Chapter 130 Persuasion
Chapter 130 Persuasion
"You're finally awake!" Brenda frowned. "Shawn, do you even know what you're doing? Ruth is the heir to the Tobias Consortium now. If you can win her back, the Grey family could turn everything around!"
Shawn propped himself up to sit, his voice hoarse. "We're divorced."
"What?" Elsie froze. "When did that happen? How come I didn't know?"
"It's been done for a while." Shawn looked at her, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. "She planned it all from the start. The whole thing was a setup... I lost."
Brenda still wasn't ready to give up. "But what about the baby she's carrying..."
"That child has nothing to do with me." Shawn cut her off, his voice calm but laced with self-mockery. "You can stop scheming. There's nothing left."
He lay back down on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the image of Ruth holding the baby in the garden.
Sunlight had fallen across her, and the way she looked at that child was so tender. But when she looked at him, there was only calm.
That calm was more devastating than hatred.
The person he'd lost with his own hands could never come back.
---
After Nina's first month, Ruth began preparing for her first solo exhibition since returning to the design world.
She named it 'Homeward.'
The name meant something to her—she'd traveled a long, winding road, and finally, she could see the end.
William helped her secure a private gallery in Manhattan as the venue.
The space wasn't large, but the lighting was perfect.
During the prep period, William would stop by the gallery after work to check on the progress.
He'd stay by Ruth's side.
George would come on weekends too, crouching in a corner to help Ruth sort fabric scraps. Sometimes he'd get his fingers tangled in threads and run over with his little hand raised, calling out, "Pretty lady, help! My hand's stuck."
That phrase—'pretty lady'—stirred memories Ruth had almost forgotten.
Back at the hospital, this little guy had called her that too...
Nina, still too young, was kept in a stroller in the corner of the exhibition hall, watched over by a caretaker.
Most of the time she slept. When she did wake, she'd just stare at the ceiling—no crying, no fussing. So well-behaved.
---
On opening day, New York had rare clear skies.
Sunlight poured through the gallery's glass dome, falling across the draped fabrics and framed designs. Light and shadow interwove—it was beautiful.
Michael arrived first.
He came in holding a huge bouquet of white hydrangeas and shoved it into Ruth's arms the moment he walked through the door.
"Congratulations on your grand opening."
Ruth held the bouquet and smiled at him. "Dad, this is an exhibition, not a store opening."
"Same thing." Michael waved it off, his gaze sweeping over the works displayed around the hall. His voice dropped. "Either way, it's a new beginning for you."
As they spoke, the sharp click of heels echoed through the space. They both turned to see Patricia walking in.
She took one look at Ruth and said, "You look great. Guess someone's been taking good care of you."
Ruth smiled back. "Have you been traveling again? You don't look so great yourself."
At that, Patricia groaned. "Don't even get me started. But today's a happy day—let's not talk about that."
Before Ruth could respond, Patricia was already drawn to one of the pieces on display.
She leaned in close to study a design sketch, muttering, "This color palette is absolutely killer."
Edith arrived with Caleb.
The two walked in side by side and greeted Ruth at the door.
Ruth noticed something different about them—the way they stood together felt... off. But in a good way. They looked well-matched.
Marcus was the last to arrive.
Most people in the gallery didn't recognize him, but they sensed something commanding about the middle-aged man and couldn't help stealing glances.
He didn't join the crowd. Instead, he walked slowly along the exhibition wall, studying each piece one by one, until he stopped in front of a work titled 'Spring Day.'
Marcus stood there for a long time.
Ruth stood at the other end of the hall. She caught sight of his silhouette from the corner of her eye and paused, but in the end, she didn't walk over.
This piece was designed around themes her birth mother had loved. Though they'd never met, Ruth knew her mother must have loved her.
After all, even while gravely ill, she'd prepared birthday gifts for Ruth—from age one all the way to fifty-something.
Her mother's death anniversary was coming up in a few days. Maybe she'd visit tomorrow.
---
At ten a.m., the exhibition officially opened.
Ruth changed into a light apricot-colored dress she'd designed herself and stepped onto the small platform in the center of the hall, bathed in spotlight.
There weren't many people in the audience, but every single one had been a light in her darkness.
She held the microphone, her gaze sweeping over those familiar faces. The words she'd prepared caught in her throat for a moment. Then she spoke, her voice warm but clear.
"This past year, I've been through a lot. I've lost things. I've run away. I've questioned whether I deserved to be treated well. But eventually, I realized—some people come into your life just to teach you how to grow. And some people stay to show you that you are worth loving."
She glanced down at William.
He was holding Nina. George stood beside his leg. Both kids clutched small bouquets of baby's breath, looking up at her.
Ruth looked away and smiled. "So today, this exhibition is called 'Homeward'—finding the light that belongs only to you."
The room went quiet for a beat.
Then applause erupted.
Patricia stood in the front row, tears streaming down her face. She wiped at them while muttering, "How does she always know exactly what to say..."
Edith pulled a pack of tissues from her bag and handed them over, teasing, "Is your mascara waterproof?"
Marcus stood in the back row. He didn't clap. But he turned his head slightly and brushed the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.
If her mother were still alive, she'd be so proud.
---
The exhibition was a huge success. Far more people came than expected. Ruth was surrounded by journalists asking questions, and she answered each one patiently.
William didn't interrupt. He stood in the corner holding Nina, watching quietly, his eyes full of pride.
Nina woke in his arms. Her little hand waved in the air twice, as if sensing something, and she turned her head toward Ruth.
William looked down at her and said softly, "Your mom's pretty amazing, isn't she?"