Chapter 72 Urging Marriage
As soon as Isabella got home, she sent Francis a message complaining about what a terrible son he was—she had to go out herself just to see him, and ended up in a car accident. She attached photos of her injuries. Francis and Isabella actually had a pretty good relationship, so he immediately called to check on her, asking if she was seriously hurt. Isabella went on complaining for a while, making Francis smile wryly. He could tell Isabella was just being dramatic, so he promised to visit her at home after work. Only then did Isabella hang up, satisfied.
As soon as Francis arrived, he asked about Isabella's injury. Seeing it was just a scraped knee, he felt relieved. Isabella said unhappily, "What, I want to see my own son, and I need an excuse? If I hadn't gotten hurt today, would you have made up some reason not to come see me?"
Francis said, "Mom, I've been really busy with work lately. I don't visit Dad often either. Besides, you called, and here I am."
Isabella snorted lightly, took a sip of coffee, and set the cup down on the coffee table with her pinky finger raised. "Since you're here, stay and have dinner with me."
Francis checked his watch. He'd promised Jennifer he'd be home for dinner tonight. At this hour, Jennifer was probably almost done preparing it. He and Jennifer had just made up, and he didn't want to waste her effort again. Before he could get the words of refusal out, Isabella set her cup down heavily and said, "I don't care what plans you have; cancel them. What could be more important than your injured mother?"
Francis frowned and said, "Mom, don't be angry. Of course, you're more important. I have a dinner appointment, but I'll call now and tell her not to wait for me." He and Jennifer lived together and saw each other all the time. Relatively speaking, he did spend less time with Isabella. This time, he'd just have to let Jennifer down. After saying this, he stepped aside to call Jennifer and said a few soothing words. Jennifer was gentle and understanding, saying it was fine and asking if he'd be coming home that night.
After the call, Francis sat back down across from Isabella. Isabella had noticed the affection in his voice during the call and guessed, "I heard you've been dating someone recently, and you're pretty into her. That was her on the phone just now, right? Why don't you bring her over so I can meet her?"
Francis smiled and said, "There's no need."
Isabella understood—Francis was probably just playing around with this girlfriend, not taking it seriously, just like all those other women before. An idea formed in her mind. "So many of my old classmates are already grandparents. When are you going to give me a grandchild to brag about? Look at you, almost thirty years old. When are you going to seriously date someone, get married, and have kids?"
Francis's face hardened. This was the main reason he didn't want to visit Isabella—he was afraid of her nagging. He was 28 years old, but in Isabella's eyes, he was still a disobedient child. She could always find fault with every aspect of his life and demand that he do things her way. Isabella saw Francis's expression turn cold, but she paid no attention and kept talking. "I met a girl today, beautiful, gentle, and kind. I'd be so happy to have a daughter-in-law like her. Francis, take a look, such a pretty girl." She opened Jennifer's social media, clicked on her photos, and tried to show them to Francis.
Francis turned his head away, his tone cold. "Mother, if you like her, be friends with her yourself. Don't try to set me up with her. I'm not short on women."
Isabella glared at him. "You little brat, how dare you look down on my taste. With that bad temper of yours, if you weren't rich, who could stand you? I'm worried introducing you would be unfair to Ms. Brown. She helped me today—I can't repay kindness with harm." She put her phone away. Actually, she did kind of want to introduce Jennifer to Francis, but since Francis wasn't interested, she couldn't let Jennifer down.
"If she helped you, you should thank her properly," Francis responded without emotion.
At the dinner table, Isabella kept going. "Since you don't want my introductions, at least put some effort into yourself. Men need to settle down and start a family. You can't just focus on work—you need to find a suitable wife soon. I had Tina when I was thirty, and my body couldn't quite keep up anymore."
"I have my own plans for these things." Francis had no longing for marriage. He'd grown up in a home where his parents lived separately, and his understanding of family was just a cold combination of interests. In his youth, he had loved someone and considered whether to marry her and have children. He'd imagined having a happy, loving family. But that person had abandoned him without mercy. After that, he stopped expecting love. Such an illusory thing wasn't as reassuring as the balance in his bank account. He worked hard to make money simply for the freedom money could buy.
The atmosphere between Isabella and Francis wasn't exactly warm. Not long after dinner, Francis made an excuse and left. Driving home, he opened the sunroof. The night was pitch black, and the night wind scattered the worry from his brow. Actually, he hadn't thought about that woman in a long time, but today, when Isabella brought up marriage, he thought of her again. She was the first and only woman he'd ever considered proposing to—Aurora Bell.
When Francis got home, his face was dark. Jennifer asked what was wrong, but he just shook his head. Jennifer assumed it was work again. She didn't ask more questions, just poured him a glass of ice water. Francis picked up the glass and put it down. He looked at Jennifer with a complicated expression. "Get a bottle of wine and have a few drinks with me."
Jennifer was sensitive and felt that tonight's Francis was very unfamiliar. He seemed a bit sad. She silently got a newly opened bottle of red wine and poured for both of them. Francis swirled his glass and took a few sips. Staring at the small whirlpool at the bottom of the glass, he asked, "Jennifer, did you love Eugene? How much?"
Jennifer nearly choked on her mouthful of wine. She covered her mouth, coughing, eyes wide. Francis handed her a tissue and patted her back until she finally recovered. She said with a frown, "Why ask that question? I've already let him go."
Francis clinked her glass. "Just a bit curious. You women probably have interesting views on love."
"Don't get mad when I tell you." Jennifer carefully watched his expression. Only after he nodded did she continue. "Of course, I loved him. That's why I was so angry when I found out he had deceived and used me. At my most desperate, I even thought about taking him down with me. He was my first man. All my beautiful expectations of love were once pinned on him. I thought we'd have a happy ending like in a love story. He made me realize how cruel reality is."
What about me? Francis suddenly wanted to ask.