Chapter 87 Arranged Matches
Celia's reach was too far, her meddling too invasive, especially when it came to controlling Finnegan's marital future, something that only served to deepen the rift between mother and son.
Celia's eyes became even redder, her discomfort growing as she tried to explain, "Finnegan, I didn't mean anything by it, I only want what's best for you."
"I've had enough of that phrase," Finnegan said coldly, "If you don't want our relationship to become even more strained, then stay out of my business."
Celia's heart ached at her son's indifference.
"Finnegan, you and your mom at it again, huh? Stop fighting now, no more arguing," Old lady Abbott said, walking over after hearing the commotion.
Seeing old lady Abbott, Finnegan's expression softened and his tone became gentler: "Grandma, it's stuffy in here. Let's go play some chess downstairs."
Finnegan supported old lady Abbott as they went downstairs, not once glancing back at Celia.
Watching her son treat old lady Abbott with such care while being so cold to her, his own mother, Celia felt a pang of jealousy and anger.
Celia had a strong desire for control, preferring everyone to heed her commands. She was the decision-maker in the household. Any challenge to her wishes was met with dire consequences.
Raised under this suffocating maternal presence, Finnegan's relationship with his mother was naturally tense.
Their encounters were always marked with discomfort, a constant struggle of one trying to interfere and the other resisting.
At dinner, Celia couldn't exchange a word with Finnegan. He ignored everything she said.
Later that night, when Jude Abbott returned home and learned of the discord, he pretended to be asleep to avoid becoming collateral damage.
However, Jude couldn't escape.
Just as he laid down, Celia woke him up, "You come home and go straight to bed as if this is a hotel? Your son comes and goes as he pleases. Are you both trying to drive me to an early grave?"
Resigned, Jude sat and listened to Celia's tirade: "You and the boy have been at odds for years. What's the point? He's grown now, and you should ease off. He's taken over the company successfully, so why are you still worried?"
Jude had lived a carefree life. Before Finnegan took over, old lady Abbott was at the helm of Abbott's Family.
With Old lady Abbott retired, Finnegan was in charge.
Jude never worried about finances, relying first on his elders and now on his son, never once burdened by livelihood concerns throughout his life.
"No matter how big, that's still my boy," Celia said. "Finnegan is already thirty and not married. Aren't you worried? There used to be a Grace Parker around him, and she clearly wasn't a decent woman. And recently, he's taken in some woman from who-knows-where, homely looking and not presentable..."
Jude listened with a headache brewing, "No matter who our son dates, you're never satisfied. What kind of daughter-in-law are you actually looking for?"
"Someone like Niamh," Celia perked up, smiling as she said, "You've forgotten – our family has a marriage arrangement with the Parks Family. Niamh is twenty-five, Finnegan's thirty, a match of equals both in looks and social standing – a match made in heaven. Dovie mentioned it to me recently. You must've forgotten due to your mom's Alzheimer's. I'll handle the arrangements."
Jude asked, "Has our son agreed?"
"Our matriarch made that arrangement. He may not be satisfied with my plans, but he wouldn’t go against his grandmother's wishes," Celia said confidently, "I’m certain this will work out."
"Do whatever you want. After all, I have no say in this household," Jude Abbott lay down to sleep.
Mason Abbott got into trouble, and Finnegan didn't hesitate to send him straight to the station. Even his pleadings as a father had no effect.
Jude was beyond controlling anyone. He simply washed his hands of it all.
...
Ophelia had to work overtime today, not getting off until eleven o'clock.
She dragged her tired body home and just as she stepped out of the elevator, she saw a figure at her door.
'Can it be Finnegan again?'
With that thought, Ophelia hurried over...
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