Chapter 87 Take Off Your Shoes and Come Sit on My Lap
Grace dragged herself back to her rented apartment. The half-cooked food sat there, a sad reminder of her broken spirit.
In the dim light, she huddled on the floor, not bothering to turn on the heater, staring into space.
Memories of the past flooded in—dreams of marrying Henry, having a family of four, and a dog.
"Be its mom, okay?" Henry's gentle words cut deep. Six years of love, how could she just forget?
Grace stayed outside all night. By morning, her throat was sore—she must've caught a cold.
Her phone rang; it was Clara, inviting her home for the holiday.
"Holiday?" Grace was confused.
Clara chuckled, "Forgot? It's New Year's Day. Your dad has been counting down till you come back." Her voice softened, "He might not show it, but he's really worried about you."
Silence hung on the line. Grace sat up. "I'll come for lunch."
After hanging up, she freshened up in the bathroom. Scrubbing her face, she tried to push Henry out of her mind.
By noon, Grace arrived at the Windsor's temporary place. Clara had set up a feast. "Come on, dig in! This dish is packed with all the good stuff. Eat up!" she urged.
Nathan put down his fork. "Clara said you moved out?"
Grace nodded, looking down.
Nathan paused, then softly said, "No matter what you decide, no one blames you, and Oliver doesn't either."
Grace nodded again, tears welling up.
Clara quickly changed the subject. "Grace, you'll be debuting with Mr. Garcia soon. Let's focus on perfecting that violin piece and set aside personal stuff for now."
Nathan stayed quiet. No one mentioned the Tranquil Heights incident; it was a sore spot for everyone.
In the evening, Clara called Grace from the kitchen.
"What's up, Clara?" Grace asked.
Clara pointed downstairs. "He's here. Go talk to him! If your dad sees him, he'll get mad again. He's still upset about the last incident."
Grace looked down and saw Henry's car, a flashy black Bentley.
The Bentley's door opened. Henry stepped out, wearing a dark gray wool coat that made his white shirt look even crisper and his features more striking.
He held a puppy in one arm and closed the car door with the other. Then, he casually looked up and locked eyes with Grace.
Grace put on her coat and told Clara she was heading downstairs. As soon as she got outside, she instinctively buried her face in her coat collar. The warm camel coat complemented her skin, making her look delicate and beautiful.
"What are you doing here?" Grace asked, keeping her distance from Henry.
Before Henry could respond, the puppy in his arms barked twice. Henry's elegant fingers moved to comfort it. "Would you prefer mommy to hold you instead?"
He looked at Grace. In the twilight, her face flushed slightly. "I'm not its mom," she said.
Henry's gaze deepened. "But I want to be a dad!"
Grace's eyes dropped for a moment before locking onto Henry's with a serious look. "Henry, can we just be normal? If you're looking for someone to play love games with, find someone else. I'm not up for it! If that's all, I'm heading back upstairs. And could you please move your car? My dad really doesn't need this added stress!"
"Wait!" Henry stopped her. He turned and took a document from the car, handing it to Grace. "Oliver's trial date is set. It will be soon."
Grace took it and read it several times. "It's still so far away," she muttered.
Henry looked into her eyes, his voice soft. "After the trial, are you planning to formally ask for a divorce?"
Grace remained silent, but it was clear that this was on her mind.
As the evening breeze tousled his hair, Henry's gaze intensified. Dressed elegantly in a white shirt and charcoal wool coat, he looked just like the man Grace had always admired.
Locking eyes with her, Henry continued, "We've been getting along well recently, haven't we? We could have started a family in a couple of years. Grace, we could have been one of the happiest couples out there!"
Grace gripped the document tightly. After a while, she looked up slightly, her voice choked. "It's very tempting! But Henry, for that, I would have to break and rebuild myself. I would have to hide my pain behind tears, never letting anyone glimpse the truth. I would have to wear a mask to continue being Mrs. Montague, to be your partner. I would have to play deaf and dumb just to find a semblance of happiness."
"Our children, even if we had them, you wouldn't let me be involved. You would mold them into what you want."
"Just like how you control me! My clothes, makeup, hairstyle—none of them are without your preference. I don't want my children to end up like that, living only for you without their own identity," Grace said resolutely.
Henry's gaze held a depth of emotion as he spoke softly, "Grace, how about we start with Sherry? I'll leave her to you, and I won't interfere with how you raise her. I'll just be the dad, and everything will be up to the mom."
Henry's tenderness had a persuasive charm that was hard to resist. After all, how many women could turn away from someone like him? This moment felt like a scene from Grace's youthful dreams.
But Grace knew she had to make a tough decision. She had to let go of past hopes and her deep affection for Henry. It was time to step away from his world and into the life meant for her.
"I'm sorry, I can't," Grace murmured, then walked away without looking back, tears welling up in her eyes.
Henry stood in the wind, seeing her tears. Though it was calculated, he was somewhat moved. He liked talking to Grace this way, liked watching her gently speak her mind, even if it was unpleasant, even if it was about leaving him.
The puppy in his arms barked twice.
Henry was about to open the car door when a scream came from the hallway—it was Clara's voice. "An ambulance! An ambulance! Help carry him down."
Henry immediately put the dog in the car, leaving a crack in the window. He glanced at Sherry and then ran towards the Windsor family, taking the stairs since the elevator was broken.
The door swung open with a loud creak, and Nathan stumbled forward, clutching his chest in agony. He collapsed on the floor, unconscious and pale. Grace's heart pounded as she knelt beside him, tears streaming down her face. With trembling hands, she began performing CPR, her voice trembling as she called out for help.
"Let me!" Henry took off his coat and gently tapped Grace's hand, signaling her to let go.
He had graduated from medical school before studying finance abroad. His technique was far more professional than Grace's, and soon Nathan was breathing again.
"Dad!" Grace cried with joy, terrified.
Nathan opened his eyes to see Grace and Henry beside him.
Henry also breathed a sigh of relief. He knelt beside Nathan, took out his phone from his coat pocket, and made a call. "Prepare an examination room at the hospital immediately; a patient is being sent over."
The person on the other end stiffened, then answered, "Yes, Mr. Montague!"
Henry handed the phone to Grace and gently lifted Nathan, carrying him downstairs as the elevator was broken.
Ten flights of stairs, a 150-pound man—by the time they reached the bottom, the back of Henry's white shirt was soaked, but he didn't even have time to wipe his sweat. He instructed the panicked Clara, "Support Nathan from behind so he doesn't fall!"
He then told Grace to get in the car and hold the dog. The black Bentley sped towards the Montague Group's hospital.
Thanks to the timely rescue and the best medical team, Nathan was fine and would be okay after a few days in the hospital.
As the night wore on, Grace stayed by her father's bedside, dark circles under her eyes showing her exhaustion. Clara, noticing, felt a surge of empathy. "You need some rest, Grace. I'll stay with your dad, or we can get a nurse."
Grace shook her head gently. "I want to stay with Dad."
Just then, Henry walked in, carrying several lunch boxes from the hospital's executive menu, filled with nutritious food. He set them down and gently urged, "Clara, you should eat something too. I'll take Grace to rest next door."
Clara, grateful for his help, quickly stood up. "Henry, thank you so much for today!"
Henry detected the politeness and responded in kind, "Grace and I are married! Clara, please don't be so formal."
With that, he wrapped his arm around Grace's shoulder and somewhat forcefully led her away.
Grace followed without resistance, finding herself in the VIP room across the hall. Standing in the dimly lit space, she spoke softly, "Henry, I have nothing to thank you for! I also know you don't do things for no reason."
Henry paused in the midst of unbuttoning his shirt, surprised by her words. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze meeting hers under the harsh hospital lights. After a moment, he made his way to the nearby sofa and settled down, a smile playing on his lips. "You certainly have me figured out," he remarked. "So, tell me, what do you think I'm after?"
Grace lowered her head and gently unbuttoned her silk shirt. The soft fabric slipped away, revealing her translucent skin, which trembled slightly, making Henry feel a surge of desire.
Grace's voice was raspy. "I don't know what you want, but all I can offer is my body. Henry, I'd rather give you this than my feelings. If you wish to be with me physically, let it be just that. Once it's over, we are even, with no debts lingering between us."
Grace spoke plainly, but the act was deeply humiliating.
Henry took a sip from a nearby mug. After drinking, he stared at her back, his tone slightly stern. "Aren't you going to offer yourself, Mrs. Montague? Why not turn around? How can I get excited if I can't see you?"
Grace's fingers curled slightly, and she slowly turned around.
Henry leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands forming a pyramid shape, giving off a bit of a seductive vibe.
He stared at Grace's flushed face, his voice very soft. "Take off your shoes and come sit on my lap."
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