Chapter 104
"Emily," I started softly, my voice drifting a bit in the night breeze, "it's been a long time since my mom had such a lively birthday. Tonight, I don't want to upset her."
I paused, my gaze sweeping over the guests who hadn't completely dispersed from the hotel entrance yet. Most of them were old friends or business partners Violet had invited. "Besides, look at these people—they're all Violet's guests. Who knows, some of them might become potential clients or partners for my mom's company in the future."
"Why make a scene over George on an occasion like this and burn all possible bridges?"
"Once the divorce papers are actually in hand and everything's settled, I'll explain everything properly to Grandma. Making a fuss now would just embarrass everyone and hurt my mom, with no benefit whatsoever."
Emily looked at me, the anger in her eyes gradually replaced by something deeper—heartache and helplessness.
She knew I had a point, but she just couldn't swallow her anger.
She glared viciously at George's back, her eyes practically burning two holes into it.
George's phone call went on for a long time.
From a few steps away, we couldn't make out the specific content, but we could see the indulgent smile on his profile.
That smile—a luxury I'd never received in our marriage—belonged exclusively to the woman on the other end of that call.
Finally, he ended the call, resumed his usual indifference, and walked toward us, announcing flatly: "Something urgent came up at the company. I need to go handle it right away. Explain to your mother for me."
Something urgent?
I laughed coldly to myself.
Sarah's urgent matter, more likely.
Was she getting impatient, throwing a tantrum, or did she have some new demand?
Sarah's summons always took top priority for George.
I couldn't keep him, nor had I ever wanted to.
I showed no dissatisfaction or attempt to make him stay, just nodded and took out my phone: "Okay, I'll call my mom and let her know."
When the call connected, I briefly explained the situation to Luna: "Mom, George has an emergency at the company. He has to go right away. He asked me to let you know he's leaving."
On the other end, Luna fell silent for a moment, then let out a suppressed sigh: "I see. Let him go handle his business. You and Milly should come home early, too."
"Okay, Mom. We'll be back soon." I hung up, my heart heavy.
Seeing I'd finished communicating, George didn't linger. He turned to leave.
He'd only taken a few steps when several guests who hadn't left yet and were chatting by the entrance called out to him. They were a few old family friends Violet had invited.
"George, leaving already? Not staying to keep your mother-in-law and wife company a bit longer?" a white-haired gentleman asked with a smile.
"Mr. Smith is so devoted and family-oriented. Even this late, you're still thinking about company matters. No wonder the Smith Group keeps thriving under your leadership," another chimed in, their tone full of flattery and envy.
George stopped, gave these elders a slight nod, and responded: "Just doing what I should."
Watching him handle everyone with such ease, I found it utterly ironic.
He played the part so well that sometimes even he probably believed it himself.
In everyone's eyes, he was a devoted grandson, a loving husband and father, a young and accomplished entrepreneur.
But only I knew what kind of cold heart lay beneath that polished exterior.
If he truly cared, why would he choose a secret marriage, keeping me hidden from the world?
If he truly cared, why would he always be absent when I needed him most, even kicking me when I was down?
Violet left, and George left too.
The guests who'd only come out of respect for the Smith family soon found excuses and left one after another.
The once lively and noisy banquet hall quickly grew quiet, leaving only tables full of mess and our own family.
Flora insisted on staying to help Luna finish the last moments of her birthday.
With a forced smile on her face but an unusually firm tone, she said, "Luna, it's your birthday. How can the birthday girl clean up the mess herself? I'll stay with you!"
Looking at Flora's face, so pale it was almost bloodless, my heart tightened. I quickly tried to persuade her: "Flora, your health is important. You should go back to the hospital and rest. Mom and I can handle the cleanup."
Flora waved her hand, trying to sound casual: "What's there to worry about? I'm fine. Even if everyone left and I was the only one here, I could hold on. This body of mine is tough as nails!"
Emily stood nearby, watching Flora struggle to keep up appearances. Her eyes immediately reddened.
She stepped forward, her voice slightly choked but trying to sound cheerful: "Flora's right! Flora's body is the strongest! She'll definitely stay healthy!"
But we all knew Flora was just putting on a brave face. She hadn't taken her pain medication today—she'd endured the pain all evening to avoid spoiling the mood and keep Luna company.
Behind that strength was a heartbreaking fragility.
I really wasn't comfortable with this, so I said to Luna, "Mom, let's take Flora back to the hospital. The nurse called earlier asking about her. They said Flora has an important checkup tonight that can't be delayed."
Luna looked at Flora's forced smile that couldn't hide her exhaustion, her heart aching. She immediately nodded: "Okay, let's take her back right away."
Seeing our firm attitude, Flora knew she couldn't argue and stopped insisting.
Before leaving, she hugged Luna tightly, her voice low with a barely noticeable tremor: "Luna, happy birthday. I hope this isn't the last birthday I get to celebrate with you."
Luna's body clearly stiffened, then she hugged Flora back hard: "What nonsense are you talking? You still need to watch Milly grow up, still need to celebrate my sixtieth, seventieth, eightieth, and hundredth birthdays with me! Don't say such depressing things!"
Standing nearby, I felt like my throat was stuffed with cotton—sour and tight, barely able to breathe.
I quickly turned around, facing away from them, blinking hard, trying to push back the tears welling up.
My gaze fell on Emily in the distance, crouching on the ground, patiently playing a clapping game with Milly, both laughing happily.
Watching this scene, the heavy gloom in my heart lifted slightly, replaced by genuine comfort.
At least I still had Milly.
At least I still had friends like Emily and William.
Life wasn't completely dark—there were still glimmers of light and warmth.
Hearing we were taking Flora back to the hospital, Emily immediately volunteered: "Grace, you and Luna take Milly home and rest. You've all had a long day. I'll take Flora to the hospital. I promise to get her there safely and stay until her checkup is done!"
"That's too much trouble for you, Emily." I felt bad about it.
"What trouble?" Emily shot me a look. "Being polite with me? That's settled."
Without further discussion, she stepped forward to support Flora: "Come on, Flora, my car's right over there. Let's go back to the hospital, have the doctor check you over, then get a good night's sleep!"
I couldn't argue with her enthusiasm and determination, so I could only nod gratefully: "Alright then, thanks, Emily. Drive carefully. I'll call the hospital right now to let them know we're bringing Flora back so they can prepare."
Emily and Flora headed toward the parking lot.
I dialed the hospital caregiver's number and gave brief instructions.
Just as I hung up and was about to go home with Mom and Milly, my phone vibrated. The screen lit up with an Instagram notification.
Probably the hotel's poor network had delayed the message.
Emily, with her sharp ears, had already walked to the car but turned back a bit, asking curiously: "What is it, Grace? Did some celebrity make the news again? Or is there some big story?"
I hadn't paid much attention, casually opening the notification, expecting some irrelevant entertainment news.
However, when the Instagram content fully appeared on my screen, Emily, Mom, who had leaned over for a look, and I all froze.
The notification was from Sarah's Instagram account.
Just a few minutes ago, she'd posted an update.
No long caption, just a carefully shot photo.
It showed a lavishly decorated private room.
A huge round table covered with delicacies, with a multi-tiered luxury birthday cake in the center.
The main subject was clearly Tom, sitting in the seat of honor, beaming, blowing out candles.
And the focal point of the photo was Sarah, intimately holding onto George's arm.
In the corner of the photo, you could see a mountain of expensively wrapped gift boxes.
This photo made George's lies and his utterly perfunctory attitude toward my mother's birthday party look incredibly ironic.