Chapter 213 Sneak Preview of a Stay-at-Home Boyfriend

Chapter 213 Sneak Preview of a Stay-at-Home Boyfriend

"Yes, I regret it." Eleanor stared coldly at Harold, repeating what she'd just said word for word.

"Eleanor!"

Harold swayed, barely able to stay on his feet. He raised his hand, fingers trembling slightly, pointing at her, his voice hollow, "How could you... No, you can't abandon me and our daughter, you can't do this."

"Mr. Hernandez, either you're playing dumb or something's seriously wrong with you. You should get to the hospital and get checked out before you end up in the dementia ward."

Eleanor threw out these words and didn't look at him again. She grabbed Terrence's hand and walked quickly toward the residential complex.

"No, Eleanor, don't go!"

Harold let go of his daughter's small hand and stepped forward to chase after her.

Just then, a tall figure rushed over from the side, blocking his way. It was Terrence's bodyguard.

Harold's eyes were bloodshot. "Get out of the way."

Several bodyguards stood their ground like a human wall, blocking him from getting close to her.

Harold clenched his jaw, slowly tasting blood in his mouth, but he seemed not to notice. His gaze locked firmly on their retreating figures.

If looks could kill, he would have struck them down at this moment.

Up ahead, Eleanor gripped Terrence's hand tightly, the two of them very close, looking like lovers who'd been together for years. He didn't know what Terrence whispered in her ear, but suddenly her face broke into a smile, bright and soft.

Harold felt like someone had stabbed him hard in the chest, the pain making it hard to breathe.

She had once been his wife.

They'd been married for years, lived together, slept in the same bed, done everything intimate lovers do.

But now, she stood beside another man, leaned into another man's arms, and clearly had no intention of looking back.

Harold felt his heart tear open, regret and guilt flooding in all at once, swallowing him whole.

"No... it shouldn't be like this."

Harold seemed to be talking to himself, yet also calling out to her, "Eleanor, I'm the one who loves you most, please just look at me once, please—"

His eyes were red-rimmed, filled with bloodshot veins, tears suddenly sliding down. His legs went weak, unable to hold up anymore. He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, his body trembling slightly, his back bending as if he could no longer hold himself upright.

Jessica, standing nearby, was shocked to see Harold suddenly collapse to the ground. Grief hung over him like a dark cloud.

Jessica rushed forward in panic.

"Daddy—"

Her voice carried panic and fear.

Harold lifted his head when he heard Jessica's voice.

He looked at her tear-reddened eyes and little nose, his chest seizing with pain, as if someone had pressed a boulder on it. "Jessica, I was wrong, your mother..."

The words stuck in his throat, unable to continue.

Jessica clutched at the sleeve on his arm, her knuckles white from the grip, her voice choked, "Daddy, I want Mommy, I want to go back to before, when Mommy was still home, still with me..."

"Jessica, we can't go back." Harold's voice was hoarse as he cut off Jessica's fantasy.

Just now when Eleanor looked over, there wasn't a trace of softness in her eyes, only calm and distance, like she was looking at a complete stranger.

"Waaah... sob sob..."

Jessica had already been barely holding her emotions together, and hearing this, his words directly crushed her last bit of hope. She immediately opened her mouth wide and burst into uncontrollable crying.

"I don't want Mommy to leave."

"I want Mommy."

"I want Daddy too... sob sob..."

By the end, Jessica couldn't speak clearly anymore, only broken sobs remained.

Harold watched Jessica cry herself hoarse, his chest feeling like someone was pounding on it repeatedly, the pain making him want to hold her tight.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace, his voice shaking, "Don't cry, Jessica, you still have me..."

"Sob sob... I want Mommy." Jessica buried her face in her father's shoulder, her crying muffled against his ear, carrying complete devastation.

The father and daughter held each other like this, one gripping the other tightly, one practically clinging to the other.

Harold made no sound, only silently shedding tears. Jessica cried loudly, gasping for breath.

The two of them stood by the roadside, looking like people abandoned by the world, with nowhere to go.

Their crying and arguing attracted nearby pedestrians, several people stopping to look curiously in their direction.

Harold realized this and immediately picked up Jessica and walked toward the car, placing her inside. He closed the windows and doors, shutting out the stares of strangers.

Jessica's tears were still falling, her eyes swollen red from crying, puffy and inflamed.

By the end she had no strength left, her breathing becoming shallow. She leaned against her father's chest and slowly fell asleep.

Harold reclined the passenger seat, then carefully moved Jessica to the back seat. He took out a small blanket from the car and covered her with it, making sure she wouldn't get cold, before returning to the driver's seat.

He looked up toward the entrance of the residential complex, his gaze fixed there, unwilling to look away for a long time.

After Eleanor walked into the complex earlier, she hadn't looked back once.

This time she was determined to leave, her attitude so firm it left no room for hope.

Harold gripped the steering wheel, veins bulging on the back of his hand, his heart full of resentment.

He'd already admitted his mistakes, realized how absurd his actions had been, yet Eleanor still wouldn't give him even one chance.

They were husband and wife for years, they had a shared life and memories. In his mind, they were the most suitable pair for each other.

And Terrence was just some man who showed up later. What right did he have to take his wife away?

The jealousy in Harold's eyes nearly overflowed. His originally handsome features twisted with jealousy and anger, his whole face completely transformed.

"Eleanor, I won't let go. In this lifetime, you can only be mine."

Harold narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze turning cold and hard, like he'd locked onto prey and wouldn't let loose.

Inside the complex.

Actually, Eleanor had heard Jessica's crying. Every sound was clear in her ears, but she didn't turn back, didn't even slow her pace.

Since she'd already left, she wouldn't allow herself to hesitate anymore.

In her mind, the bond between them, father and daughter, and herself had been completely severed.

Before, her heart had been soft. She'd always made excuses for them, justified their actions, until that one time when she fell down the stairs, pushed and beaten by her daughter. That's when she felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head.

In that moment, the last bit of weakness and sympathy she felt for the father and daughter completely disappeared.

Terrence held her hand tightly, his voice low, trying to reassure her, "Eleanor, don't be sad. You have me, you have your mother, and you have my mother. Our care for you will only grow stronger each day."

"I know." Eleanor felt her chest wrapped in warmth. She gripped his hand just as tightly and didn't let go.

In this lifetime, she never wanted to let go of his hand again, never wanted to push this person away.

Before long, the two returned to the villa.

Eleanor had planned to clear the dishes from the table, but when she walked into the dining room, she found the table already cleared, everything cleaned up neatly.

A trace of surprise crossed her face.

Terrence caught her reaction and smiled slightly, explaining, "When you were helping your mother back to her room, I put all the dishes in the dishwasher and let it run."

"I didn't know you had potential as a house husband." Eleanor relaxed a bit, teasing him with a smile.

Terrence walked toward her and bent down to bring his eyes level with hers. He curved his lips, his tone carrying a hint of deliberate suggestion, "Eleanor, want a preview of my live-in boyfriend skills?"

Eleanor caught the implication in his words, curiosity rising. "How would I do that?"

A faint smile colored Terrence's eyes. He took her hand, his fingertip slowly drawing circles in her palm. "As long as Eleanor moves in with me, I can cook for you at home every day."

"That's not a bad offer. I can seriously consider it." Eleanor's eyes curved with obvious pleasure in her voice.

This was basically an invitation to move in together.

Though the two hadn't taken the final step yet, what needed to be revealed had been revealed, what needed to be seen had been seen.

Eleanor wasn't some naive girl. She'd been married once before and had a mature understanding of intimacy and boundaries.

More importantly, she genuinely liked him.

And Terrence, in her heart, was someone worth entrusting her life to.

Clear joy appeared on Terrence's handsome face. He pulled her into his arms, unable to help tightening his embrace, excitement evident in his voice, "Eleanor, you're saying yes, right?"