Chapter532 A Fresh Start
Just like that, they were leaving?
Marjorie couldn't believe it.
She had assumed Oliver would simply call Mr. Liam to escort her, so his personal appearance was an unexpected delight.
Now that he was here, couldn't they stay for something meaningful?
"Oliver, Natalie is a brilliant cook. Why don't you stay for a bite?" Marjorie hinted furiously to her grandson.
Oliver eyed Marjorie impassively, questioning, "Are you sure, Grandma?"
In a flash, Marjorie got the message: if she didn't go back, Oliver could expose the farce right here, right now. It was a clear threat!
"Alright then, let's head back," Marjorie pouted, slowly rising with an elegance that spoke of her years.
Unsure how to interact with Oliver when he acted like a stranger, Natalie decided to play along.
She fetched a food container from the kitchen to pack up some muffins for Madam Windsor.
Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, Oliver watched, unabashedly, as Natalie leaned over to wrap the muffins, his gaze set upon her slender back.
His gaze was deep, intense.
"Natalie, come, let's add each other on Instagram!" Marjorie adeptly whipped out her phone, launching the app with the ease that belied her octogenarian status.
"Sure," replied Natalie.
Marjorie nodded contentedly and glanced at her grandson, who still stood stoically by the door.
As Natalie escorted Marjorie to the door, she finally felt the weight of Oliver's penetrating gaze resting blatantly on her, as they stood just a foot apart.
Was it curiosity or something else in his stare? Whatever it was, it made her want to flee.
Mr. Liam and his group had been waiting in the lobby all afternoon, and when Madam Windsor finally descended the stairs, a collective sigh of relief washed over them.
Glancing back, Mr. Liam couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he noticed his wife wasn't with him.
On the ride back, Marjorie climbed into Oliver's car.
No sooner had the old lady settled in than she let out a couple of heavy sighs.
"What's the matter?" Oliver asked, patience thinning.
Marjorie looked at Oliver, her gaze lingering for a few silent seconds before she shook her head lamentingly.
Oliver responded with a speechless silence.
Marjorie turned to him. "Couldn't you have chatted up the young lady a bit more?"
"I came to pick you up."
"Do I look like I need a ride?" Marjorie eyed Oliver with a mix of frustration and disbelief. She was at a loss for her grandson.
After a while, she couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you even going to inquire about the purpose of my visit today?"
"Just killing time," Oliver answered.
"You...you brat! Can't you speak properly?!" Marjorie couldn't resist playfully slapping Oliver's arm.
Of course, Oliver was well aware of Marjorie's intentions. She was simply trying to set the stage for him, hoping he would take initiative to keep Natalie. Why else would she coincidentally show up at Natalie's Maple Villa?
"Grandma, please don't make a scene," Oliver said. If reconciliation were possible, he had already tried.
"Me, making a scene?" Marjorie scoffed. "It seems to me you're the one causing a fuss—your wife is departing!"
" We were wrong from the very start."
"Oliver," Marjorie asserted, "I knew when the Watson family quietly replaced their eldest daughter with Natalie. The original Miss Watson was not an option; I agreed to uphold our engagement only because I favored Natalie. What do you think, that we couldn't have called off the wedding? Wrong from the start? If anything has gone wrong, it's due to a lack of action!"
Marjorie gazed at Oliver and said: Yes, it's your inaction!
The question began gnawing at Oliver.
"Grandma, if what happens is meant to be, then what about the path Natalie and I have taken up to now?" Oliver pondered.
"You and Natalie have come a long way, Oliver, and I have to ask," Marjorie said, toying with her watch. "The only thing that can change is what we do now. The past is set in stone."
Emily Reed wrapped up her business and headed to Maple Villa to check in on Natalie.
"The outlook isn't great—all the deals we were negotiating fell through. Your only endorsement, the jewelry one, is about to expire, and the client isn't keen on renewing," Emily conveyed straight to the point.
After a year of collaboration, Emily knew all too well that resilient was the word embodied by Natalie.
Natalie nodded calmly, "I had a hunch. Have you scouted any promising new talent, Emily?"
"I don't rely on this for my bread," Emily said nonchalantly, "Why would I bother with a new model who doesn't see eye to eye with me and needs a lot of hand-holding? No thanks, I'd rather play the socialite game back at home."
In their circles, plenty of young women lived like socialites, enjoying the high life and waiting to marry into wealth, only to then indulge in endless shopping sprees and social events.
Surprised, Natalie asked, "I thought you despised that kind of life."
"Hating it and living it are two different things," Emily remarked.
As the sole daughter among her peers, Emily had always received more affection and pampering than most heiresses, armed with the best resources and support from her family. But this came with the expectation that she would contribute significantly to the family's legacy—a reality she had come to terms with.
"Have you... already decided on an arranged marriage partner?" Natalie intuited something was up recently.
"It's been settled for a while."
Settled for a while...
Natalie was caught off guard, "Samuel?"
Emily rolled her eyes.
"Why so sudden?" Natalie had never seen Emily so irritated before.
"Susan's getting engaged. How's it look if my little sister is engaged and I'm still single?"
"Susan's engaged?" Natalie was shocked, a dreadful thought crossing her mind, "To... whom?"
Not Oliver?
"Don't worry," Emily reassured her with a pat on the shoulder, "not your ex. But the guy has a significant background. Marrying him is pretty much like selling herself."
"I can't believe there wasn't even a whisper of this coming. Why the rush?" Natalie recalled how Susan had been hopelessly hung up on Oliver when she was recovering from her injury at the Rosewood Estate.
"Who knows?" Emily Reed retorted with a hint of sarcasm, "Could be backed into a corner, or maybe someone's been making threats."
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