Chapter 17: A Slap

Michael watched Grace laugh like that, unable to hide the smile in his eyes. It was like warm sunshine on a winter day, slowly melting everything.

However, neither of them noticed that in a corner of the restaurant, someone wearing a baseball cap was holding up their phone, the camera pointed in their direction, the shutter clicking several times.

The person kept their head down, quickly settled the bill, got up and left the restaurant, disappearing into the night.

After dinner, the two walked out of the restaurant. The night breeze was cool, stirring Grace's skirt and long hair.

"It's still early. Want to walk through that little garden over there?" Michael pointed to a patch of greenery beside the restaurant. "We can take a stroll, help digest the food. Mainly, I haven't talked enough yet."

Grace glanced at him and nodded with a smile.

The garden wasn't large, but it was thoughtfully designed. A gravel path was lined with various flowers on both sides. The air was filled with a faint fragrance of flowers and earth. Several ground lights cast a soft glow, illuminating the path in a hazy way, as if they'd walked into some fairy tale scene.

The two walked side by side, their shadows stretching long under the lights, sometimes overlapping, sometimes separating, like two lines that were both close and distant.

"Grace." Michael suddenly spoke, his voice very soft.

"Hmm?"

"Recently... have you been hiding something from me?"

Grace's steps faltered. She turned to look at him. "Why do you ask?"

"Your eyes." Michael didn't look at her, his gaze falling on the path ahead. "When you smile, your eyes are bright. But when you're not smiling, there's something in them—like you're very tired, and also like you're in pain."

Grace fell silent.

She hadn't expected that the first person to see through her would not be her companion of over twenty years, nor the adoptive parents who had once doted on her, but this senior she hadn't seen in years.

"That... might just be from working too hard." She said with a forced cheerfulness.

Michael nodded and didn't press further.

The two continued walking forward, passing through a patch of low shrubs and arriving at a circular plaza. In the center of the plaza was a small fountain, the sound of water gurgling, particularly peaceful in the night.

Grace was about to say something when she suddenly heard a "whoosh"—immediately after, a powerful jet of water burst from the flower bed beside them, shooting straight toward them!

Michael reacted quickly and tried to block it, but the water pressure was too strong. White spray burst everywhere, drenching them from head to toe.

Grace couldn't dodge in time and was completely soaked.

The icy water ran down her hair, soaking through her white dress. The fabric was already thin, and once wet, it clung tightly to her body, outlining every curve with perfect clarity.

Grace looked down and her face instantly turned deathly pale.

She instinctively covered her chest with her arms, frozen in place, her mind blank.

"Grace!"

An enraged shout, like a thunderclap, exploded in the night.

Grace jerked her head up, her pupils contracting sharply.

Jonathan stood at the garden entrance, his face ashen, veins bulging at his temples, his eyes poisonous as they fixed on her and Michael. He was still clutching his phone, the screen lit up—he must have received some message that brought him here.

Beside him, Caroline held his arm, a meaningful smile playing at her lips, her eyes scanning the drenched Grace from top to bottom, as if enjoying a good show.

"Grace, how did you end up like this?" Caroline's voice was sweet and syrupy, barely concealing her schadenfreude. "That dress... it's so see-through. Oh my, with so many people watching, how embarrassing. Sister, you're being rather bold."

Only then did Grace notice that several people had stopped to watch the spectacle. Some were whispering, some were pointing, and some had even raised their phones.

Her face instantly burned, not from embarrassment, but from anger and humiliation intertwined, like a fire blazing in her chest.

Michael reacted immediately. He quickly removed his soaked blazer and draped it over Grace, wrapping it tightly around her. Fortunately, Michael was tall, completely blocking outsiders' prying eyes.

"Don't be afraid," he said quietly, his voice steady and strong.

Jonathan watched their intimate interaction, the fury in his eyes nearly burning through the night.

"Grace!" He strode over and grabbed her arm, his grip so tight it felt like he might crush her bones. "What are you doing with him? Late at night, looking like this—have you no shame?"

Grace gasped in pain but bit her lip without making a sound, only trying to pull her arm free.

"Jonathan, let go." Michael stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Grace, his voice calm yet unquestionably firm. "You're hurting her."

"I'm hurting her?" Jonathan laughed coldly, his gaze cutting across Michael's face like a knife. "Michael, who the hell are you? She's my wife. How I treat her is none of your business."

"She's a person, not your property." Michael didn't back down. "No matter who you are, you have no right to treat her this way."

"I have no right?" Jonathan sounded as if he'd heard the joke of the century, his voice suddenly rising. "I'm her husband! I have rights granted by law! And you? What are you to her? A senior? Or... a lover?"

He spoke the last word heavily, like a knife stabbing viciously into Grace's heart.

Grace's head snapped up, her eyes red, her voice hoarse yet bone-chillingly cold. "Jonathan! Watch your mouth!"

"I should watch my mouth?" Jonathan turned to look at her, his gaze falling on her soaked white dress and the mustard-colored jacket draped over her, his fury intensifying.

"You dress like this, have dinner alone with him, stroll through gardens alone with him—which part did I wrongly accuse you of? You want me to watch my mouth? Grace, you know exactly what you've done! Doing filthy things and afraid people will talk about them?"

A crisp slap silenced everyone.

Jonathan clutched his face, staring at Grace in disbelief.