Chapter 7

Eleanor's deep eyes stared at him, calm as still water.

"Are you really taking her to Grandpa's birthday party? You know what Grandpa's like."

She wasn't accusing him of being right or wrong, just reminding him.

Arthur naturally understood—Grandpa didn't like Sally.

An illegitimate daughter, how could she enter the Boleyn Family estate?

Those were Nathan's exact words.

Besides, how could Sally compare to Eleanor? Whether it was looks, personality, or ability, she fell short of Eleanor in every way.

Eleanor was the most suitable daughter-in-law for the Boleyn Family.

The day after tomorrow was Nathan's birthday. If he openly showed up with Sally, it would surely upset Nathan. If things got messy back then, it would've been a nightmare to deal with.It was indeed a troublesome matter.

Arthur's brows furrowed slightly. Just as he was pondering this, his phone rang again.

He glanced at the caller ID, a trace of warmth flashing in his eyes.

He answered the call, not considering Eleanor's feelings at all.

They were getting divorced anyway—who he talked to on the phone was none of her business.

Even if he brought another woman home, what could she do about it?

"Sally!"

He called out softly.

It really was her calling again. She still wasn't willing to give up, was she?

She wanted so badly to enter the Boleyn Family—this was a perfect opportunity.

"I know, but you also know what Grandpa's like. Now isn't the right time. I promise you, I'll definitely take you back in the future, okay..."

He gently reassured Sally and headed straight upstairs.

As he left, his eyes didn't even glance at her, as if she were air, completely invisible.

Eleanor curled up on the sofa, as if trying to hide herself inside it.

Listening to his gentle voice, she only felt cold all over.

That was a doting voice—he gave it only to Sally, never to her, his wife.

Watching his retreating figure, Eleanor's heart twisted into a knot.

Right, they were getting divorced anyway. What was she still hoping for?

She got up and slowly returned to the bedroom.

Before her eyes was the familiar scene—that warm, big bed, her photo still on the nightstand, everything as it was.

She smiled bitterly and took out a nightgown from the closet to change into.

Just then, the bedroom door was pushed open.

Arthur had finished his call in the study and came straight here.

Eleanor was a bit surprised to see him, but her face remained indifferent.

"If you're sleeping here, I'll sleep in the guest room."

She spoke calmly.

After all, they were getting divorced—sleeping together anymore wouldn't be appropriate.

She lowered her eyes and walked past him.

Just then, he grabbed her.

Caught off guard, she was pulled into his arms and pressed hard against the wall.

He was taller than she, looking down at her. His dark eyes gleamed with desire.

She knew what that look meant.

"Let go of me!"

Eleanor tried hard to push him away, but he held her tighter.

Her body stiffened.

"Mr. Boleyn!"

She used this distant form of address, hoping to awaken his reason.

"We're getting divorced. Please show some self-respect."

He was demanding a divorce on one hand, yet being so presumptuous with her on the other—what did he take her for?

If it were just about satisfying his desires, he could find another woman.

"We're not divorced yet, are we? As long as you're still my wife, I can exercise my rights as a husband."

He spoke with grand justification, domineering, and arrogant.

He'd always been like this with her. As long as he wanted to, he could do whatever he pleased.

He forcefully lifted her chin, his thin lips pressed together, lowering bit by bit.

Her pink lips hadn't had time to speak before his mouth covered them.

His movements were rough, ravaging, and overwhelming, as if trying to swallow her whole.

She felt somewhat intoxicated, instinctively closing her eyes.

After a while, he finally released her lips, but his mouth continued downward, falling like raindrops on her fair neck.

Her eyelashes trembled lightly, and her originally stiff body gradually softened.

He felt the change in her body, and his hands became even more presumptuous, landing on her chest, kneading forcefully.

Her face showed rapture, unconsciously letting out soft moans.

Five years—they'd made love many times. He knew her body inside out. He naturally knew how to excite her.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes!"

Her cheeks flushed red, her voice sounding drunk.

He removed her nightgown and entered her body in one motion.

Under his assault, she finally let down all her defenses.

She responded to him, her moans becoming increasingly alluring.

Suddenly, Arthur stopped.

She had her eyes closed and couldn't see his expression, but his cold, mocking voice fell clearly on her ears.

"You'll never refuse me. Has Lucas seen you like this?"

It was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head.

Eleanor's body froze instantly.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes, the desire in them completely gone.

She could naturally hear the mockery in his words.

But didn't he understand? She liked him, which was why she acted that way.

Did he really think any random man could make her so uninhibited?

Then what did that make her?

What was she in his eyes?

Eleanor pushed him away forcefully.

"Getting angry? Looks like you've already slept with him—he's already seen you like this?"

Eleanor's whole body trembled.

"Arthur, you're an asshole!"

She stormed into the bathroom and locked the door.

Leaning against the door, her body slid down softly.

She crouched on the floor, arms wrapped around her head, tears of pain and humiliation sliding down her cheeks.

How could he say such hurtful things?

She was so cheap in his eyes!

Sally was the woman he truly loved.

Her emotions calmed down slightly. She got up and turned on the faucet, letting cold water wash over her body, again and again.

What they'd just done wasn't passion—it was humiliation!

She wanted to wash it all away.

Arthur's voice came from outside the door: "What, you get upset when I mention Lucas? Looks like I was right."

Her emotions collapsed again. With a sob in her voice, she said, "Whether I've slept with Lucas or not, you know better than anyone. You know I love you, so you feel so secure, hurting me over and over again!"

Arthur fell silent.

She was right—where would she have time to sleep with Lucas?

Every day, she was either busy with work or at home taking care of him. She had no time for anything else.

A trace of guilt surged through his heart.

He found the key and opened the bathroom door.

Eleanor was curled up in the corner, trembling all over, eyes blurred with tears.

"I'm sorry. I had some drinks, so my behavior was a bit extreme."

He picked up a bath towel and dried her body, his movements gentle.

"I'll carry you back."

He gently picked her up, placed her back on the bed, and thoughtfully covered her with the blanket.

After doing all this, he turned off the light and left.

In the darkness, she lay with her eyes open, thinking about what had just happened.

He was rarely that gentle with her!

She'd always hoped for his tenderness.

But now she'd rather he be colder to her, so her heart wouldn't hurt so much when she left.

When you can't make a clean break, you'll only suffer more.