Chapter531 The Call
Finally conceding defeat, Natalie retreated to her room and keyed in a number she knew by heart. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and pressed the green call button.
After a long wait, all she got was a busy signal. No answer.
She dialed again, but still no response. Did he not want to take her call?
Clutching her phone, Natalie stood by the bed, looking out at the spot where she last saw Oliver's sports car. The words she had spoken that night must have been a blow to Oliver's pride. He was probably too proud to want to see her again.
Natalie struggled with what to do for over ten minutes and decided to personally take Madam Windsor back to the Rosewood Estate. The Windsor family staff would surely ensure the elder's safe return to the main house.
Just as she resolved to leave her bedroom and inform the elderly woman, the phone call she'd missed rang back.
The phone vibrated wildly.
"Clatter—"
Startled, Natalie dropped the phone, scrambling to pick it up. To her relief, the call was still coming through.
Without realizing it, she had answered.
Natalie had a gut feeling that if she had taken even a second longer, Oliver would have hung up.
"Hello?" There was silence on the other end, prompting Natalie to speak up.
"Hello? Can you hear me?"
After a pause that made Natalie question if the call had dropped, a deep, rich male voice finally came through, grunting an acknowledgment.
Oliver was back, as cold and detached as ever.
"Mr. Windsor, I know you aren't keen on taking my calls, and I don't mean to bother you," Natalie started, her voice laced with a mix of hesitation and urgency. "but your grandmother ended up with me."
"Why would she be with you?" he asked, his voice taut with a blend of confusion and impatience.
Natalie almost pictured Oliver knitting his brows in that characteristic manner of his, mirroring his short fuse.
"Ran into her on the street," Natalie replied, opting to be vague rather than reveal the truth about Madam Windsor turning up at her door, seeking her grandson's wife. "Could you organize someone to pick her up?"
"Fine," he responed. The word was barely out before the line went dead.
"Natalie chuckled dryly to herself, a twinge of rueful sentiment creeping in.
But what right did she have to feel regret? She was the one who'd initiated the divorce, and she had to live with all consequences of her decision.
After hanging up, Oliver stared at his phone as the bright screen quietly faded to black. He recalled how, just ten minutes earlier, when Natalie's first call came through, he was in a meeting. The sight of her name flashing on the display had cut the session short, compelling him to stride back to his office with phone in hand.
To avoid revealing the excitement that simmered within him.
To avoid letting anyone detect that a single call from Natalie could set his heart racing.
He had stared at the incoming call, unblinking, until it dropped. When it did, his heartbeat seemed to falter, regret tingling at the edges of his consciousness for not answering.
Still, given another chance, he knew he wouldn't have picked up.
When Natalie's second call buzzed through, he felt a mixture of relief and anticipation. Could it be that she had regrets? That she wanted to come back? If she did, he didn't need grand gestures from her.
Just a soft, longing whisper of "Oliver" would be enough to make him relent.
Oliver figured if there was a third call, he would definitely answer.
He could ignore the second—it was only fair for him to show he had some pride.
But when the third call never came, after ten minutes of waiting, he couldn't stand it any longer and dialed her back himself.
And to his annoyance, her approach was anything but softening, starting the conversation with a Mr. Windsor，so stiff it seemed every word was calculated to keep him at arm's length!
"Madam Windsor, I've been in touch with Mr. Windsor. Someone will be here shortly to pick you up," Natalie announced as she reappeared from the room.
She checked the time. Dinner was still a while away. "It might be a bit before they get here. Would you like something to eat?" Natalie inquired with tentative kindness.
"Eat?" scoffed Majorie, her voice devoid of any real interest.
She lay there, listlessly pondering why they had sent someone for her. Why hadn't Oliver come himself?
Natalie glanced over the ingredients at hand. Given Madam Windsor's long stays abroad, she was likely fond of sweets. But Natalie's kitchen was scantily stocked and lacked an oven.
"How about pancakes?"
"Fine."
Pancakes were a simple affair, and Natalie worked swiftly. In less than half an hour, she served a plate of fluffy pancakes with jam, and at last, a hint of pleasure graced Majorie's lips.
"These are more delicious than any I've had abroad," Marjorie praised, then with a piercing glance at Natalie, her tone shifted bitterly. "I hear my grandson's wife is a great cook, too. Such a shame, I never got a taste before she ran off. Once you're old, nobody cares to stick around!"
Today, Natalie has been repeatedly criticized in a subtle way, which has only increased my feelings of guilt.
"Madam Windsor, if you enjoyed them, I can pack up the leftovers for you to take home."
"Thank you, dear Natalie."
Swamped by guilt, Natalie could only hope that someone from the Rosewood Estate would promptly pick her up.
Her plan was to wait for a call from the Rosewood Estate. She would ask the estate staff to escort Madam Windsor out. Having lived at the Rosewood Estate for a year, everyone knew her, and it would spare both parties the awkwardness of a personal send-off.
But fate spared her that awkward moment.
The doorbell rang, and Natalie's gaze fixed on the tall man who had unexpectedly appeared at her doorstep.
He had striking features that were accented by deep, penetrating eyes, and his presence was both aloof and formidable. Dressed in a tailored suit and shirt, his jacket casually draped over one arm, he stood silently, scrutinizing her.
For a fleeting second, Natalie was caught in a daze, losing track of time and place.
Oliver had often appeared before her just this way.
"...Why is it you?" Natalie snapped back to reality, suddenly feeling that inexplicable nervousness one gets when close to home, and subconsciously, she took a half-step back.
Oliver caught her involuntary retreat and a hint of sadness flickered in his eyes.
She didn't even want to be near him.
"I'm here to pick someone up," Oliver stated expressionlessly, his gaze drifting past Natalie to settle on the elderly lady seated on the sofa, her eyes lit up with pleasant surprise at the sight of him.
He nodded slightly towards Marjorie, "Grandma, let's get going."
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