“Alright, I’m just an old man now–I can’t be much help to you all anymore.”
“Celly has always been the child I’ve cherished most. Back then, she gave up over a decade of hard work in art and design just to marry you, to take care of Celia Raymond.”
Luther rambled on, his tone both gentle and firm.
“She’s grown up now. It’s time to let her go and live her own life. Don’t push her too hard. If anything happens to my granddaughter, you come to me–I’ll take the blame for her.”
He squeezed Celestine’s hand, his smile warm and kind.
Tears streamed down Celestine’s face.
Her heart twisted painfully at her grandfather’s words.
He was a master of his craft, one of the last great old artists, never one to bow his head lightly. Yet for her, at his age, he still worried himself sick.
He’d said so much, but all of it was because he was afraid she wouldn’t be happy–afraid the Fordhams would bully her.
“Silly girl, what are you crying for? Look at you–so pitiful. With your husband right here, who would dare pick on you?” Luther pulled out a tissue and handed it to his beloved granddaughter.
Celestine sobbed even harder.
Chester sat quietly on the other side, never intruding on the moment between grandfather and granddaughter.
Now wasn’t the time.
The family finished lunch together.
Afterward, Murdock, clearly out of his element, excused himself without delay.
Luther had someone help/move the paintings into Celestine’s car.
He noticed the couple had each driven their own car, but pretended not to see.
In the dining room, Celestine neatly arranged the pastries she’d brought from Southern Cross Patisserie for her grandfather.
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Chapter 136
She gave the housekeeper strict instructions to serve them in moderation–never
too many at once.
Chester watched her fuss over these details, and for a moment, was blindsided by memories of her back at their home.
She used to look after him and the kids just like this–gentle, attentive, thoughtful.
Why hadn’t he ever noticed how caring she was before?
Luther’s words today weren’t lost on him; there was a warning hidden in his concern.
Chester had never truly intended to let Celestine go–not really.
With Luther still around, Celestine wouldn’t want to break her grandfather’s heart. There was still a chance.
“Celly.”
A shiver ran up Celestine’s spine.
Chester had always called her by her full name–never this tender nickname. Whenever he did, it was never for anything good.
She looked up, her face blank. “Go on, what favor do you want now–for your precious Joanna?”
Chester’s rare gentleness vanished in an instant. “Celestine, you shouldn’t be so prejudiced against Joanna. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
There it was–back to form.
Celestine lifted her gaze, a cold smile tugging at her lips. “I never even said who your precious is. Yet look at you–blurting out her name. Isn’t that proof enough? Chester, why do you always make me spell it out? Even if you and Joanna never slept together, emotional cheating is still cheating. It’s disgusting.”
She enunciated every word, stabbing straight at the one thing Chester cared about most–his pride.
Did he really think just because he came here and hymbled himself to her grandfather, she’d soften?
No. It only made her more determined to divorce him.
This man would never let go of Joanna.
Speak of the devil–right on cue, Chester’s phone rang in the middle of their
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standoff.
“What? You’re hurt? Joanna, don’t panic, just get to the hospital. I’ll be there right away.”
After the call, he saw the look on Celestine’s face, that bitter, unsurprised sneer. It made his blood boil.
“Joanna’s been hurt. As a friend, I have to go check on her!”
Celestine smirked. “Next time, you should get a medical license. That way, your Joanna will have an even better excuse to call Dr. Fordham over.”
Still in the Selwyn household, Chester didn’t want to argue with her.
He shot back coldly, “Do as you please,” and walked out.
The moment he left, the air felt lighter, as if a storm had finally passed.
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