Chapter 48
Grace's POV
After Valentine's Day, Alex became unusually busy. Although he started actively calling and texting me, we could hardly find time to meet.
Either Alex was out of town, or I was busy handling Wilson Group affairs.
During the rare moments when I had free time these past few days, I found myself constantly thinking about him. Sometimes I couldn't help but call him, just wanting to hear his voice.
But without exception, before we could say more than a few words, he had to hurriedly hang up.
This made that night when he kissed me feel almost like a dream—suddenly becoming less real.
However, Eleanor would send me messages on time every day, and occasionally invite me to have dinner at her house.
She made me feel like I truly had family.
"Grace dear, are you free to come home for dinner tonight? Ethan is rarely cooking personally!"
I was looking at my phone when Eleanor called. Her voice was warm and enthusiastic, impossible to refuse.
Thinking of the scene of a family sitting together for dinner, a hint of warmth appeared in my eyes, and my voice became gentle: "I'd be delighted, Eleanor. I'll be right over."
An hour later, I drove to the Morgan estate with health supplements and fruits I'd selected for them.
Thinking I might see Alex, I specially dressed up—changed into a pale pink dress and put on light makeup.
When I entered the house, Eleanor excitedly rushed out to greet me. Seeing the gifts I brought, she frowned slightly.
"Don't bring these next time, we don't want to be a burden to you."
"Eleanor, I'm not that delicate. Besides, you always send me things too!" I smiled.
"That's different, dear. I'm your elder. You're like my own child—you may lack nothing, but I can't help but care about you."
Eleanor's words always deeply touched me, making my eyes well up.
I took her arm and let myself act a bit spoiled: "Eleanor, you're so good to me!"
"Isn't that what I should do? You must be tired from work. Go rest on the sofa—dinner will be ready soon!"
Eleanor wanted to take me to sit on the sofa, but I insisted on going to the kitchen to help, saying I smelled enticing aromas.
Ethan stood among the kitchen staff wearing an apron, directing the heat while skillfully preparing dishes, looking every bit like a master chef.
"Ethan, your cooking skills are amazing! I could smell the aroma from outside!"
"Ha! I don't mean to boast, but in this house, I'm the undisputed king of the kitchen. Grace, you're in for a real treat tonight!"
Ethan's face was flushed red from the steam, but he still spoke with humor and wit.
His laughter was infectious, and everyone laughed along, chiming in with praise.
Eleanor whispered in my ear: "He loves hearing compliments!"
Looking at the two of them, I couldn't help but feel a touch of envy.
Last time I chatted with Eleanor, she told me many stories about them.
Ethan came from a prominent family, but Eleanor was from an ordinary working-class background. They were college sweethearts who went through countless storms to reach today.
Many people in the Morgan family initially didn't approve of their union, but Ethan always held Eleanor's hand tightly, never letting go for a moment.
When they married, Ethan promised to cook for Eleanor for the rest of his life. Even now, no matter where they are, they like to cook for themselves. No matter how busy work gets, Ethan insists on preparing at least one meal a day for Eleanor.
This has become his habit and the promise he's most proud of in his life.
"Dear, Alex inherited Ethan's qualities, he will definitely treat you even better." Eleanor gazed at me.
"I've never doubted that," I said earnestly.
Soon, the dining table was filled with delicious dishes.
"Try this—abalone is your grandfather's specialty!"
I had just sat down after helping when Eleanor started putting food in my bowl. Without thinking, I asked: "Shouldn't we wait for Alex to come back?"
Hearing me mention Alex, a flash of joy appeared in Eleanor's eyes, but it quickly turned to helplessness.
"Unfortunately, he's now swamped with urgent matters, I'm afraid he won't be able to enjoy this feast!"
The worry hit me like a physical blow.
"He's dealing with an emergency at the offshore drilling platform on the East Coast," Ethan said, his fork pausing mid-air. "There was an explosion. Several workers were injured."
My appetite vanished instantly. The perfectly prepared abalone on my plate suddenly looked unappetizing, and I set down my fork with trembling fingers.
"An explosion?" My voice came out smaller than I intended.
Eleanor reached across the table to squeeze my hand. "The boy has always had this overwhelming sense of responsibility," she said, her eyes reflecting the same worry I felt. "Every time there's a crisis, he has to handle it personally. Won't rest until every problem is solved."
Of course he would. I thought of Alex's intense focus, the way he approached everything with methodical precision. But this wasn't a boardroom negotiation—this was dangerous.
"So he's... he's going to be working through the night?" My voice trembled slightly. "His body can't handle that kind of stress."
Ethan sighed heavily, setting down his wine glass. "He's afraid we'll worry, so he always downplays these situations. Reports good news, hides the bad."
I remembered our last phone conversation—how his voice had sounded slightly tired, though he'd brushed off my concerns. My stomach twisted with anxiety.
"Grace, dear, you've barely touched your food," Eleanor observed gently.
I forced a smile. "I'm sorry. It's delicious, really. I'm just..."
"Worried about Alex," Eleanor finished knowingly.