Chapter 96 He Didn't Want Any Weakness
Returning to the villa felt like ages had passed.
Henry parked at the entrance, grabbed Grace's coat, and handed it to her with a deep look. "The snow's light. Let's take a walk."
Grace worried about Sherry. "Will she be cold?"
Henry glanced back and said, "I'll hold her as long as you don't get jealous."
Grace put on her coat and opened the door. "I won't get jealous!"
Henry chuckled, picked up Sherry, and patted her head. "Mommy's mad!"
Sherry barked twice.
Henry put on his coat, got out with Sherry, and caught up with Grace. Sherry lay quietly in his arms.
Snow fell gently. Grace couldn't resist touching Sherry's head.
Henry caught her hand when she pulled back.
His warm hand held hers, the touch intimate. He put her hand in his coat pocket and wrapped his arm around her waist, half of her body leaning against him.
"Henry!" Grace's voice was hoarse, wanting him to let go.
Henry looked down at her.
He didn't speak, but his eyes held a tender look.
Inside, the servants had hot food and soup ready, urging Grace to eat more.
Grace found the food delicious.
The servant smiled. "If Mrs. Montague likes it, I'll make it again." She rubbed her apron and went back to the kitchen.
The villa was warm. Henry took off his coat, wearing just a white shirt and dark gray trousers. He opened a bottle of red wine, took a few bites, and drank two glasses, his face slightly flushed, looking handsome.
He ate little, constantly placing food in front of Grace. Grace softly said she couldn't eat that much.
Henry swirled his wine glass, his gaze deep, with a hint of teasing and aggression.
Grace didn't plan to stay overnight but thought acting coy would seem pretentious, so she didn't mention leaving.
At night, the snow intensified. In the east bedroom, the heating made it feel like spring.
Grace took a bath and sat at the dressing table applying skincare. Halfway through, she stopped and opened the small drawer. Her half-burned diary had been repaired and lay there quietly.
If not for the remaining half of the text, she would have thought nothing had happened, that the arguments and sadness were illusions. But the half-empty pages told her it all really happened.
[I won't let go, just because I haven't had enough fun!]
[Henry, we're done!]
[Henry, I'm tired, I'm done dealing with you.]
Memories of hurt and accusations surged, making Grace's eyes wet.
"What are you thinking about?" Henry's voice stopped her thoughts. His strong arms wrapped around her waist. Fresh from the bath, his warmth seeped through her thin bathrobe, making her legs weak.
Grace's voice was faint. "Nothing!"
She put the diary back and closed the drawer.
Henry's face was close to hers, looking in the mirror together. He murmured, "If you're not thinking, why is your face so red?"
Grace didn't dare look in the mirror.
Henry, just out of the bath, wore only a loosely tied bathrobe, making him irresistibly tempting.
Henry asked, "When are we retaking our wedding photos?"
Marrying Henry and taking dreamy wedding photos was once Grace's fantasy, but now she no longer felt that urge. She softly said, "It's not necessary."
Henry picked her up and placed her at the foot of the bed.
Her soft body sank into the mattress, making her feel uneasy. She tried to get up, but Henry gently held her down.
He leaned close, kissing her wet eyes, his voice low and hoarse. "I think they're very necessary! Mrs. Montague, I want to make you happy. Tell me what to do. What do you want now?" He intertwined his fingers with hers.
Henry was handsome and knew how to flirt. What woman could resist, especially when Grace had loved him for six years? She melted under him.
When Henry kissed her, she couldn't help but lift her body, trembling as she responded.
But he laughed softly and pulled away.
Grace wanted more, her face flushed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Henry laughed joyfully, then kissed her passionately, satisfying her.
Their shadows intertwined on the wall. They burned with passion all night.
Mutual affection made a difference. Henry enjoyed himself several times that night.
In the morning, Grace dressed warmly and took Sherry downstairs to build a snowman.
Henry, in comfortable loungewear, lazily leaned on the sofa. He watched Grace and Sherry through the floor-to-ceiling window. Grace seemed to really like Sherry. When the little dog got stuck in the snow, Grace would pick her up and even give her kisses.
The little snowman she built looked like Sherry.
Sherry seemed to notice too, barking happily and jumping around, leaving cute paw prints.
Henry watched for a while and smiled. Just then, his phone rang. It was Aurora.
Henry answered, his smile fading. "What's up?"
Aurora didn't mince words. "I heard you put Elodie in a special ward. Henry, are you crazy? What status does she have to stay there? If someone finds out, how will you explain it? As your mistress?"
Henry rubbed his forehead. "She's already there."
Aurora was furious. "You're doing this to spite me, aren't you? I dealt with her for your own good! And don't forget, Henry, the one sleeping next to you is Grace. Don't you want her back? Does she know what you're doing?"
Henry watched as Grace came up with the dog.
He hung up.
'Grace won't know!' he thought. Including the fact that he had a team of psychologists analyzing Grace, no one dared to tell her. Besides, what could she do if she knew? After this period, Henry believed she couldn't leave him.
Just like three years ago, she depended on him, bound to this marriage.
Maybe he had softened towards her, but wasn't their relationship an exchange? He gave a little money and effort, and in return, he got her affection, admiration, and body.
In Henry's mind, treating her well was enough.
He could like her, but he wouldn't love her. Love would become his weakness, and Henry didn't want any weaknesses!
Grace ran upstairs, wanting to take a bath, but Henry pulled her onto the sofa.
He took off her wet shoes and socks, holding her delicate feet and pulling her into his arms. Grace sensed something was wrong, gently stroking his eyebrows and softly asking, "What's wrong? You seem troubled."
Henry didn't speak.
His hand slipped under her sweater, a clear desire for intimacy evident. Grace blushed and held his hand, her face red. "Stop it! Juniper is being discharged today, I need to be with her!"
Henry stopped, his handsome face looking at her.
After a moment, he picked up a cigarette, lit it, and as the smoke rose, he squinted at her. "Go take a bath! Don't catch a cold."
Grace leaned over to kiss his chin, then ran off happily, resembling a contented puppy.
Under the light, Henry's gaze was dark and unreadable.
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