Chapter 103
I didn't speak up to break this brief and fragile illusion.
I knew Milly had been waiting for this day for far too long.
I also knew clearly that George's gentleness and acceptance right now were just a show put on for Violet.
If Violet weren't here, he probably wouldn't even spare Milly a glance, let alone crouch down and open his arms on his own.
I watched Milly nestle against George's shoulder, her little hands clutching tightly at his collar, her small face showing that complex expression mixing unease with contentment. Logically, as a mother, seeing my child close to her father, I should feel comforted, even moved.
But my chest felt so heavy I could barely breathe.
This wasn't what I wanted.
What I wanted was genuine fatherly love and care, sincere companionship and responsibility—not this fake warmth built on deception and performance.
Yet this fake warmth was the only fatherly love Milly could touch right now.
For her sake, I could only stay silent, could only watch, letting this absurd and heartbreaking show continue.
Countless words churned inside me. I wanted to grab George, to tell him the truth about that night, to shout at him: "Milly isn't some illegitimate child! She's your own daughter! Do you know how deeply you've hurt her—hurt me?"
But I knew he wouldn't give me that chance.
His tenderness was a limited-time performance; his patience would only last until Violet turned away.
Sure enough, seeing George hold Milly, Violet's expression softened slightly, though she still maintained her elder's authority as she ordered: "George, go inside, offer your mother-in-law and your aunt a drink, apologize sincerely, then drink three cups as self-punishment. Don't let this happen again!"
George obediently set Milly down gently and responded, "Yes, Grandma."
Then he turned and walked into the banquet hall with a composed expression, picked up a wine glass, and approached Luna and Flora.
He stood there, posture straight, his gesture of raising the glass elegant and proper, his words of apology clear and well-articulated—impossible to fault.
When he drank the three cups of self-punishment, his Adam's apple bobbed, his expression unchanged, as if he were merely completing the most ordinary social courtesy.
He was really good at pretending, wrapping his coldness and indifference in perfect manners and appearance.
Luna and Flora had no smiles on their faces, just barely pulled at the corners of their mouths, and said it was fine.
Emily watched from the side, fuming with anger, her fists clenched tight, wanting nothing more than to rush up and tear off George's hypocritical mask.
Noticing her movement, I gently tugged at her sleeve and shook my head at her.
"Don't, Emily," I said quietly. "Today is my mother's birthday party. I don't want anyone fainting from anger or getting into a fight."
Mainly because Violet was getting old and couldn't handle too much stress.
Emily's chest heaved several times violently, but she finally released her fists resentfully. She glared at George, then huffily walked over and took the still-confused Milly by the hand: "Milly, come on, I'll take you to see the goldfish over there!"
Milly looked at me, then at Emily, and nodded obediently, letting Emily lead her away.
William also came to my side and said quietly, "Grace, I have some urgent business at the company to handle. I'll head out first. If you need anything, call me anytime."
"Okay, thank you, William." I thanked him sincerely.
If he and Emily hadn't been here today, facing the successive performances by Jerry and George, I probably would have been even more embarrassed.
After George appeared and everyone's attention shifted away from Jerry, he was left completely sidelined like a clown, his face ugly with embarrassment and anger.
He probably felt it was pointless to stay, and he wouldn't gain anything, so he could only turn around resentfully and slink away. But while he'd arrived arrogant and domineering, he left like a defeated rooster, fuming with anger.
Mom stared at Jerry's departing figure, her eyes complex.
I walked over, gently put my arm around Mom's shoulder, and said softly to comfort her: "Mom, today is your birthday. Don't let irrelevant people upset you. Come on, let's go cut the cake—everyone's waiting."
Mom took a deep breath, barely suppressing the gloom in her heart, and nodded at me: "Let's go."
Back in the banquet hall, the atmosphere became somewhat delicate because of George's arrival.
Violet probably wanted to ease the mood and deliberately brought up a topic, asking George: "George, where's Jack? Why didn't he come with you? I remember he loves cake the most."
George's expression didn't change, his tone flat as he answered: "Jack has a group activity at school today. He went to the amusement park with his classmates and teachers—it was arranged in advance."
Violet didn't probe further, just instructed: "Then when you go back later, remember to bring him a piece of cake."
George responded blandly: "Okay."
I didn't say anything, but I knew in my heart that piece of cake probably wouldn't make it back, or even if it did, Jack wouldn't touch it. Sarah had long since raised him to be picky—he only ate top brands. This kind of ordinary hotel-ordered cake would probably be inedible garbage in his eyes.
It was time to sing the birthday song.
Violet intentionally or unintentionally signaled for George and me to stand beside Luna.
Under everyone's gaze, I could only do as told and walk over, standing shoulder to shoulder with George.
We were very close, our shoulders almost touching. I could clearly smell that cold scent on him mixed with Sarah's perfume.
But his gaze never shifted to me even slightly, from beginning to end.
I didn't care, nor did I feel disappointed or sad because of it.
I was long used to it.
I knew that in his eyes, there would never be any trace of me.
The only reason he appeared here today was because he feared Violet's anger.
Otherwise, he'd definitely still be with Sarah right now, enjoying their time together.
In his heart, I as his wife, Luna as his mother-in-law—we never had any weight or status.
Even for something as simple as singing the birthday song, he was too stingy to open his mouth, just barely moving his lips, going through the motions.
Luna obviously didn't care either. She wore a proper smile on her face, her gaze gently sweeping over the relatives and friends present, finally settling on the cake.
None of us expected, nor dared to expect, to receive his sincere blessing.
After the cake was eaten, the guests began to move around freely, chatting in small groups.
Violet, being old after all, showed signs of fatigue on her face.
She had the butler help her and walked over to George and me, saying, "I'm a bit tired, I'll go back and rest first. George, since you're here, spend more time with Grace and Milly, take them for a walk around—the night is nice."
Violet's words were clearly still trying to create opportunities for us to spend time together.
George's face showed no emotion; he just nodded and responded: "Okay, Grandma, be careful on your way."
Violet said a few more things to me about taking care of myself, then left with the butler's company.
Watching Violet leave, I turned around, took Milly's hand—she'd just been brought back by Emily—and silently followed behind George, walking out of the hotel entrance.
The night air was slightly cool, carrying the city's unique scent.
Milly's little hand gripped mine tightly, but her big eyes couldn't help sneaking glances at that tall but distant figure ahead.
Just as we reached the open area at the hotel entrance, George's phone rang again at the most inopportune moment.
It was that same tone-deaf humming by Sarah that he'd set as her special ringtone.
George's steps didn't pause at all. He quickly pulled out his phone, glanced at the caller ID, and the indifference and distance in his expression when facing us instantly melted away, replaced by a clearly visible tenderness.
Without any hesitation, he quickly walked several steps away, turned his back to us, and answered the call.
Emily had somehow followed us out again and stood behind me. Looking at George's back, she let out a scoff: "That ringtone is quite unique. If you didn't know better, you'd think it was some new form of noise pollution."
I pulled at the corner of my mouth and said to Emily in an almost numb, calm tone: "That's Sarah singing."
Emily's expression froze instantly, like she'd swallowed a fly—disgusted and incredulous.
She held it in for a long time before squeezing out a curse through gritted teeth: "George, that bastard! What a scumbag! Treating this disgusting thing like a treasure!"
After cursing, she looked at me with frustration, lowering her voice with urgency: "Grace, why haven't you told Mrs. Violet Smith about the divorce lawsuit and the court filing? Just let this scumbag and that homewrecker be so arrogant? If Mrs. Violet Smith knew the truth, she definitely wouldn't force you to be with him anymore!"