Magnolia had passed away. Molly was truly alone now.
No, she still had Blake.
Upstairs, at the top of the staircase.
Oliver and Sarah crouched in the corner. Oliver nudged Sarah. "You think Elliot's ever going to catch on?"
Sarah gave him a look. "Honestly, he's probably two steps ahead of you."
Oliver grinned. "Oh, come on. The only reason he's so sharp is because he got my brains."
Sarah snorted. "Here we go again."
Oliver laughed. "Hey, it's true! And let's face it, without my looks, he and Jacob wouldn't get half the attention they do. Even you can't resist me, right?"
Sarah shook her head, smiling despite herself. Before she could reply, Elliot walked over and just shook his head at them, like he'd walked in on two kids arguing over nothing.
"Dad, be careful. Don't throw out your back."
Oliver muttered, "This boy, always killing the mood."
Sarah scolded him under her breath.
Elliot ignored their banter and walked straight to his bedroom, collapsing onto the king-sized bed. He lay there staring at the ceiling, thinking about Molly, about everything that had happened tonight.
Forgive her, then promise forever?
Before Elliot could untangle his thoughts, disaster struck Molly.
By morning, every entertainment headline was running exposés on Molly's past—her troubled parents, her history with street gangs, every sordid detail dragged into the light and twisted into something ugly.
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