Chapter 702 Comfort
Natalie glanced at the inheritance transfer document and spotted a few figures. To an average family, the legacy would seem astronomical; however, for Arthur, now at the helm of the Windsor Group, the sum was mere chump change.
She couldn't fathom what Henry had been thinking, trying to pit two brothers against each other over such an amount. They were brothers who had relied on each other since childhood.
Natalie figured that the only reason Henry had sons as clever as Oliver and Arthur was thanks to their late grandmother, Emerson Norton's genes.
“The charitable donation will Arthur be giving to a charity directly or is it a designated contribution?” the lawyer asked.
“Donate it to the Children’s Foundation. You can handle the rest,” Arthur replied nonchalantly. “My father never cared much about me, his son. The money he left behind can help someone else's children. Consider it a way to accumulate good karma.”
It was just like the brothers to still crack a joke at Henry’s expense even at a time like this.
This much was clear that Henry’s image in the minds of his sons were tarnished. Henry's dire end was simply reaping what he had sowed.
At eleven that night, Oliver and Arthur, along with the lawyer and the longtime butler, finalized all the matters concerning Henry's estate and his posthumous affairs. They seamlessly retreated to their separate rooms.
“You’e not even going to light a candle for him?” Natalie was somewhat surprised by Arthur’s indifference, or rather his aloofness.
Arthur chuckled and questioned, “What gave you the impression that I am a good son?”
After a moment’s thought, Natalie said, “Perhaps it’s because you rushed back.”
“I didn’t rush back for him. I came back in a hurry so that no one would tell Tina that her daddy was a heartless man. Besides, there are some things that only I can sign off on. The sooner it’s dealt with, the better.”
Arthur’s smile remained unchanged, but since Flora Lee’s return, Natalie noticed that her brother-in-law had become even more approachable and amiable, but with a sly undercurrent.
Years had passed since Arthur last stayed at the Windsor family home, but his old room, right next to Oliver's, had been maintained.
Once they both retired to their rooms, Natalie admitted, “I’ve always had this subconscious feeling that Arthur and your father had a decent relationship.”
“Oh?” Oliver paused while unbuttoning his shirt, inquiring with a hint of amusement, “What makes you think that?”
Natalie hesitated before telling the truth, concerned that mentioning the Windsor family rumor might dredge up painful childhood memories for Oliver. "I... I once heard about how within the Windsor family, Arthur, being the younger son, was much more favored by Henry than you."
Unexpectedly, Oliver's lips curled into a wry smile. "That's not entirely wrong. But it doesn't change the fact that he wasn't good to Arthur either... Why are you looking at me like that?"
Natalie looked up at Oliver, her gaze intense and probing. After a moment, she asked, "What about you?"
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
Natalie pressed on, "If he was unkind to Arthur, what was it like for you?"
"Do you feel sorry for me?" Oliver, caught off-guard, let out a soft chuckle and moved toward Natalie.
His shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing a pale and muscled chest that was both sexy and powerful.
"Oliver, your childhood was tough, wasn't it?" Natalie looked up at him, not moving, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
It had been a long time since Oliver reflected on his childhood, especially since meeting Natalie. As a child, times were quite good while his mother was alive. They had everything they needed, and after she passed, Marjorie did her best to protect both him and Arthur.
Despite his numerous attempts to earn Henry's approval through achievements and calling out to him without acknowledgment, Emerson Norton found himself overlooked. He witnessed Henry showing affection to Victoria and Edwin while treating him with disdain. This led to ongoing conflicts between Emerson Norton and Henry.
For Henry, Oliver's exceptional intelligence was a point of pride he could boast about in public, but it was also a threat to him. Fearing that Oliver would grow up to challenge his status or seize what "belonged" to Victoria.
This fear became reality when Victoria's mother orchestrated a car accident involving Oliver, and instead of investigating, Henry spoiled Victoria and her mother even more.
Remembering all this, Oliver could only offer a dismissive smile.
"I suffer?" Oliver arrogantly countered Natalie's concern.
Everyone knew of Mr. Windsor's noble birth, his extraordinary intellect, and his ruthless, decisive ways. He didn't look like someone who would ever be at a disadvantage.
Yet Natalie didn't believe it. How cruel could Oliver have been when he was just a kid? How could a truly malicious person raise a brother like Arthur, who turned out to be such a fine-looking gentleman?
"All right," Oliver sighed in feigned resignation upon seeing Natalie's skepticism. "It wasn't all bad, but there were unhappy times."
Natalie gently embraced him, comforting him with, "It's okay, it's all in the past now."
As she spoke, she soothingly patted his back.
"Are you treating me like Tina, trying to comfort me?" Oliver said with a downward glance at the woman in his arms. "I'm still sad. Maybe Mrs. Windsor could find some other way to cheer me up?"
Natalie looked up to meet his teasing, playful gaze, the suggestion in his eyes crystal clear.
If Henry hadn't passed away so unexpectedly, he'd probably be actively rehearsing for that bondage story he saw trending online somewhere.
Natalie snorted, "You might as well keep dreaming."
Oliver laughed, not really upset.
They both understood that Oliver was just making conversation. With Henry’s body still lying in a coffin in the nearby hall, it was hardly the time or place for such antics.
Even if they weren’t concerned about what was appropriate, they weren’t in the mood.
Oliver picked up his pajamas and planned to take a shower in the bathroom of the guest bedroom when suddenly he asked Natalie, "Aren't you scared to shower alone?"
It took a moment for Natalie to grasp he was referring to the proximity of Henry's casket in the hall.
"I'm not scared," said Natalie. "His death doesn't involve me. Why should I be scared? Plus, I'm a staunch materialist."
Oliver watched her for a few seconds to make sure she wasn't just putting on a brave face before leaving the bedroom.
After Natalie finished showering and came out, she found that Oliver hadn't returned. She thought he might have been delayed by something and decided to lie on the bed and wait for him.
Eventually, the door opened, and there was Oliver, with the dampness of his shower still lingering on him.
Natalie turned and nestled into his embrace with a puzzled question, "You just finished showering?"
Oliver hummed a confirmation.
The lights were off in the bedroom because the old butler, Noah, was honoring Henry's memory by lighting the path for his spirit tonight, following tradition. So, Oliver closed the windows and drew the curtains to avoid any harsh light, leaving the bedroom shrouded in darkness, without even a faint outline of Oliver visible, much less his features.
"Why are you taking so long to shower?" He was still damp with moisture, having clearly just stepped out of the bathroom.
Natalie tilted her head, trying to make out his eyes, but she couldn't see them clearly. "Oliver, did you secretly cry in the shower?"
Oliver couldn't help but chuckle at the accusation. Even though he couldn't see clearly, he accurately pinched Natalie's cheek and scoffed with disdain, "Me, cry?"
An image flashed through Natalie's mind, Oliver on one knee, his forehead resting against her leg. His voice at that time was unusual, hoarse with a hint of restraint. She felt something moist seeping through her pants onto her skin.
She also saw a faint glimmer of tears at the corners of the man's eyes. Oliver was asking her if he could stay.
He had apparently forgotten, or rather chosen to forget that embarrassing moment. If that was the case, then she would quietly cherish this precious moment in her heart.
"No," Natalie answered.
"That settles it," Oliver said as he pulled Natalie into his arms and hugged her tightly.
Natalie's hand found its way to his waist. After a half-second pause, she propped herself up and leaned in towards where she felt his face was.
"Natalie..." Oliver felt her breath drawing closer.
Finally, her warm and tender lips pressed gently against his. It was all gentle and soothing.
Natalie snuggled back into his embrace, saying to herself, "Even if you're emotionally strong, I still want to offer some comfort."
Oliver's heartbeat skipped for a moment, his fingers curling slightly before he silently chuckled in self-mockery.
He had thought he didn't care, having been thoroughly disillusioned with Henry. He had seen Henry to prison with his own hands, destroyed everything that was precious to him, ensuring that even after Henry's demise, he remained isolated, with none of the Windsor family to mourn him.
But now, when Natalie spoke the word "comfort," he realized he wasn't entirely indifferent.
"I don't need comforting," Oliver's voice was soft, breaking the silence of the room.
"I know you don't," Natalie said, "but I just want to offer it anyway, to go through the motions. Won't you give me that chance, Mr. Windsor?"
"Of course," he replied, his voice a mix of resignation and indulgence.
Mrs. Windsor can have whatever she wants, even my life.
"Mm..." Natalie pretended to consider, as if weighing the words of comfort to offer.
He finally spoke up, "You still have your grandmother who loves you, friends, and me, so don't be too sad. Some people are gone, and with them, they take away the bad memories of your youth, eventually disappearing like smoke."
Natalie suddenly understood Mrs. Windsor's actions; in their eyes, Henry might have been someone who should have died long ago. His death alleviated part of Mrs. Windsor's guilt and released the Oliver and his brother from a burden.
What was more fortunate was that Oliver and Arthur didn't know that Henry's death was intentionally caused by Mrs. Windsor.
"Natalie, your attempt at comforting lacks any real sincerity," Oliver said.
Feeling somewhat guilty, Natalie responded, "How can you say it lacks sincerity?"
Truth be told, she was never good at comforting people. She could manage to cajole kids like Tina or Misi, but that was about it.
"Who tries to seriously comfort someone without using a proper address? Just starting with 'you'?" Oliver made a big deal about it.
Natalie was speechless. Great, he was caught up on formalities.
"Oliver, there, I added it. Happy now?"
"Shouldn't it be 'husband'?"
Natalie realized that trying to sincerely comfort Oliver was a misguided thought and decision! Huffing, Natalie buried her head in his chest.
Time to sleep!
She closed her eyes, yet she could still hear the man's deep laughter, his chest vibrating with each chuckle.
The formidable Mr. Windsor needed no comfort!
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