Chapter 220: You Love Her
The air seemed to fall silent for a moment.
Jerry stared straight at me. "When did this happen?"
I answered truthfully, "Yesterday."
He said sarcastically, "So, what you're saying is... You went back to him for two years, realized it still wouldn't work, and now you're thinking of turning to me?"
My fingers tightened involuntarily, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, his gaze unyielding, full of scrutiny and questioning.
I quickly withdrew my hand and stood up hastily, instinctively denying, "No."
Jerry laughed roguishly, "Then what is it?"
I avoided his gaze. "Is your leg feeling any better?"
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer, his voice gritty. "Hope Royston, aren't you good at being sarcastic? Why aren't you talking now? Feeling guilty?"
His grip wasn't strong, and I easily broke free with a bit of effort, whispering, "Jerry! If you insist on thinking that I'm feeling guilty, then so be it."
Maybe I was feeling guilty after all.
He smirked, "Do you know what kind of people usually say that?"
I looked at him. "What?"
Jerry sneered, "Fickle women."
I pressed my lips together. "It's getting late, I should go."
With that, I fled.
Jerry watched my retreating figure, a trace of restraint crossing his face. It wasn't until the door clicked shut that he lowered his head, picked up his phone, and looked at the chat interface. Finally, he smiled.
Sophia came out of the game room across the hall, her mouth twitching. "You just let her go?"
Jerry responded, a hint of resignation in his tone, "What else could I have done?"
"I overheard her mentioning she's divorced. If you don't make a move now, her ex might swoop back in and catch you off guard," Sophia urged.
Jerry's eyes narrowed. "Is that why you swiped my phone to message her?"
Sophia's smile widened. "Don't sweat the small stuff. Without my intervention, would you even know your 'friend' is now single?"
Jerry sighed, "Sophia, do you know what I despise the most?"
"Being played," she replied intuitively.
As the sole heir of the Hammer family, Jerry had rarely faced setbacks in life. With just a mere glance, people would scramble to cater to him. There were only two instances where life didn’t bow down to his will.
One was Carlos, his scheming brother, for whom Jerry had crafted an intricate trap, patiently awaiting the day Carlos would have a taste of his revenge.
The other was Hope Royston.
She had vanished without a trace, with Jerry relentlessly seeking her for over twenty years. When he finally found her, she dropped the bombshell that she intended to stay with Christopher, leaving Jerry's pride in tatters.
Now, Hope had resurfaced, casually announcing her divorce yet maintaining an air of indifference. It was a blow to Jerry's unyielding pride, a feeling anyone in his shoes would find unbearable.
Sophia pondered for a moment before turning to Jerry. "If you truly despise her, I have a way to teach her a lesson."
Jerry's frown deepened. "When did I say I hate her?"
He didn't hate Hope; he just couldn't stand the idea of being her fallback option once again. He yearned for her genuine love but loathed always being the one to chase, appearing desperate.
Sophia, now perplexed, murmured, "I thought you said you hated being..."
Jerry cut in, "I hate the situation, not the person."
Sophia almost chuckled, "Why don't you just admit that no matter what Hope Royston does, you don't hate her? You love her!"
She couldn't resist an inward grumble—how could the Hammers produce someone so hopelessly smitten?
"If you care for her that much, why let her leave in this torrential rain?" Sophia observed, moving to the window only to cough abruptly. "Her ex-husband works fast."
Jerry, who had been feigning indifference, suddenly sprang to life, grabbing a blanket and striding to the window. There, by the Rolls-Royce, stood Hope. His jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his fury, eventually kicking over the rocking chair in the study in frustration.
Sophia quietly called a doctor that night. The doctor advised Jerry against attempting to stand for at least two weeks.
By the Rolls-Royce, the driver shielded Hope with an umbrella as Christopher sat inside, his voice low and gravelly. "You won't even step into my car?"
I replied, "I think it's better to keep some distance post-divorce."
"It's about Claire."
"What's..."
Christopher interrupted me, "Get in the car. I'll tell you."
I hesitated slightly before sliding into the car. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with the lingering stale scent of cigarettes, mildly unsettling.
Christopher noticed and promptly rolled the window down a notch. As the car moved through the rain, the air gradually cleared, the acrid smell dissipating.
I turned to him, my curiosity piqued. "So, can you tell me now?"
He glanced at me, his deep voice resonating with a newfound urgency. "I've made contact with an expert who can treat Claire."
My eyes widened with hope. "Really?"
Christopher nodded, a rare smile softening his stern features. "Yes. He'll be arriving in Maple Valley soon. I'll introduce you; he's agreed to take on Claire's case."
"That’s amazing!" Despite my excitement, unease crept in. "But can he truly help Claire?"
Christopher's smile turned wistful. "Don't worry. I may have failed you in our marriage, but I've never lied about anything else."
A laugh escaped me, though I couldn't quite tell if it sprang from helplessness or genuine amusement.
Christopher's words rang true. It could be his business acumen; in all other matters, he was unfailingly straightforward, never making promises he couldn't keep.
Reflecting on the past, my gratitude surfaced unbidden. "Thank you for everything you've done for the Harris family these last two years."
Without his support, Claire's recovery would've been far slower. Kimberly wouldn't have dared to assert control over the family business, regardless of her desperation.
Christopher's gaze dropped, his lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. His voice was deep and solemn. "There’s no need to thank me. I haven’t even begun to repay what I owe you. So, ‘thanks’ isn’t necessary."
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