CHAPTER 167: CHAPTER 167: ARE YOU LEAVING ME TOO

"Eleanor... even you want to leave me?" Nathaniel Gallagher paced anxiously back and forth.

Staring at the wedding photo hanging in the living room.

His heart ached even more severely.

More than Josephine Thompson, he was more worried about Eleanor Churchill.

After all, she was currently immobile and so frail.

Moreover, she had so many enemies from the past.

If she were targeted by criminals, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"Have you found anything? Any leads?"

"President Gallagher, not yet."

"Keep digging! Dig until you can’t anymore!" He shouted into the phone, the fury in his voice nearly shattering the receiver, "Find out where she was last seen, check her flight records, train information, even taxi surveillance, I want it all!"

"Understood, President Gallagher, we are tracking her phone with full force," the assistant responded repeatedly, urging the hackers to speed up.

Nathaniel Gallagher hung up the phone, tossing it onto the sofa.

"Bang!"

The leather sofa made a muffled sound, much like the suppressed groan stuck in his throat at the moment.

...

Ten minutes later.

Andy called immediately.

"President Gallagher, through the phone locator, we have pinpointed Madam’s last known location."

Nathaniel Gallagher’s whole body tensed, "Where is it?"

Andy: "In Oxtail Village."

Nathaniel Gallagher frowned, "Oxtail Village?"

"Yes."

Nathaniel’s heart was in turmoil, why would she go there?

Oxtail Village was Audenburg’s slum area.

Home to the poorest of residents and all sorts of drifters.

"Prepare the car immediately, we’re going to Oxtail Village."

"Yes, President Gallagher."

The driver and bodyguards didn’t dare delay, as more than ten luxury cars set off towards Oxtail Village.

Forty minutes later.

When Nathaniel Gallagher’s car stopped at the bumpy alley entrance, the chassis almost scraped the ground.

The bodyguard got out of the car in a hurry to open the door for him.

Another bodyguard quickly went to hold an umbrella for him.

The sky was drizzling steadily, the ground muddy and filthy.

"Be careful, President Gallagher."

He pushed the car door open, his brow furrowed even tighter.

Though he wasn’t a germaphobe.

Faced with the sudden expanse of mud, mixed with animal feces.

He found it hard to step forward.

"President Gallagher, perhaps you should wait in the car, and we’ll go find Madam."

"No need."

Deeply worried about Eleanor Churchill, Nathaniel forced himself to step on the muddy ground, walking towards the alley.

The expensive, glossy crocodile leather shoes quickly became covered with mud, clashing with the shabby tin houses around.

The assistant said Eleanor was here volunteering, taking care of a group of orphans.

Initially, he didn’t believe it.

How could someone so ruthless and unscrupulous like Eleanor end up in a place like this?

"This way, President Gallagher!"

He continued walking into the alley.

After about five or six minutes.

Ahead was a dilapidated village ancestral hall.

It used to be an ancestral hall but had been transformed into a community service center.

Many helpless elderly and orphans lived here.

"Madam should be inside."

Nathaniel scanned it quickly, his expression complicated.

He stepped into the hall.

As soon as he entered.

He saw Eleanor Churchill wearing a faded old sweatshirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, bending over to tie a shoelace for a limping little boy.

"Thank you, Auntie."

"You’re welcome."

At that moment.

Eleanor’s face was calm and gentle, no one would guess she was once a feared big sister in Audenburg.

"...Eleanor." Seeing she was alright, Nathaniel breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Hearing the voice.

Eleanor looked up.

The smile on her face faded, leaving only calmness, like a frozen lake surface.

Nathaniel’s breath hitched, quickened his steps towards her, "Eleanor, why did you come here without a word? Do you know how worried I was!"

Upon hearing this, Eleanor couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh.

If he really worried about her.

He wouldn’t have waited until the fourth day to look for her.

However, she was used to his habitual lying.

"Why are you here?"

Nathaniel swallowed hard, a bitterness in his eyes, "Come back with me."

"Go back to where?"

Eleanor smiled, but the smile carried a chill of disappointment, "The Rose Garden? Or that ’home’ which is only nominal without warmth?"

"Eleanor, stop being difficult." Nathaniel tried to soften his tone to coax her.

He was the best at coaxing.

And pretending to be affectionate.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have captured Eleanor’s heart back then.

"Eleanor, I was wrong before, neglecting your feelings. Come back with me, I will... make it up to you."

Eleanor gave a cold smile, interrupting him, her voice clear and firm, "Let’s get divorced."

Those five words, like ice, struck hard at Nathaniel’s heart.

He froze, then a wave of provoked anger surged, "What did you say? Did I hear you wrong? We just got married, and now you want a divorce."

"Ha~ even you want to leave me, huh?"

Hearing this, Eleanor’s heart ached even more.

Meeting his gaze, her eyes were desolate and mocking, "You think I’m incapable of leaving you, don’t you?"

"You know I love you too much, know I’ll tolerate you without limits, know I’ll forgive all your mistakes."

"So, you recklessly trample over my love. Time and again, breaking my heart into pieces."

"..." Nathaniel stopped breathing, staring at her as if struck by lightning.

Eleanor sneered slightly again, looking deeply at his handsome face.

"I know, in your heart, you’ve never respected me. I’ve just been a pawn for you, and now, I have no use for you anymore."

"Why pretend to love me? You know, even if you turn your back on me, I can’t do anything to you!"

"So, stop pretending. You don’t have to pity me, nor continue to fake your love for me."

"I, Eleanor Churchill... can pick up and put down. Rest assured, I won’t pester you, nor will I retaliate against you. I’m just tired and don’t want to see your deceitful face anymore."

"..." Nathaniel felt his scalp tingle, like alarm bells ringing relentlessly over his head.

"Now, you’ve achieved success, reached great heights, become unreachable. You truly deserve a wife as elegant and beautiful as Miss Thompson by your side."

"So, go away! I don’t need you to do anything for me anymore, nor do I need your charity of false love! I find it disgusting, I’d rather have none!"

Nathaniel Gallagher took a sharp breath, guilt washing over him in freezing waves, "Eleanor, it’s not like that, it’s not like that."

"You have always been the one I love most, I can’t live without you..."

He stepped forward, wanting to embrace her.

Eleanor Churchill laughed mockingly, retreating shakily, refusing to make contact with him.

Now, she had completely seen through his heart.

She no longer wanted to deceive herself.

She had always believed.

Love doesn’t disappear, it just shifts.

His love for her had already shifted to Josephine Thompson.

One is old and crippled, the other young and beautiful.

One is weathered, the other noble and elegant.

One from a humble background, the other from a noble family.

If she were a man, she would surely choose the latter without hesitation herself.

"Eleanor, I... I’m really not what you think!" Nathaniel stammered, trying to explain.

But unfortunately...

He didn’t even know what to say.

He had genuinely forgotten.

At fifteen or sixteen, he was just a young boy.

Back then, his father was gravely ill.

He had no choice but to replace his father in attending business meetings.

Yet, everyone dismissed him as a mere child, even openly revealing their sinister claws, waiting for his father to die to seize the Gallagher Family’s wealth.

When he was being harassed by several elder uncles.

It was Eleanor Churchill who stepped forward, sarcastically ridiculing them, and even called for her men to give them a hard blow.

At the time, he genuinely thought this sister was extraordinarily bold and fearless, he absolutely adored her.

At twenty, Eleanor Churchill had already made a name for herself in the community, and had the backing of the strongest group at the time.

Back then, many wanted to win her over, wanted her allegiance.

However.

Nathaniel, leveraging his connection with Mrs. Dixon, successfully won her over.

At sixteen, he confessed to her!

She laughed at him as a little kid, telling him to get lost!

Even then, he was mature and scheming. He already understood that if he wanted a woman to willingly work for him, he could only control her emotionally.

Thus, he pursued her at all costs.

At seventeen, youth was at its peak.

He finally moved her.

He also thought, other than her, he couldn’t possibly love another woman in his life.

Unfortunately.

Destiny has other plans.

"Eleanor, don’t be like this, I really know my mistake, give me one last chance."

Nathaniel watched Eleanor’s retreating action, like he’d been hit by an invisible wall, the dull pain spreading in his chest.

"No, I’ve given you too many chances. Don’t deceive yourself anymore, don’t disgust me again."

"Eleanor, you forgot..." His voice turned hoarse, fingertips slightly trembling, "That year, to help me reclaim the dock’s control, you were slashed three times and bedridden for half a month? You said, as long as I need, you’ll always be there."

Eleanor’s face was less mocking, replaced by a tired melancholy.

"Yes, I said that. But at that time, you would keep me in your heart. You’d stay by the bedside when I was injured, remember I don’t eat scallions and ginger, and because I looked a bit longer at the necklace in the window, you’d buy the entire shop to give to me."

She looked up at him, eyes hooded with a layer of mist, "But now? Nathaniel, your heart is with Miss Thompson."

Nathaniel opened his mouth, unable to utter a word.

Those small details, buried in business calculations and his obsession with Josephine Thompson, had long blurred.

Eleanor smiled, tears slipping down her cheeks, "You only remember Miss Thompson likes white roses, remember she’s afraid of the dark, remember all her little habits. In your heart, I’ve long become a dispensable shadow."

"It’s not like that!"

Nathaniel stepped forward despite her evasions, forcibly grasping her wrist.

Her wrist was slender, through the rough sweatshirt fabric, he could feel the outline of the bone.

"I’m just... just blinded by foolishness. Eleanor, give me another chance, please?"

His voice held a pleading tone, "I’ll completely forget Josephine Thompson, I’ll focus all my thoughts on you. We’ll return to The Rose Garden, I’ll hire the best doctors to take care of your health, I’ll accompany you in whatever you want to do, even if it’s doing voluntary work here, I’ll be with you."

Eleanor tried to break free, but her wrist was gripped even tighter.

"Let go, Nathaniel." Her voice was light, but held undeniable determination, "There’s no going back for us."

"We can go back!"

Nathaniel quickly pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head, his voice trembling with fear, "I can’t be without you. Josephine Thompson is gone, if you leave too, I’ll truly have nothing."

For the first time, he discovered that those so-called power and wealth, in the empty villa, in front of the cold marriage certificate, were utterly worthless.

What he truly feared.

Was that the person who had accompanied him since youth would also vanish into the crowd.

He depended on her, both psychologically and emotionally.

One could say...

He could lose Josephine Thompson but couldn’t lose Eleanor Churchill.

Over the years, she had become his spiritual pillar, elevated from love to kinship.

Eleanor leaned into his embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of cedar from him, and finally couldn’t hold back her tears.

"I’m tired, really tired, let go of me," she said.

Nathaniel held her tighter, as if wanting to merge her into his bones.

"I know. But give me a chance, let me atone." He looked down at her pale face, uttered each word earnestly, "Come back to The Rose Garden with me. If you still want a divorce, once you’re healthier, I’ll sign. But now, I can’t leave you alone here."

The rain continued to fall.

The children in the temple looked at them curiously.

Eleanor closed her eyes, feeling the warmth in his embrace, a warmth she had longed for countless times.

Nathaniel’s tense body relaxed instantly; he carefully helped her up, took off his suit jacket, and placed it gently on her, his movements delicate as if handling fragile treasure.

"Let’s go home," he said.

He bent down to carry her in his arms, carrying her out of the temple.

As the car left Oxtail Village, the rain gradually stopped.

Eleanor leaned against the passenger seat, turning to look at the retreating ramshackle houses outside the window, her gaze vacant.

Nathaniel tightened his grip on the steering wheel, several times wanting to speak, but was silenced by her serene aura.

...

Back at The Rose Garden.

The servants had already prepared hot water and meals.

Nathaniel personally helped her out of the car, removing her shoes, only to see the muddy spots on her socks, his heart feeling pricked.

"Take a bath first, I had the kitchen make your favorite pigeon soup," he said softly, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Eleanor said nothing, heading straight to the bathroom.

When she emerged in soft pajamas.

Nathaniel sat on the living room sofa, holding a box of medicine, the prescription for her post-surgery recovery.

"It’s time for your medication." He handed her the water and pills, his actions somewhat clumsy but very earnest.

Eleanor took them, swallowing them without looking at him.

At dinner.

Nathaniel kept serving her dishes, focusing on what she used to like.

Steamed fish without bones, peeled shrimp, even carefully picking out the ginger slices from the soup.

These details he hadn’t attended to in many years.

Eleanor ate silently, neither refusing nor expressing gratitude.

"Tonight... let’s consider it our official wedding night, from now on, I’ll never leave you again."