Chapter 70
“How could this be? Where d Henty put it?”
n the hallway of Manhattan General Hospital, Henry stood out de his grandfather’s room, a half–smoked cigarette dangling from his fingers, despite the hospital’s strict no–smoking policy.
With each deep drag, the ember glowed, illuminating the hardanes of his face in the dimly lit corridor.
His mind replayed Sophia’s earlier words: “What I needed was your protection years ago!”
Had he really been blind to what was happening?
Had his mother and sister truly made Sophia’s life so miserable without his knowledge?
Through the window, he could see the city spread out below–millions of lights twinkling in the darkness. Somewhere amid those lights, ordinary people were returning home, embracing their loved ones.
Henry felt a hollowness expanding in his chest. Tonight his own home would be dark. No warm light in the kitchen. No Sophia waiting with that smile she once had–a smile he had successfully extinguished with years of indifference.
“If you’ve come to visit, then come in,” William’s voice called from inside the room, interrupting Henry’s thoughts.
Henry crushed the cigarette beneath his heel and straightened his shoulders before entering.
A nurse was just leaving, carrying an empty food container. Henry took it from her hands, examining the contents–a small thermos and several tiny containers.
“What’s this?” he asked, recognizing Sophia’s careful preparation.
William adjusted himself on the bed. “Sophia’s soup. She makes it herself. This is the most comfortable meal I’ve had in
months.”
Henry opened one of the containers, frowning at the thin, plain soup inside. “This is what she brings you? This… bland mush? Grandfather, I could have the chef prepare something more substantial-”
William’s weathered hand gestured for him to stop. With a sigh, the old man opened his mouth, revealing scattered remaining teeth and empty gaps.
Henry felt immediate shame wash over him.
How had he not noticed his grandfather’s deterioration?
“Do you see?” William asked quietly. “Could I chew the substantial meals you’re suggesting?”
“I… didn’t realize,” Henry admitted.
“Of course you didn’t,” William said, not unkindly. “You always stay on the surface.” He adjusted his position, wincing slightly. “That wife of yours–she notices. Brings me food I can actually eat. Sits and talks with me about things other than business.”
Henry’s jaw tightened. “She always knows how to win your favor”
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Chapter 70
William’s laugh turned into hacking cough. “You fool,” he said when he could speak again. You have a jewel in your house and treat her like glass. How many women would care for an old man who’s not even their blood relative?
I’m your blood relative,” Henty protested. “Your grandson.”
When was the last time you sat quietly with me for a conversation? William challenged. “I don’t mean the kind where you’re making business calls and barely acknowledging me! Not the kind of visit where you’ve timed your departure from the moment you arrived.”
Henry had no answer.
“You’re blind, boy,” William continued, his voice softening with fatigue. “Blind to the treasure right in front of you.”
Henry left his grandfather’s room with those words echoing in s mind. He drove to his office, hoping work would distract him from the uncomfortable thoughts circling in his head.
Hours later, papers still scattered across his desk, Henry realized it was past midnight. The office had emptied hours ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts–and they all led back to Sophia.
When he finally arrived home, the estate was dark except for a single light glowing from the direction of Sophia’s room. His heart jumped unexpectedly in his chest.
She’s home.
He tried to suppress the surge of… something… that rose within him. Relief? Anticipation? Whatever it was, he wouldn’t acknowledge it. Henry straightened his tie, entering the house with measured steps, prepared to act as if her presence meant nothing to him.
But the light in her window continued to draw his gaze, like a moth to flame.
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