Chapter 7 Not Worth It

Raina was chilling in the main hall, sipping on her tea, her eyes all soft and slightly nostalgic as she looked at Elsie.

"Ronald." Her voice cut through the room like a knife. "Why are you talking to Elsie like that? Can you be a bit tender?"

Ronald stood there, looking all dark and broody, but he didn't say a word.

"Your grandmother is talking to you," Nash said, giving Ronald a stern look.

"I..." Ronald started, trying to keep it together, but Elsie jumped in.

"I'm fine," she signed coolly, brushing off Raina's concern.

Raina sighed, gripping Elsie's hand a bit tighter. "Elsie, don't be so stubborn. If something's wrong, speak up. Ronald is your husband; he's supposed to protect you."

Ronald's impatience was growing, his eyes downcast.

"I need to talk to Elsie," he said coldly, grabbing her wrist without waiting for a response.

Elsie didn't fight it, letting him lead her out.

Ronald was practically dragging her, and Elsie had to almost jog to keep up. Exhaustion overtook her, causing her steps to gradually slow, and the pain radiating from her wrist made her brow furrow slightly.

"Why are you so slow?" Ronald turned, noticing her trembling hand.

He frowned but didn't say anything, just slowed down and let go of her hand.

Elsie lowered her head, hiding the sarcasm in her eyes.

'So, he also cares about my feelings,' she thought with a cold smile, still following him.

Not far away, Raina and Nash watched them leave.

"Ronald finally knows how to care for Elsie," Raina said with a relieved smile.

"Let's hope so," Nash replied, though his eyes looked a bit complicated.

Ronald led Elsie to their bedroom in the old house. The room was simple but felt suffocating.

He closed the door and turned to face her, his gaze icy. "What have you been doing these past few days? Why haven't you come home?"

Elsie looked at him calmly. "Ronald, let me remind you, we're about to get divorced. Your house is not my home."

Ronald's face darkened instantly.

"Elsie, don't push it," he said, his voice low and angry. "Don't think I'll keep giving you chances. Fulfill your role as Mrs. York and refrain from causing any further trouble."

Elsie laughed lightly, her eyes mocking. "Sorry, I don't care for that title."

Ronald's anger flared, and he sneered. "If you don't care, why did you go to such lengths to marry me?"

Elsie raised her head slightly, looking at him calmly. "So, you think I married you for the York family's wealth?"

Ronald didn't respond, but his silence said it all.

She laughed softly, slowly signing with her hands. "Ronald, when you were at your lowest, I gave you my parents' inheritance to support you. What do you think I wanted?"

Ronald's expression grew complicated, like he wanted to say something, but she cut him off coldly.

"But now I'm sick of it," she said, like she was just stating a random fact.

Ronald said, his voice dripping with danger. "Elsie, you certainly don't seem tired of this."

He suddenly stepped forward, pinning her against the wall. "You clung to me passionately in this room night after night, and now you say you're sick of it? Isn't that ridiculous?"

He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear, his voice low and menacing.

Ronald's hand gently traced her cheek. "Elsie, stop playing hard to get."

His tone was mocking as he whispered in her ear, "You should think about how to make me happy."

Elsie didn't flinch, her calm eyes meeting his.

Her indifferent gaze made Ronald pause.It appeared as though she had distanced herself from him, constructing a metaphorical barrier to keep him at bay.

A wave of irritation surged in him. "Stop pretending to be so high and mighty," he said hoarsely, his fingers sliding to her neck.

But before he could go further, she signed again. "Ronald, don't touch me."

Her calmness made him hesitate.

"I'm not interested in you," she said, her eyes steady and unflinching.

Ronald's breath caught, his gaze growing colder.

He abruptly let go, stepping back with a mocking smile. "Elsie, don't overestimate yourself."

He turned and walked to the door, his steps quicker than usual.

With his hand on the doorknob, he paused, looking back coldly. "You're here to please the York family. Don't be ungrateful, or you'll get nothing."

With that, he left without looking back.

Elsie stood still, watching him leave.

Her hand slowly clenched, the coldness on her face giving way to exhaustion.

Elsie sat on the edge of the bed, her head bowed as she tidied her clothes.

Her fingers glided over the fabric of the dress, its delicate texture causing a subtle ache in her fingertips.She stopped, staring at her hands, covered in tiny scars from a car accident two years ago.

A tear slipped from her eye.

She was stunned and touched her cheek, finding the tear had fallen onto her dress.

Elsie closed her eyes, a dull pain rising in her chest.

"It must be the pain in my fingers," she reassured herself, but she couldn't ignore the heavy emotion inside.

She reached for the necklace around her neck. It was a simple silver chain with a small pendant, which she clutched tightly, as if to seek comfort.

Opening the pendant, she revealed a photo.

In the photo, Cedric smiled gently, his eyes warm, as if looking at her through time.

Elsie's tears flowed freely.

She bit her lip, unable to stop the sobs.

'Cedric, I'm sorry.' She repeated it in her mind, but couldn't say it out loud.

Her vision blurred with tears, her fingers aching from the pressure.

Elsie cast her gaze downward at her fingers, which she couldn't straighten no matter how hard she tried. The pain seemed to emanate from the very marrow of her bones.

Her eyes filled with regret and self-mockery. 'Ronald wasn't worth it.'

In that moment, she felt the full weight of how foolish her sacrifices had been.