The chill In her eyes was like a blade, cutting through everyone in the room.
“Mother, out of respect for you as an elder, I’ve called you ‘Mom‘ one last time If
then you want to take care of any stray, any mutt you can lay hands on, go ahead–but make your son sign those divorce papers as soon as possible.
Dahlia shrank back, unnerved by her glare, momentarily forgetting how to respond.
What had gotten into this little wretch? A few days away and she’d turned into something unrecognizable.
“Oh, and maybe you should ask your precious grandson and darling son why, after all this time, the fever still won’t break?”
Celestine stood before them, arms crossed and chin tilted defiantly. Even with the angry red mark of a slap burning on her cheek, there was not a hint of humiliation or surrender in her posture.
Chester and Raymond traded uneasy glances at her words.
Chester’s eyes turned cold. “That’s enough, Celestine. Watch your mouth.”
He knew what she was getting at, but Raymond was meant to inherit the Fordham family legacy. This wasn’t the time or place for that kind of talk.
Dahlia, sensing her son’s discomfort, played her part to perfection, clutching her chest and wailing, “Chester! Look at the wife you’ve chosen! Divorce her, you must
divorce her!”
Chester steadied Dahlia, his face growing darker with every second.
“Celestine, does it have to be like this?”
He was determined to put an end to this fiasco. His voice was cold, annoyed. “Mother was wrong to hit you, but she’s still your elder. Where’s your usual courtesy, your so–called respect? Must you be so petty, counting every slight?”
Celestine wasn’t surprised. Every single time she’d had a run–in with Dahlia, Chester had always taken his mother’s side. Even when he saw Dahlia strike her, he’d force himself to stay calm and then blame both parties equally.
No, not just equally–he’d always pressure her to swallow her pride and apologize. to Dahlia.
As if on cue, he said, “Apologize to my mother, and let’s be done with this.”
21:12
Celestine stared at him in silence, wondering how she could have been so B six years–constantly giving In, all for a man like this.
Chester bristled under her gaze. “What are you looking at me like that for?
“Your eyes,” Celestine said flatly. “I’m just checking for blindness.
Chester was speechless.
The two children, frightened by the adults‘ argument, stayed silent the entire time.
Raymond tugged at his father’s sleeve. “Dad, can we please go home?”
“Yes, Chester,” Joanna chimed in gently. “This is a private floor. Let’s go downstairs and talk.”
“Right.” Chester snapped out of it, glancing at the tightly closed hospital room door. The Fordham Group had always been rooted in Portside, and their footing in Oceanview City wasn’t as solid as the established local families. The Prescotts were different, though. They’d only moved their business to Oceanview City from overseas a few decades ago, but in just ten years, they’d risen to the top–new money, but now the most prominent among the city’s leading families.
He’d meant to reach out to them during this business expansion, but family drama kept derailing his plans. He needed to find time to talk things over with Celestine, to get her to behave–to go back to the docile woman she used to be. If he gave in a little, that was hardly unreasonable.
“Let’s go.”
Celestine didn’t budge.
The others waited, growing impatient.
Dahlia snapped, “If she won’t leave, she can wait here until security throws her out.”
Then, waving dismissively, she pointed to the food container on the bench. “Take the soup with you.”
That little tramp might not be good for much, but she did make a decent soup.
Chester saw nothing wrong with that. After all, Celestine had made the soup specifically for their son. This was a perfect excuse to let her save face and leave quietly.
He strode forward, reaching for the container–only for Celestine to swat his hand
away.
21:12
Clutching the container to her chest, she glared at him Icily. “Don’t touch it.”
