Hearing Claire Grant’s voice, Natalie Morgan finally opened her weary eyes, struggling to sit up. "Claire."
"Don’t get up. Just lie down." Claire Grant helped her lie back down, pulled over a small chair, and sat by the hospital bed. "Theodore told to co and take care of you. He just admitted his mistake to , crying his eyes out, saying he was wrong."
Natalie Morgan didn’t believe a word of it.
Theodore Grant just wasn’t that kind of person.
In the two-plus years she’d been by his side, she had never once seen him admit he was wrong.
He never seed to yield, not even to his own mother.
’Admit his mistake? Fat chance.’
She shook her head with a scornful laugh. "Claire, even if he apologizes ten thousand tis, it won’t bring back my baby."
"Is that really what matters right now?" Claire Grant squeezed Natalie Morgan’s small, cold hand, her gaze full of heartache. "Why didn’t you tell Theodore? To be honest, he really did want you two to have a child."
’Theodore want her to have his child?’
’Never.’
’He didn’t want her to be pregnant.’
’Even if he did want children, he would only want them with Wanda Lynch.’
"Claire, he’s getting engaged to Wanda Lynch." Her lashes fluttered down, the light in her eyes dimming. "Even with that, he won’t let go. What am I supposed to do?"
Natalie Morgan had presented Claire Grant with an impossible question.
Theodore wasn’t the type to listen to reason.
And he never tolerated anyone interfering in his affairs.
’When Natalie first married into the Grant Family, she had been so cheerful and radiant, always wearing a brilliant smile. I don’t know when it started, but at so point, she beca this person before , her face a mask of sorrow. She’s so beautiful, with such a sweet smile, yet this marriage has brutally twisted her into a bitter, resentful woman. The Grant Family bears so responsibility, but Theodore is the most to bla.’
"I’ll try talking to him again. I’ll ask Mom to talk to him, too. If there’s no love between you, staying entangled like this will only bring more pain."
"Claire, I want to leave," Natalie said with a bitter smile, her expression a mixture of apology and sorrow.
Claire Grant’s heart lurched, and she gripped Natalie Morgan’s hand even tighter.
"Leave? Go where? Don’t you dare do anything foolish."
"Theodore will never let go. He loves Wanda Lynch that much, and he wants to see the Morgan Family destroyed. If I die, the only one left in my family will be a fool. He’ll get exactly what he wants."
’A living death or a real one—to her, who had now lost her baby, it was all the sa. Life held no hope. It was like an overcast day, forever waiting for a sun that would never rise.’
"How can you think that way? Theodore is just... he’s caught in an Enchantnt Formation. He probably doesn’t even know what he’s doing. Let talk to him for you. I’ll get him to agree to a divorce, okay?"
’A sharp pain lanced through Claire Grant’s heart. Why did marriage have to beco a cage for won, an inescapable calamity? Was it simply because there was no love?’
Natalie Morgan offered a smile more bitter than coffee.
Claire Grant stayed with Natalie for a little while longer until she fell asleep, then prepared to leave.
At the far end of the long hospital corridor, dim, yellow light washed over Claire Grant’s face, casting a lancholic shadow over her gentle features.
She quietly pulled out her phone and dialed Theodore Grant’s number.
"I’m getting ready to head back. Can you co to the hospital and be with Natalie for a while?" Her voice was laced with a hint of pleading and fatigue.
On the other end of the line, Theodore Grant’s voice was as cold as ever. "I still have things to handle here. I’ll send Weller Kendall over to look after her."
Hearing his indifferent tone, Claire Grant’s anger flared, and she couldn’t stop herself from shouting, "Is Weller Kendall her husband? Theodore Grant, if you keep treating Natalie this way, you will regret it one day!"
The man on the other end of the line was completely unmoved. "Is there anything else?"
"You... You’re becoming truly irredeemable."
Claire Grant felt a wave of helplessness.
Theodore’s indifference was bone-chilling.
She took a deep breath to compose herself, then turned and walked away.
...
「Three days later.」
Theodore Grant appeared at the hospital.
Weller Kendall was waiting by the door.
Seeing him approach, Weller stood. "Mr. Grant."
"How is she?" the man asked.
"She’s not talking much, and her appetite is poor. She just stares into space all the ti. Do you think her depression might have relapsed?"
Every day, Weller Kendall would peek into the room through the small window on the door.
Sotis, when he saw Natalie Morgan staring blankly for too long, he would go inside to interrupt her, trying to make a bit of small talk.
She rarely spoke.
She would only nod or shake her head.
Theodore Grant pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Natalie Morgan spared him an indifferent glance before turning her gaze back to the window, staring blankly.
"I’ve hired a nutritionist and a psychologist. You’re going ho to recuperate properly."
’He no longer planned on sending her to the asylum. Even if she refused to admit she was wrong, he wouldn’t send her.’
"Theodore Grant, the eighteenth is almost here, isn’t it?" She turned her haggard face toward him. "The day you and Wanda Lynch get engaged."
"What business is that of yours?" His eyes darkened, clearly unwilling to discuss it.
’She was his legal wife, yet she had no right to even ask about sothing as major as her own husband’s engagent to another woman. Her life was truly a pathetic failure.’
"Theodore Grant, you are the perfect embodint of a shaless, cheating husband," she said, her voice dripping with mockery and despair.
Theodore Grant’s expression flickered, and a harsh glint flashed in his eyes, but he held back his anger.
He took a deep breath and called out in a low voice, "Weller Kendall."
Weller Kendall quickly entered the room at the summons, lowering his head respectfully. "Mr. Grant, your orders?"
"Handle the discharge paperwork. Take Mrs. Grant ho to rest."
"Yes, sir."
And so, the woman returned to the Grant Residence.
Her three daily als were carefully prepared.
For a whole month, she remained in the Grant Residence under constant watch, never once stepping out the door.
Theodore Grant and Wanda Lynch’s engagent was postponed.
The reason was unknown.
Mr. Wallace brought the stewed bird’s nest soup to Natalie Morgan. "Madam, please have so while it’s hot."
Natalie Morgan didn’t seem to hear him. She didn’t even raise her eyes, continuing to draw on her tablet.
"Madam, you must eat sothing. You’ve lost so much weight this past month. Mr. Grant will be worried."
Of course, what Mr. Wallace feared more was Theodore Grant blaming the servants.
Natalie Morgan drew her final stroke and turned off the tablet.
She looked up at the housekeeper. "Mr. Wallace, you don’t need to watch constantly. I’ll eat when I’m hungry."
"Madam, that wasn’t my intention."
Mr. Wallace didn’t dare to raise his head.
He had once been forced to do certain things and had felt he’d wronged Natalie Morgan ever since.
Sotis, he didn’t even dare to et her gaze.
Natalie Morgan coolly looked away and prepared to head upstairs.
Just then, Theodore Grant’s car pulled into the Grant Residence.
"Mr. Wallace, why was the engagent between Theodore Grant and Wanda Lynch postponed?"
Mr. Wallace didn’t know much, but he reported what he’d heard. "They say Miss Lynch fell ill, so it was postponed."
"Sick?" ’What could possibly be wrong with Wanda Lynch?’ "Did you hear what it was?"
"I heard there was so kind of growth in her uterus, that she hemorrhaged... She had an operation, and they say... her uterus was removed."
Mr. Wallace had only heard this as a rumor and didn’t know if it was true. But the word ca from the servants attending to Wanda Lynch, so it was most likely true.
’A sharp, vindictive pleasure shot through Natalie’s heart. Her uterus was removed? It had to be true. Theodore hadn’t co ho in a long ti, so it couldn’t have been a minor illness. Wicked people truly get what they deserve. It seed Theodore hadn’t spared Wanda Lynch his usual savagery. Karma.’
"So, when is the new date?"
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