CHAPTER 29: CHAPTER 29: THREE YEARS AGO, YOU CHOSE TO MARRY ELEANOR WINSLOW

"What do you mean?" Eleanor asked directly.

Adrian Grant didn’t answer, slowly descending the stairs. He seemed not fully awake, his movements much slower than usual, lacking the usual briskness, even his softly tousled hair made him appear more gentle and approachable.

Adrian placed the glass of water aside and stood firmly in front of Eleanor.

The events of last night flooded Eleanor’s mind—the passionate kiss, the burning hands, all the sensations vividly remained.

She instinctively wanted to retreat but forced herself to stay put, tilting her head to meet the man’s gaze, showing no sign of fear.

"Does it still hurt?" Adrian asked, taking Eleanor’s hand to examine the injury.

"You checked it last night." Eleanor withdrew her hand, not wanting him to touch her, "Are you so interested in the injury you caused?"

Adrian raised his eyebrow slightly, "Checked it?"

"Do you not remember what you did last night?" Eleanor tilted her head questioning.

She had never seen Adrian drunk; given his current status, he only needed to sip occasionally at social gatherings, and no one dared to urge him to drink.

Adrian remained silent, leisurely staring at Eleanor.

Eleanor seriously said, "You came to see me last night, asking me to discuss our divorce today. Do you remember?"

Adrian unexpectedly smiled, abruptly reaching out to squeeze Eleanor’s nape, almost like rubbing a kitten.

"Zia Winslow, I was drunk, not stupid!"

"Since you remember, why pretend to be mute!"

Eleanor was furious, gritting her teeth, pushing away the trouble-making hand, her heart in chaos, extremely annoyed.

She had proposed divorce, yet Adrian could still be so unreservedly intimate with her?

"Haven’t you discussed the divorce with Grandpa and Grandma?" Eleanor wanted to avoid too much alone time with Adrian, cutting straight to the point, "Grandma called today, asking me to return next week to celebrate her birthday."

"Hmm." Adrian wasn’t surprised, as if he had anticipated this all along.

Hmm?

Is "hmm" all you say?

"What’s the meaning of ’hmm’?"

Adrian retreated slightly, leaning against the sofa backrest, "Eleanor, with Grandma’s health, telling her about our divorce might send her to the hospital that very night."

Old Madam Grant had heart disease and couldn’t handle any shocks, usually needing careful attention. Eleanor understood this fact and felt reluctant, but she didn’t want to drag things out any longer.

She couldn’t just keep holding out for Old Madam Grant’s sake, right?

Eleanor’s fingers unconsciously clenched into a fist.

The next moment, a sudden force pried it open again.

Adrian gingerly unfolded her fingers, encouraging her to relax.

"After a burn, try not to clench your fingers. Didn’t your, um, whatever senior take you to see a doctor and get these instructions?"

’That whatever senior’ carried a hint of inexplicable sarcasm.

Eleanor let him hold her hand, suddenly smiling, "You don’t sign the divorce agreement, your private lawyer is always unavailable, and now you’re acting intimate with me—President Grant, you’re making me suspect you’re—unable to let go of me!"

The man was taken aback for a moment, then replied naturally, "Yes, the divorce has been your proposal from the beginning to end."

Eleanor remembered what he’d said—that he liked her—body.

Ha, liking the body, such words were truly hurtful.

Eleanor withdrew her hand, crossing her arms in a subconscious self-protective stance, "You don’t want a divorce?"

Adrian didn’t answer.

A silent agreement.

Not willing.

He had never agreed from the beginning.

Eleanor found this quite pointless.

"Not divorcing is fine." Eleanor said, "You promise not to contact Mia Winslow anymore, I won’t file for divorce, and I’ll continue peacefully as your Mrs. Grant, how about that?"

Adrian frowned slightly, "Eleanor, making demands is not irrationality."

Eleanor laughed angrily, "You men are really interesting! We speak sensibly, set conditions, and you call it irrational behavior!"

"Eleanor, given the extent of the injury you caused Mia Winslow back then, she could sue you for intentional harm and make you bear criminal responsibility."

Eleanor gritted her teeth, stubbornly looking at him, upon careful observation, her eyes were filled with resentment and grievance.

The soreness in her eyes made Eleanor tightly close them, reopening them calmly.

"I didn’t harm Mia Winslow, I didn’t do it." Eleanor spoke slowly, as if trying to convince him.

She paused for a second, and without waiting for Adrian to speak, she laughed again.

"I know you won’t believe it! You didn’t believe three years ago that I didn’t plot to marry you, how could you possibly believe that your childhood love, Mia Winslow’s injury wasn’t caused by me?"

Eleanor felt increasingly aggrieved, all her love over these years was wasted, these three years wasted on nothing!

Adrian’s thin lips slightly parted, seeing the moisture in her eyes made his heart ache fiercely.

"Adrian Grant, three years ago I was wrong, I shouldn’t have impulsively found you after drinking! I admit my fault! I’m apologizing to you, I’m regretting it, is that alright?"

"Impulsive?" Adrian’s face darkened, "Eleanor, do you not want to marry me that much?"

"Yes, I don’t!" Eleanor didn’t hesitate, "Given another chance, I absolutely wouldn’t have come to find you that night! I could find any man better than you! At least, I wouldn’t sacrifice my reputation and marriage for a one-night stand!"

What good is marrying him?

Three years haven’t made him like her at all!

Even after three years, he would still choose Mia Winslow over her!

Her wrist injury is just punishment for her unrequited feelings!

Adrian lowered his gaze, meaningfully uttering two words, "Is that so."

He looked at Eleanor again, "Want a divorce? At Grandma’s birthday feast, persuade her yourself."

-

The air carried Eleanor’s faint scent, which disappeared entirely after she left.

The large villa returned to silence.

Adrian seemed to hear his own breathing, yet he clearly felt breathing was a difficult task for him at that moment.

After an unknown period, Adrian was startled awake by the ringing of a call.

"Grandpa." Adrian answered the call.

"Are you angry?"

Old Master Grant had watched Adrian grow up, understanding him deeply, and could sense Adrian’s unusual emotions with just a few words.

Adrian remained silent for two seconds, adjusting his mood, "No."

Old Master Grant didn’t ask further, stating the purpose of his call, "I heard there’s some issue with your relationship with Eleanor."

"Who did you hear it from?"

"It doesn’t matter who I heard it from."

In the world, no walls are completely soundproof, many knew about the song incident at the bar. Although Adrian denied it then, mischievous people spread the news to the Grant Family on purpose.

"Eleanor’s mother passed early, father favors the remarriage, she’s even stayed in a psychiatric hospital, her reputation isn’t great. You’re to be the future head of the Grant Family, logically, no way could she become your wife—"

Old Master Grant’s voice was aged but robust, faintly hinting at the resolute and iron-fisted nature he possessed in his younger days.

"Old Third, don’t forget, three years ago, you personally came to your grandmother and me, and said you only wished to marry Eleanor as your wife!"

"Yes."

Everyone believed that Old Madam Grant had forced Adrian to marry Eleanor back then.

But in reality, Adrian had actively requested the marriage.

"Since that’s the case, don’t let news of divorce spread, upsetting your grandmother!"

"Understood," Adrian said calmly, "Don’t worry Grandpa, I have no intention of divorcing."

"Next week is your grandmother’s birthday, you and Eleanor return to the old house a day early." Old Master Grant paused for a moment, "Also, your mother is back."