Chapter 152 Arthur’s Concession
Arthur was hit where it hurt most by Lance's words. His face turned ashen, but he couldn't argue back. The matter with Sophie was the guilt he couldn't speak of right now.
He clenched his fists, his eyes locked onto the glass door of Serenity Blooms Studio. Inside, Aria was teaching Jasper how to arrange flowers. The little guy stood on his tiptoes, his small hands clumsily holding the roses. Mother and son were so close together, a scene so warm it was almost painful to watch.
Those were the five years he had missed, moments he felt too unworthy even to touch.
Seeing him speechless, Lance snorted coldly, turned and pushed open the door. He deliberately softened his voice, "Aria, I brought those strawberry cream puffs Jasper loves."
Hearing the familiar voice, Jasper immediately dropped the flowers in his hands. His eyes lit up as he ran toward Lance, "Lance!"
Lance bent down to pick him up, pinched his soft cheeks, and handed him the puffs. His gaze swept over Aria with silent reassurance in his eyes.
Aria nodded slightly in thanks, though her fingers unconsciously rubbed the flower stem. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Arthur standing at the door. Her heart sank a little, but she pretended not to see him.
Standing outside, Arthur watched Lance being affectionate with Aria and her son. Jealousy wrapped around his heart like vines, making even his breathing taste bitter.
He was the child's biological father, yet he was like an outsider, only able to watch through a layer of glass as someone else took his place.
He finally couldn't hold back and pushed open the door, walking in with extremely light steps.
The shop was filled with a faint floral scent. Arthur's gaze went straight to Jasper. The little guy was biting into his puff when he saw him enter. He froze mid-bite, shrank back into Lance's arms, and looked at him warily, even forgetting to chew the puff in his hand.
Arthur's heart felt like it had been pricked by a needle, the pain numbing.
He pulled out an exquisite cartoon pendant from his pocket—a small rabbit made of white jade with delicate carving. He had asked a craftsman to rush it overnight.
He slowly walked up to Jasper, crouched down, and held out the pendant. His voice was as gentle as possible, careful and a bit pleading, "This is for you, okay?"
Jasper looked at the pendant, then looked up at Aria. His small hand gripped Lance's collar tightly. He didn't speak or reach out to take it.
Aria looked up, her gaze coldly sweeping over the pendant. Her tone was indifferent, "Mr. Grant, don't bother. My son doesn't need things from strangers."
The word "stranger" was like a sharp knife stabbing into Arthur's heart.
He looked up at Aria, his eyes churning with regret and grievance, "Aria, I'm not a stranger, I'm..."
He wanted to say "I'm the child's father," but when he met Aria's cold eyes, he swallowed the words back.
He knew that saying this now would only make her more disgusted.
"Mr. Grant, this is my flower shop. Outsiders aren't welcome. Please leave."
Aria cut him off, her tone completely flat but carrying an undeniable finality.
Arthur didn't leave. He stood up, his gaze sweeping over the flower racks in the shop. He saw several boxes of unopened flower materials piled in the corner and walked over on his own, "Let me help you move these. These materials are pretty heavy."
With that, he reached out to move the boxes, his movements quick and efficient, without any of his usual CEO pride.
Aria wanted to stop him but it was too late. She could only watch his back, her heart a jumble of emotions.
His attempt to make amends came too late.
She could now face everything independently. What he was doing only felt mocking to her.
Lance took it all in, holding Jasper as he walked to Aria's side and said in a low voice, "Ignore him. He's getting what he deserves."
Aria nodded slightly, her gaze glancing at Arthur's back.
He wore an expensive suit but didn't care at all as he moved the heavy flower boxes. Fine beads of sweat had already appeared on his forehead, and his figure somehow looked a bit pathetic.
Jasper lay in Lance's arms, secretly watching Arthur. His little brow furrowed as he asked Aria in a small voice, "Mommy, who is that man? Why is he helping us move things?"
Aria's heart clenched sharply. She looked down at her son's innocent eyes, her throat tight, unable to speak for a long time.
Hearing the child's words, Arthur paused in moving the boxes, his spine stiffening.
How he wanted to tell the child: I'm your father, I want to make it up to you, to make it up to your mother, to become your support.
But he still didn't say it.
He knew he needed to use actions to gradually open the tightly closed hearts of mother and son, bit by bit make up for the five years he missed, bit by bit win back their love.
No matter how difficult this road was, no matter how much coldness and rejection he had to endure, he would never let go.
Because this time, he would never let them disappear from his life again.
Arthur moved the last box of flower materials. Sweat beads from his forehead slid down his jawline, dampening his pressed shirt collar. His expensive suit was stained with some dirt, but he didn't care at all. He only looked at Aria with burning eyes, carrying a hint of cautious hope.
Aria looked away, refusing to look at him like that. Her fingers arranged the roses neatly, her tone still indifferent, "Mr. Grant, now that you're done, please leave. You don't need to trouble yourself here."
Lance, holding Jasper, raised an eyebrow at Arthur, his eyes full of mockery. He deliberately raised his voice, "Aria, I brought Jasper's picture books. Let's go to the back room and read stories. Don't let irrelevant people spoil the mood."
With that, he carried Jasper toward the inner room. Jasper lay in his arms, looking back at Arthur with his little brow furrowed, but didn't say anything.
Arthur was about to say something when Aria had already turned to follow Lance, leaving him only a cold back view, not even sparing him a glance.
Arthur stood frozen in place, looking at the tightly closed door of the inner room. Bitterness churned in his heart, yet he was helpless.
He knew that all his actions right now might only seem like empty gestures in Aria's eyes.
The shop door was gently blown open by the wind, bringing in a slight chill. Arthur came back to his senses, raised his hand to close the door, then walked to the corner and silently picked up the scattered wrapping paper. His movements were gentle, afraid of making any sound that might disturb the person he cherished.
He was like a silent guardian, staying in this small flower shop, guarding the light he had missed for five years.
After who knows how long, the inner room door opened. Jasper came out rubbing his eyes, clearly sleepy. Lance followed behind, his gaze toward Arthur still hostile.
Aria came out last. Seeing the corner Arthur had tidied up, a barely noticeable ripple passed through her eyes, but she still said coldly, "Why hasn't Mr. Grant left yet?"