Chapter 720 Grace and Quentin Confess Their Feelings to Each Other 1
"Caroline still remembers me. She thought I was your secretary and asked if the ring looked good."
"What did you say?"
"The ring does look good."
Quentin nodded. "I think the ring looks good, too, but it wasn't meant for her. I never intended to give it to her; she took it herself."
"Well."
Grace nodded, her expression indifferent.
Quentin couldn't hold back. "Why don't you ask who the ring was meant for?"
"There's no need."
"How is there no need? Grace, is it that whatever I do, you don't care? But I'm the opposite; I think it's very necessary." Quentin's voice suddenly rose.
"I told you, I hoped you'd give me a satisfactory answer when we met again. Is this your answer?"
Grace bit her lip.
He and Caroline were still engaged, and there were too many misunderstandings and entanglements between them.
How could she respond before everything was resolved?
"Quentin, you always ask me for answers, but what about you?"
"Have you ever given me any promises? Don't forget, as of today, Caroline is your legitimate fiancée. What identity do you expect me to assume?"
"A mistress? Or your kept secret lover? Which of these titles do you think I would like?"
Grace didn't hold back, expressing all her grievances and dissatisfaction in one breath.
Quentin was suddenly stunned, as if waking from a dream.
He looked up and, in a moment of vulnerability, reached out to hug Grace, his eyes filled with guilt and tenderness. "I'm sorry, Grace. It's my fault. I was only focused on your attitude and ignored what you truly cared about."
"Don't be mad, okay?"
Grace nodded. "We should both give each other more time."
"Okay."
That night, they didn't sleep in the same room.
But Quentin insisted on staying until Grace fell asleep before leaving.
Having slept for a few hours at noon, she wasn't very sleepy.
So after washing her hair and taking a bath, Grace lay on the couch reading a book.
When Quentin came out of the bathroom, he saw a warm and gentle scene.
One of the beauties and happiness that had appeared in his dreams countless times. But as soon as he walked to the couch, he turned back to the bathroom.
When the warm air gently blew on her head and the sound of the hairdryer reached her ears, Grace realized he was drying her hair.
Then, his voice sounded in her ear.
"Next time, don't come out with wet hair. If you don't want to dry it, call me to do it. Sleeping with wet hair gives you a headache."
Grace looked up at Quentin, who was tall and gentle, doing all the most ordinary and trivial things for her, and felt truly moved.
Her hair was continuously blown by the warm air.
Just like her heart, always warmed by a gentle current.
His eyebrows were as handsome as ever, and every move he made was marked by a gentle grace.
At that moment, she felt like they were the most ordinary couple, holding hands, confidently growing old together.
But back to reality.
There were too many barriers and gaps between them.
Caroline was one; Ruby was another.
If one day, when he found out they once had a lovely baby, but Ruby coldly and ruthlessly aborted it, what would he do?
She had no intention of driving a wedge between him and Ruby.
But some things are unforgettable; some hurdles are insurmountable.
"Quentin." Suddenly, Grace hugged his waist and softly called his name.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking down.
"I've always been curious, what kind of feelings do you have for your mother?"
Quentin thought for a moment and said, "Love and hate."
"What do you mean?"
"After my grandfather and father died, there were no men left in the family, only my mother. She took on the responsibility of the Taft family single-handedly and managed the group impeccably, not losing to any man."
"She resolved all the crises."
"In this society, especially in business and career, women are never truly treated fairly and equally. So her journey was really tough. She sacrificed a lot for the Taft family."
"That's why I am grateful to her and admire her. But as a mother, she undoubtedly failed. From childhood to adulthood, she rarely accompanied me and Helen. I hardly felt the warmth of motherly love."
"Especially many of her actions, I can't agree with."
"But..."
Quentin's voice choked up.
Grace continued his words, "But you still love her very much, don't you?"
"She gave birth to me and raised me. In that sense, I owe her forever and can never repay that debt."
"I understand. Yes, you're right. No matter what she did, she will always be your mother."
Grace nodded, her smile a bit forced.
Since they met, she had never asked him if he had to choose between her and Ruby, who he would choose.
First, many times, his choices had already said it all;
Second, she knew her place and didn't want to humiliate herself.
She didn't ask, so she could at least keep a glimmer of hope in her heart.
If she asked and got an answer, she wouldn't even have that last bit of hope.
But today, she suddenly wanted to ask.
"Quentin, can I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
So Grace asked that question.
"If your mother and I stood on opposite sides, and you could only choose one of us, who would you choose?"
Quentin reached out and affectionately ruffled her now dry hair.
"What are you thinking about all the time?"
"Why don't you answer me?" Grace tilted her head and asked.
Quentin put away the hairdryer and then carried her to the bed.
Grace lay down under the covers.
"It's late. Go to sleep."
His voice was extremely gentle.
"Okay."
She nodded and obediently closed her eyes.
Since he had avoided the question and didn't want to answer, she didn't push him.
At that moment, she heard the sound of the lights being turned off.
The only light left in the bedroom was the faint, warm glow from the wall lamp.
The room was barely visible, adding a touch of hazy beauty.
She heard a sound, and just as Grace thought he was about to leave.
Suddenly, he cupped her face in his hands.
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