Chapter 99 Henry, Did you Let Her Stay in the Special Ward?
Around noon, the maid found Grace.
Even though it was daytime, the study lights were still on. Grace was sprawled on the dark wooden desk, wearing just a black bathrobe. Her body was marked and her tears had dried.
She lay still, her face flushed and burning hot.
The maid was shocked. "Mrs. Montague has a fever!" she exclaimed.
Realizing the situation, the maid quickly called Henry, but he didn't answer.
Henry was in a long meeting with Montague Group executives about a risky project. With half of them opposed it, the marathon session had dragged on for over 10 hours.
Unable to reach Henry, the maid called the driver.
Respecting Grace's dignity, the maids dressed her and put a coat on her. They barely looked at her, thinking Henry was too harsh.
As they lifted her, a pair of cufflinks fell from her hand, shining on the dark carpet like tears.
In the car, Grace was barely conscious.
The maid took her temperature: 104.4 degrees Fahrenheit. Panicked, she called Henry again, but still no answer. The elderly maid cried, sensing this might be the end for Henry and Grace.
The driver sped to the Montague Group's Hospital.
They arrived half an hour later. The hospital, owned by the Montague family, usually had special wards available without waiting. But this time, the special ward was occupied.
The nurse wouldn't say who was in it.
The driver, frustrated, said, "Mrs. Montague is Mr. Montague's wife. If she doesn't qualify, who does?"
Grace, burning with fever, wanted to see for herself. She pushed open the door and saw Elodie in the bed.
Elodie, looking frail but serene, was eating fruit handed to her by Rebecca. "Henry said he'd come see me tonight! Mom, I think he still cares about me," she said.
Grace, on the verge of breaking down, didn't disturb them. She turned to the driver and said, "Sawyer, get a regular ward."
The driver and maid, teary-eyed, felt for her.
Grace, supported by them, painfully walked down the corridor. Each step hurt. Henry had caused this pain, while he cared for someone else in the special ward.
For Grace, it was disgusting.
Henry claimed Elodie wasn't his mistress, yet she was in the special ward. What did that make Grace, his wife?
Grace stopped and looked out the window. Snow had gathered on the branches, looking bleak.
She remembered that night at Tranquil Heights, where roses bloomed. That night, she quietly fell for him.
Turns out, she was the only one who had fallen.
What did it matter that she was framed back then? What did it matter that he knew? To him, she was still just a tool, a pretty plaything.
'Grace, you're so ridiculous,' she thought to herself.
In the Montague Group's meeting room, the atmosphere was tense.
Celeste hurried in and whispered to Henry.
Henry looked up at her.
Celeste, trying to stay composed, said, "Her fever is very high, and she has injuries. There was also some friction during admission. Grace probably knows about Elodie in the special ward."
Henry sat quietly for a moment, then stood up. "Meeting adjourned!"
He walked out quickly, with Celeste following. "The car is ready! Mr. Montague, are we going to the hospital now?"
Henry didn't respond.
In the car, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He pictured Grace on the desk, hearing her say, "Henry, you don't know how to love."
Why did he treat her that way? Maybe because those words hit home. Because he didn't know how to love, and Grace had nailed it.
When Henry arrived at the hospital, he didn't see Grace. Owen stopped him outside.
Owen's eyes were red. He glared at Henry in the corridor. "Finally decided to check on her? Henry, if you don't care about her, let her go. Stop trying to hold onto everyone!"
Owen, though an outsider, was furious. He pulled out a document and a check. "This is the contract for our collaboration and a $30 million check. I'm returning the money! Even if I have to sell everything, even if Mr. Garcia has to perform on the streets, we won't take your investment again! To you, Grace is just a commodity. But to us, she's priceless!"
Owen's voice choked. "If you don't let go, you'll destroy her! Do you know how talented she is? She already gave up one opportunity for you."
Henry sneered. "Grace is my wife; I don't need you to stand up for her!"
Owen was ready to fight.
From the hospital room, Grace's voice came softly. "Owen, let him in. I need to talk to him."
Owen, fuming, left first.
Henry stood at the door, looking at Grace. She was weak, leaning against the headboard, her long sleeves unable to hide the marks he left on her, now turning pale blue.
Despite last night's roughness, he didn't feel satisfied. In fact, as he withdrew from her, he felt an unprecedented emptiness he couldn't explain.
Grace looked up, meeting his gaze.
After everything, the once-shared intimacy and affection had vanished. Her eyes no longer held sweetness, rendering him unable to speak those once-beloved words.
It was as if overnight, they had become strangers.
Henry spoke calmly, "Feeling better?"
Grace's eyes were slightly red. "Henry, after comforting me, what's next? Bringing Sherry over to call me mom, softening my heart, and then explaining that you let Elodie stay in the special ward out of pity? Henry, I can't play your twisted games. I admit defeat!"
"Last night, you said everything I use and wear is bought with your money. Yes, it's your money!"
"But Henry, I'd rather not have those things! Didn't I exchange three years of my youth and countless humiliations for these material things? I ain't asking for more, but I sure as hell won't settle for less."
Henry's face darkened. "What do you mean, Grace? What do you mean by this?"
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
