Chapter 95 Mrs. Montague, Come Home with Me!
Henry hung up the phone and leaned back on the couch, watching the light snow. He imagined Grace curled up on the sofa.
He could drive to her place now and win her over again, but he didn't need to. He already had her heart and soul. He knew that Grace was once again engulfed in the depths of their former love.
It was a quiet, snowy night.
A servant knocked on the study door and said, "Mr. Montague, Mr. Williams is here to see you. He says it's urgent."
Henry guessed it was Elodie's father, Calvin Williams. He didn't want to see him, so he said, "Send him away. Tell him I'm resting."
The servant hesitated. "Mr. Williams is kneeling outside. It's freezing, and if he stays out there, it could make the news."
At one in the morning, Henry met Calvin. Calvin, a lifelong driver who had only recently started living well thanks to Elodie, was overwhelmed by the mansion's luxury. His legs, covered in snow, trembled.
The servant brought him coffee. Calvin stood, head lowered, trembling as he held the cup.
Henry, tired, said, "Elodie's condition is stable. Once the snow stops, she can go abroad for treatment. You and your wife will go with her. The money will be enough for you to live comfortably."
Calvin spilled most of the coffee. Tearfully, he said, "We'd rather call it waiting for death than treatment. Mr. Montague, I know Elodie has caused trouble, but for the sake of the past, please let her stay here."
Calvin knelt, tears streaming. "I've discussed with her mother, once Elodie dies, we'll take her ashes home. I promise, I'll won't let her mother causes any more trouble."
He placed two items on the table and left quietly.
Henry picked up the items: a photo of a frail Elodie and a vinyl record. He played the record, recognizing the violin piece Elodie had played for him when he was in a coma. The sorrowful melody was heart-wrenching.
Moved, Henry listened for a long time. Late at night, he called Celeste and said, "Transfer Elodie to a special ward. Make sure the Williams family stays in the hospital and doesn't disturb Grace."
Celeste was stunned. It took her a moment to gather herself, and she couldn't help but say, "Mr. Montague, the special ward is reserved for family. If Grace finds out, she'll be upset."
Henry replied, "Just do it."
Celeste had no choice but to follow orders. Before hanging up, she added, "Mr. Montague, I think you'll regret this someday."
After hanging up, Celeste took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with tears. She knew the whole story—how Grace had come back to Henry and how he had repeatedly betrayed her. Celeste once thought Henry loved Grace, but now it seemed his love was too shallow to withstand anything.
The next evening, the snow still hadn't stopped. Grace left the music center and saw Henry's car parked outside. She paused, letting the snowflakes fall on her hair, feeling conflicted.
Two hours earlier, Owen had gone to the Montague Group to sign a contract with Henry, accepting his $30 million investment, making Henry the biggest sponsor of Gavin's global classical music tour. Grace had thought about this decision all night, seeing it as a last chance.
The door of the black Bentley opened, and Henry stepped out, holding Sherry in one arm. Their eyes met and lingered. Henry walked up to her, brushed the snow from her hair, and gently said, "Your eyes are still red. Did you cry a lot last night?"
She turned away, too embarrassed to admit it. Henry pulled her into his arms, kissed her hair, and softly said, "Come home with me, Mrs. Montague."
Grace's cheek rested on his shoulder. His neck was warm, and he had a faint, pleasant smell of tobacco. Henry kissed her for a long time, murmuring, "I thought about you all night."
Inside the warm car, Grace took off her coat and leaned back in the seat. "I think I should go back. It's too fast, Henry. I'm not ready yet."
Sherry jumped around in her arms. Henry picked Sherry up and placed her in the back seat. Sherry barked at Henry but eventually lay down.
Henry turned to Grace and said softly, "Feelings don't need preparation. Only having a baby needs preparation."
Grace's dazed look was a bit cute. Henry leaned in to kiss her, deeply and shallowly, for a long time, but still wasn't satisfied. His voice was low and mature, "When should we have one? Grace, I want to be a dad. Preferably a daughter, so when I come home from work, she'll run to me in a little dress, calling for daddy, wanting to be held."
Henry's words were beautiful, but Grace was almost in tears. She leaned weakly against the seat, making a final resistance, "I don't know how this will end. Henry, can I trust you one more time?"
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