CHAPTER 121: CHAPTER 121: DON’T REGRET IT

Jean Ellison lay in bed, her sleep shallow as she slipped into another dream, clearly a reflection of her inner struggles.

In the living room of the Caldwell family villa.

Nighttime, brightly lit, yet the atmosphere was heavy and tense.

Claire Caldwell stood nervously in the center of the expensive Persian carpet, twisting the edge of her clothes with her fingers.

In front of her, her father, Timothy Caldwell, sat upright in a rosewood armchair, his expression somber.

Her mother, Susan Kingston, sat on the sofa beside her, her gaze worriedly shifting between her husband and daughter.

"Dad," Claire’s voice carried a barely noticeable tremor, but she tried to maintain her composure, "I’ve thought it over carefully, I want to be with Justin."

Timothy Caldwell slowly set down the small purple clay teapot he had been rubbing, making a slight clinking sound.

He lifted his eyes, his sharp gaze piercing into his daughter’s soul.

"No." His voice was not loud, but carried a tone of undeniable authority, clear in the otherwise silent living room.

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, trying to sound more patient, but losing none of his firmness.

"Claire, your father isn’t blind. Justin Holden, that young man is indeed outstanding, exceptionally capable, with limitless potential."

His tone shifted, his eyes growing deeper.

"But it’s precisely because he’s too outstanding, too deep-minded, and too cold and unyielding in character. Such a person is not a suitable match. My daughter, raised in wealth and privilege, is more than worthy of a real prince. Why choose someone so elusive? Being with him, you’ll surely face grievances in the future."

Susan Kingston, seeing the situation, quickly leaned forward, gently patting her husband’s arm, her tone softening the tension.

"Timothy, don’t rush to a decision. In my opinion, Justin is truly quite remarkable."

She turned to her daughter, her gaze encouraging, listing off, "Look at him, academically exceptional, top of the law school year after year, winning awards consistently. He is remarkably handsome amongst thousands."

She paused, looking at her husband, her tone becoming more earnest.

"Most importantly, his private life is clean, with no rumors of any messy affairs, much better than many entitled young men today. Plus, he is extremely ambitious, with his mentors, including Elder Lewis, constantly praising him, saying he’ll achieve great things. Young men like him are indeed rare."

Claire, hearing her mother speak in her favor, nodded vigorously, hope lighting up her eyes, eagerly agreeing.

"Mom’s right. Dad, Justin is truly extraordinary. He’s not only outstanding but also attentive and respectful to me. I really like him and want a future with him. Dad, please, can you say yes to us?"

She looked hopefully at her father, her eyes full of pleading and expectation.

However, Timothy Caldwell still shook his head slowly, his expression unyielding, growing heavier due to the unified stance of his wife and daughter.

His tone intensified, carrying the decision of a family head.

"No. There’s no room for discussion on this matter. Never mind his ordinary family background, which doesn’t match ours; there are too many uncertainties about the future. But just his nature alone, I can’t trust you to him. I disagree."

The final four words were firm, completely blocking any path forward.

Jean watched her father’s unyielding face, her eyes instantly red with tears welling up rapidly.

She bit her lower lip, her body trembling slightly with excitement and disappointment.

Suddenly, as if making some kind of resolution,

she took a step forward and, without a care, sank to her knees on the cold, hard marble floor with a thud.

This sudden action greatly startled both Timothy and Susan.

"Claire, what are you doing? Get up!"

Susan gasped, abruptly standing from the sofa, rushing forward to help her daughter.

Timothy also stood up with a start, his face turning livid, as he scolded her.

"Nonsense! Get up! Kneeling on the ground like that, what does it look like? When have I ever needed my daughter, Claire Caldwell, to demean herself in such a manner?"

But Jean stubbornly remained kneeling, avoiding her mother’s supportive hand.

She lifted her head, tears finally unable to be held back, rolling down her pale cheeks.

But her eyes were exceptionally bright, determined, even carrying a do-or-die resolve.

Facing her shocked and angry parents, her voice was choked with emotion, yet each word was clear and resounding.

"Dad, Mom, I’m not acting impulsively. Today, I want you to understand that I’ve chosen Justin Holden for life—I won’t marry anyone else but him. If you don’t agree, I’ll keep kneeling here."

With that, she bowed deeply towards her parents,

her forehead hitting the polished floor with a startling thud.

"You!"

Timothy Caldwell’s hand shook with anger, but seeing his daughter’s resolute demeanor, especially the red mark quickly appearing on her forehead, he couldn’t bring himself to utter harsher words.

Susan Kingston, already heartbroken, crouched down to pull her daughter up, her voice choked with emotion.

"Silly girl, please get up. Can’t we discuss things properly? Do you have to force your father this way? Don’t your knees hurt? Your forehead is all red."

Jean, half-pulled and half-embraced by her mother, still refused to stand fully, stubbornly sitting on her knees, tearful eyes looking at her father, repeating: "Please, Dad, grant my wish."

Timothy Caldwell stood in place, his chest heaving several times.

He looked into his daughter’s tear-filled yet persistent eyes, at her slightly red forehead, and then to his wife, who stood by worried and pained.

The living room was silent, except for Susan’s low consolations and Jean’s muted sobs.

Finally, as if drained of all strength, Timothy Caldwell let out an extremely tired sigh, his voice filled with helplessness and concession: "Alright, alright, a grown-up daughter really can’t be kept at home."

He waved a weary hand, turning away, no longer looking at his daughter.

"Get up. Tomorrow, I’ll personally visit the Holden family to meet his parents and discuss your matter."

Hearing this, Jean’s head shot up, her face still streaked with tears, her eyes suddenly bursting with an unbelievable, brilliant sparkle, almost lighting up the room.

"Really? Thank you, Dad!"

She was nearly crying with joy, finally standing up with her mother’s help.

Susan gently dusted off her knees, though there was no dust, lightly scolding her.

"You silly child, was it really necessary? Look how upset you made your dad."

Timothy Caldwell, with his back to them, looked out at the deep, enveloping night, his deep voice cutting through the silence, carrying an unnoticeable trace of worry.

"Claire, I hope you won’t regret today’s decision in the future."

Sleeping on the king-sized master bed, even in her dreams, Jean’s lips unconsciously curled into a faint arc, as if still submerged in the hard-won joy of that year.

Yet that slightest hint of a smile quickly faded like mist blown away by the wind, vanishing from her lips.

Her brow knitted tightly again, bearing an inescapable heaviness, even in sleep.

The "happiness" her father had reluctantly agreed to had long been shattered beyond recognition in the turbulence of time and the whims of fate.