Chapter 75 The Truth! Grace Was Set Up That Night [2]
The hospital room door opened after a couple of knocks. It was Henry's mom, Aurora.
Even though it was late, Aurora looked flawless, dressed in expensive clothes and jewelry, radiating elegance.
Henry watched her quietly, still holding a photo in his slender fingers.
Aurora's eyes also landed on the photo. She knew exactly what Henry was thinking.
She turned to her servant, Daphne Dixon, and said, "Daphne, wait outside."
Sensing the tension, Daphne quickly left and closed the door.
Aurora looked at the closed door, then gracefully walked over to the sofa and sat down. She had faced her husband's betrayal and infidelity at a young age, leaving her heart cold.
Under the light, Aurora's face looked harsh. She said, "I heard Grace went to a bar, fought with you, and ended up in the hospital! Henry, she is Mrs. Montague of the Montague Group. This behavior is unacceptable. I can't bear with it!"
Henry's gaze bore into Aurora. He waited for her to finish, then calmly asked, "Why not talk to her directly? Is it guilt or fear? Do you know she never wanted to be Mrs. Montague?"
He flipped a photo in front of Aurora, watching her reaction. With a cold laugh, Aurora said, "So, you've found out. Sympathy now? But remember, she is Mrs. Montague. Her behavior must reflect that, not tarnish our family's reputation."
Henry's lips tightened as he stared at Aurora. His voice was cold, "Regardless of her faults, wasn't it you who pushed her to me? When I wanted to marry Elodie, you brought Grace into my life. What did she do wrong? Love me?"
His voice trembled slightly.
Aurora's sneer turned into a smirk. She felt liberated by Henry's honesty. Why not lay everything bare?
Her smile twisted. "Yes! But I chose her not just because she loved you. She has a good family, an artist mother, an upright father, and a diligent brother. Only someone like her is worthy of the Montague family!"
Henry's face tightened. His voice quivered, "She was only 20 back then."
Aurora's demeanor softened. She smiled tenderly at Henry, her gaze a mix of warmth and accusation.
"Henry, you knew she was just 20! Why didn't you let her go? Why did you sleep with her for years? Was it her beauty or your own desires?"
"I did scheme against Grace! But Henry, think carefully, didn't you come home every night that first month of marriage? Can you honestly say you weren't addicted?" Aurora added.
Henry stared at Aurora, his chest heaving. He spat out, "You're sick! Aren't you afraid of retribution?"
Aurora lowered her eyes and smiled faintly. After a while, she softly said, "Marrying Neil Montague was my greatest retribution."
Aurora left, and the room fell silent. The rain outside grew heavier, its sound echoing in Henry's heart even in the luxurious VIP room.
He opened his phone and looked at a picture of Grace lying on a pillow.
Aurora's words echoed in his mind: "Henry, think carefully, didn't you come home every night that first month of marriage? Can you honestly say you weren't addicted?"
He couldn't deny it. This photo was proof. In three years of marriage, he hated Grace but was addicted to her body. He had tormented her for three years.
Outside, the rain kept falling as Henry began to dress. On that rainy night, a black Rolls-Royce drove into the villa.
After the car stopped, the wipers kept moving, and the golden goddess emblem on the front of the car stood proudly in the rain, yet it seemed to be crying.
Henry sat behind the wheel in his crisp white shirt, a striking figure in the darkness. The mansion was quiet, with all the staff asleep, and no one to welcome him. His gaze shifted to the second floor, where the lights were dim.
In the stillness, Henry reflected on his impulsive decision to return to the villa. Acting on instinct, he hadn't considered why he came back; he just found himself there. Now, his heart yearned to see Grace.
He wished the past three years were just a bad dream. He wanted to go upstairs, hold Grace tightly, whisper an apology, and wake up to restore her life to its rightful place.
Henry leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes tightly. He now felt that touching Grace was a sin.
At four in the morning, Henry got out of the car and walked into the villa. The house was silent, and the rain had brought the temperature down. Wearing just a shirt, he felt a chill all over.
The master bedroom on the second floor was warm. Grace lay in bed, seemingly asleep, her breathing light. She had always been a calm sleeper.
Henry walked over, took off his shoes and socks, and lay down behind her. He whispered an apology in her ear, but time couldn't be turned back, and they couldn't go back to the past. Grace was still Mrs. Montague.
At that moment, Henry's heart ached deeply. His face pressed against Grace's thin shoulder, trembling slightly.
As Grace stirred awake, she felt Henry's presence behind her, enveloping her in a quiet embrace. His whispered apology reached her ears, a rare moment of vulnerability from her usually steadfast husband.
Grace wasn't a fool. She pieced together the reasons behind his apology. After three years, Henry finally believed her and investigated the truth of that night. He understood that she, like him, had been set up. Was his apology now a confession?
Sensing that Grace was awake, Henry instinctively drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her slender waist. With a gentle squeeze, he whispered, "Grace, let's start over. Let me make it up to you."
With Grace nestled in his embrace, she closed her eyes in quiet reflection. She realized she should be grateful for Henry's honesty.
Unlike many others, he hadn't shied away from the truth or added to her burdens. Instead, he had taken a humble step forward, expressing his desire to mend their relationship and make amends.
"Henry, I don't want any compensation. There's no starting over between us. I don't know how many more times I can endure 'not having enough.' I'll wonder if this is your new trick, if my sincere feelings will be crushed again. Henry, it's too late. I don't love you anymore," Grace said firmly.
Henry held Grace tightly, his whole body trembling.