1 finished feeding Henry, watching as he devoured everything with surprising speed. His injured hand rested carefully on the table. When I habitually be to clear the empty plates, Henry stopped me.
“Leave those,” he said, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “You don’t need to do that. Your only job is to take care of me.”
A team of servants immediately appeared, efficiently clearing the table. They worked silently in the quiet dining room, only the sound of dishes and silverware clinking could be heard. They nodded respectfully, then disappeared as quickly as they had appeared
I stood up, eager to escape the strange tension that had settled between us. I should check on Billy-”
“Stay,” Henry commanded, his tone making it clear this wasn’t a request.
I crossed my arms defensively. “I bandaged your hand. I fed you dinner. What more do you want? Haven’t I done enough?”
Without warning, Henry reached out and pulled me onto his lap, his palm pressing firmly against my waist, forcing me to stay still. This sudden intimacy made my heart race despite myself.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m not going to eat you.”
His hands felt like steel clamps around my waist, making escape difficult. I could feel the warmth of his body through my clothes, the familiar sensation sending involuntary shivers down my spine. Henry studied my face with interest, seemingly enjoying my current discomfort.
Something had changed in his expression–a new awareness, a curiosity I’d never seen before. He stared at me as if seeing me for the first time.
‘I’ve realized something,” he said quietly. “As your husband, I’ve never really paid attention to your life. I don’t know what you do when I’m not around, what you enjoy, what troubles you.” His voice carried an urgent quality.
“I suddenly want to know everything about you.”
The unexpected sincerity in his words caught me off guard. I struggled to maintain my composure, trying to ignore my racing heart.
“You’re holding me so intimately,” I said, attempting to break the tension. Isabella will be jealous.”
I expected the mention of Isabella to make him release me immediately. To my surprise, Henry showed no reaction at all, his grip remaining firm around my
waist.
“Does it bother you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving my face. “Isabella, I mean.”
I fell silent, unsure how to answer. In Henry’s eyes, my silence seemed like confirmation.
“Why are you so petty, Sophia?” he sighed, his breath warm against my cheek. “Isabella is just a patient. She came back for medical treatment. Once she finds a suitable kidney donor and recovers, she’ll leave. Are you really going to be jealous of a sick woman?”
I pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze directly. “Let me ask you something, Henry. If Thomas and I had the same relationship you have with Isabella, would you be so generous? Could you watch us together without feeling anything?”
A muscle twitched in Henry’s jaw, his grip on my waist imperceptibly tightening. “That’s different. Isabella and I aren’t like you and Thomas. Six years ago, I promised to marry her. I failed her. I need to make it up to her.”
His words reopened old wounds I’d desperately tried to heal. Six years ago, when I discovered my pregnancy, I couldn’t accept the reality. I had jumped into the sea, intending to end everything. If Henry hadn’t pulled me from those dark waters, I would have died that day.
desperation,
Henry had not only saved my life but also offered to marry me–providing a home when I was at my lowest. Initially, I had resisted the idea, unable to believe anyone would want me in my situation.
Then Henry’s heart condition had deteriorated, bringing him dangerously close to death. I had stayed by his bedside day and night, refusing to leave until his condition stabilized. It was this dedication that had earned me William and Richard’s gratitude and their desire to make me a Harding bride.
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Chapter 128
But in the midst of all this, Isabella had called Henry, suggesting they rekindle their relationship. Upon receiving her call, Henry had rimediately cafe our wedding plans and distanced himself from me.
For two weeks, he had waited expectantly for Isabella to appear, but after that single phone call, Isabella had vanished completely.
This disappointment had been devastating for Henry. Under pressure from William and Richard, he had finally agreed to marry me.
It was a reluctant decision! A compromise! Only now did I fully understand.
Henry’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me, bitterly asking, “Don’t you already know the answer?”
He glanced away, the resentment in his eyes clearly visible. “How much sweet talk did you feed my grandfather and father? You had them completely wrapped around your finger. They threatened Isabella’s safety to force me into marrying you. If I refused, Isabella would ‘die in a foreign land. What choice did I have but to agree?”
I felt as if I’d been slapped. I knew William had pressured Henry to accept the marriage, but I’d never known Isabella’s personal safety had been used as leverage.
Suddenly, Henry’s years of coldness toward me made sense.
“If you love Isabella so much,” I asked quietly, “why didn’t you agree to the divorce when I signed the papers? Were you afraid your grandfather would threaten Isabella’s safety again?”
Henry remained silent, his eyes revealing nothing as he stared past me into the distance, leaving my question hanging unanswered in the air between us.
Some things, once they begin to emerge from beneath the surface, make you want to dig deeper instinctively.
Even when I knew the result would break my heart into pieces.
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