Chapter 3 Henry will never like me
In the evening, Grace sat alone at her vanity in her bedroom. The dim yellow light stretched her shadow as she stared at the skincare products scattered on the table.
She knew these weren't hers—they belonged to Mrs. Montague. But she didn't want to be Mrs. Montague anymore.
Tonight, Henry was probably with Elodie again, right?
Holding back her tears, she pulled out a pale pink diary from the drawer, thick and a bit worn. These were all the memories of her past love for Henry, written by her to Henry when she was eighteen. Childish, but it showed her naive love.
[Henry hasn't talked to me all day!]
[Does Henry not like me? I gave him his favorite snack, and he didn't even look at it.]
[Henry, he definitely doesn't like me, but why did he lend me his jacket when I got my period? Is he secretly liking me too?]
[Grace, you have to keep going! One day, Henry will be moved by your sincerity and fall in love with you!]
Grace looked at these silly words, as if seeing herself back then, writing eagerly, full of hope. She smiled bitterly as tears wet her face.
She turned to the latest page of the diary, picked up a pen, but in her sorrow, she couldn't write any more love notes about Henry.
She knew she didn't love him anymore. The Grace who deeply loved Henry was already gone.
Tears dripped down the pen onto the white paper, soaking it. The ink smeared across the tears, leaving only one sentence on the crumpled paper: [Henry will never like me!]
The elegant handwriting, like her heart, was smudged, twisted, and crooked by the tears.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door. "Mrs. Montague, someone sent something for you."
Grace wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, blinked, and tried not to let the servant see she had been crying. "Come in."
The servant entered, carrying a square box, then looked at Grace with a strange expression. She knew today was their wedding anniversary, and also Grace's birthday, but Henry was in Harmony City with Elodie.
But she didn't dare to say it out loud, it was taboo!
Grace looked at the large box, momentarily lost in thought.
It was a pink box, clearly a cake box, beautifully decorated, obviously carefully chosen.
She still held a glimmer of hope in her heart, could it be from Henry?
Upon opening it, she found a small eight-inch cake. It was adorned with yellow stars, a tiny tent, and a figurine of a little girl with pigtails, sitting inside with her hands clasped, making a wish.
Next to the cake box, there was a greeting card.
With trembling hands, holding onto the last bit of hope, she opened the card.
[Grace, long time no see, you used to chase after me when we were kids. Lucas.]
Lucas? Memories flooded her mind, and she pictured herself chasing a young boy.
Her lips curved slightly, so it was him.
Of course, Henry was busy, how could he order her a cake? But how did Lucas remember her birthday? She should have asked him at the hospital when he mentioned the password was her birthday.
Just then, her phone rang. It was the number he had given her earlier that day. She answered, and a deep, familiar voice came through. "Grace, happy birthday."
"Thank you," Grace replied with a smile, her voice barely hiding a hint of emotion.
"You..." Lucas on the other end of the line clearly noticed her slight choke.
Grace sniffed, her eyes softening. "Thank you for the cake, Lucas. It really made my day."
After chatting for a bit, she hung up the phone, staring at the cake, lost in thought.
It was almost funny—on her birthday, her wedding anniversary, the day her father was saved—the one who remembered and bought her a cake wasn't Henry, but a childhood friend she barely knew.
The next day, Grace brought soup to the hospital. Before she could enter the room, Clara stopped her at the door.
Clara stared at her intently. "Are you really going to divorce Henry?"
Grace nodded, feeling numb.
Clara panicked, her tone becoming harsh. "Grace, you have to think about the bigger picture. Your father will need a lot of money. Do you think you can handle it?"
She sighed. "I know Henry didn't come back to celebrate your birthday yesterday, but he's in a high position. Having a mistress is normal. Besides, Elodie is just a cripple, and she looks so shabby. I'm telling you, she's divorced, and her leg was broken by her ex-husband. Such a person can't possibly threaten your position as Mrs. Montague."
"What status do I have with Henry anymore?" Grace laughed bitterly.
"But you can't get a divorce. The hospital expenses are too high. You've been pampered and cherished since childhood. How could you possibly support our family? Besides, if your father finds out you want a divorce, his condition might worsen."
She softened her tone. "Grace, I know you're suffering, but Oliver is about to be sentenced, and your father is in critical condition. Everything depends on the Montague family."
Grace suddenly sneered. "Did Henry show up when my father needed money for surgery? Did he show up when Oliver was arrested?"
She sighed, not wanting to argue. "Clara, I know you're suffering. You even betrayed your family to marry my father back then. Now, after selling the wedding ring and paying off the debt, there's still some left, enough to last a while. For Oliver's lawyer fees, I plan to sell the house. Besides, I can play the violin. I'll work to support this family."
Her house was the only thing her mother left her. It was her last resort. But now, she had no choice but to sell it. She had no other way.
Clara looked at the strong front Grace was putting up and, in the end, said nothing more.
Grace entered the hospital room, and when she saw the haggard Nathan, she didn't say much. Perhaps in his heart, he was also thinking about how to maintain this family, thinking about Oliver's future.