Chapter 212
Violet isn't stupid. She must have guessed something from my repeated rejections, right?
She must have guessed that things between George and me are probably more serious than just arguments, and that I'm trying to completely separate both Milly and myself from the Smith family mess.
"Grace," her voice sounded somewhat aged and weak, "are you and George..."
"Grandma," I raised my voice a bit and interrupted her again, my tone deliberately rushed, "I have a work call coming in. I need to go. We'll talk later."
Without waiting for her response, I hung up directly.
The car instantly fell silent, with only the low hum of the engine.
I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, as if it were something hot to the touch.
Through the rearview mirror, I saw Milly sitting quietly in her car seat in the back, holding her stuffed toy, her little face turned toward the window.
She hadn't made a sound since I answered the phone.
Faced with my rejection of Violet, she just pressed her little lips together and quietly watched the scenery flying past outside.
She understands.
She might not fully grasp the complicated grudges between adults, but she can sense the atmosphere and knows I don't want to communicate with Violet.
Violet is good to me and good to Milly, that's genuine.
But she's first and foremost the Smith family's Violet, George's grandmother.
When it comes down to it, her position and her family interests will ultimately make her stand on George's side.
I can't take that gamble.
And I don't want to bet mine and Milly's future on sincerity that might be mixed with guilt and compensation.
That's wishful thinking, and it's a trap.
The red light came on again, and I slowly pressed the brake.
The moment the car stopped, I instinctively looked up at the rearview mirror.
In the mirror, Milly had somehow turned her head back and was quietly watching me with wide eyes.
Our gazes met silently in the rearview mirror.
In her little eyes, there were no questions, no complaints—only a quiet understanding beyond her years.
The car was so quiet it felt oppressive.
I looked ahead, tapped my fingers twice on the steering wheel, and finally tried to speak, keeping my voice as calm as possible, "Milly, is there something you want to ask Mommy?"
There was a faint rustling of fabric from the back seat.
Milly seemed to shift a bit, and after a while, her hesitant voice came, "Mommy, does this mean I can't go see Great-grandma anymore either?"
Her tone held a trace of careful disappointment.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, sour and swollen.
The question that had to come would come eventually.
The answer I had prepared almost burst out.
Everything about the Smith family should be cut off along with the end of this marriage.
But when the words reached my lips, seeing those clear eyes with a hint of unease in the rearview mirror, my heart softened.
Violet's love for Milly isn't fake.
The child's closeness and attachment to her elder shouldn't be completely denied because of adult grudges.
"No," I heard my own voice change tone, softer than I'd expected, "Great-grandma still loves you very much. When we have time in the future, Mommy will arrange to meet Great-grandma. We can have a meal together or go to the park, okay?"
These words were like a weak beam of light, instantly brightening Milly's eyes.
A genuine smile spread across her little face, and she nodded vigorously, "Okay!"
Seeing her eyes light up again, the discomfort in my heart was somewhat diluted by relief.
Some boundaries need to be drawn, but there's no need to cut off all the warm connections in a child's heart.
As long as it's under my control and safe.
In the evening, Emily invited us to dinner, saying she had a surprise for Milly.
She chose a family-friendly themed restaurant with a relaxed atmosphere.
Emily pulled out all the stops to entertain Milly—telling jokes, doing silly little magic tricks—making Milly laugh so much that the gloom finally lifted from her little face.
Watching this, my gratitude toward Emily deepened another layer.
After Milly finished eating, she went to play with blocks in the play area nearby.
Emily gave me a look and pulled me up, "Come on, come with me to the restroom."
I knew she had something to say.
Sure enough, at the sink, Emily slowly washed her hands while looking at me through the mirror, her tone becoming serious, "Grace, about that money I lent you—don't keep thinking about paying it back. Right now, the most important thing is to get this divorce done cleanly. Money matters can wait. You hear me?"
I dried my hands and nodded, "I know, Emily. Thank you."
"Also, tomorrow..." She turned around, her brow furrowed, "Are you really going to court alone? I just don't feel right about it. Why don't I come with you? I'll just wait outside, in case something happens..."
"Really, no need," I smiled, trying to lighten the mood, "He's just signing papers. What can he do to me? Broad daylight, in a courthouse—he can't exactly get physical, can he?"
But Emily wasn't buying it, still looking worried, "George, that bastard, wouldn't hit a woman, but that mouth of his, and his presence—I'm afraid you'll be at a disadvantage. No, I'm arranging two bodyguards for you. They'll follow from a distance, won't disturb you, just for peace of mind."
Seeing her determined look, I knew if I kept refusing, she'd really start worrying herself sick.
I had to compromise, "Fine, fine, I'll listen to you. But make sure they don't follow too closely and don't come into the building."
"Don't worry about that," Emily relaxed and took my arm, "Come on, let's go check on Milly. Tomorrow, everything will go smoothly."
The next morning, I dropped Milly off at kindergarten.
She knew I had something important to do today. As we parted, she hugged my neck and said softly, "Mommy, good luck."
I kissed her forehead, "Okay, Mommy will be back soon."
On the way to the courthouse, I called George ahead of time.
The phone rang until it automatically disconnected. No answer.
I sent another brief text: [I'm on my way.]
Again, nothing.
Looking at the unresponsive phone screen, a wave of irritation mixed with unease surged up.
What's his deal?
Backing out at the last minute?
Or did Sarah whisper something in his ear again, making him change his mind?
I cursed George in my head for being unreliable, always so wishy-washy, never considering others' feelings.
The agreement was already signed—what game is he trying to play now?
The car stopped at the courthouse entrance.
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The early autumn wind already carried a chill. I pulled my trench coat tighter and walked toward the main entrance.
The appointed time had arrived, but there was no sign of George's flashy black car at the entrance, nor any sign of him.
I stood at the bottom of the steps, not going in right away.
That worry in my heart grew like weeds.
Would George really not show up?
Would he humiliate me one last time this way, delay me?
Just as I was fretting, a familiar low, cold voice came from above my head.
"I'm here."
I looked up sharply.
George was somehow already standing a few steps away from me.
He was still in a perfectly tailored dark suit that made his figure look tall and his face stern.
The autumn sunlight fell on him, outlining his clear features, but couldn't warm the distant aura surrounding him at all.
Looking at this face that once made my heart race but now only disgusted me, I felt momentarily dazed.
It was as if I saw six years ago, also here, when we came for the first time.
The difference was, back then I was full of joy, nervously and expectantly stealing glances at him.
And now, my heart held only icy indifference and the weariness of wanting to end all this as soon as possible.
George looked down at me and asked again, his tone flat, "How long have you been here?"
I withdrew my gaze, no longer looking at him, my voice calm and flat, "Just arrived."
We had nothing more to say to each other and walked into the courthouse lobby one after the other.
Perhaps because we both looked young and well-dressed, the staff member who approached us wore the usual smile, "Hello, you two. You're here to get your marriage license, right? Please fill out the forms here first, then go over there..."