Chapter 170: Chapter 168: He’s Always the Man Who Moves My Heart (8)
At that moment, Chloe Marshall understood Nora Ainsworth’s heart.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love Quentin Grant. Perhaps she did this precisely because she loved him too much.
Her phone rang. Chloe Marshall glanced at the caller ID—it was Ethan Ellsworth. She didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up, put the slip of paper in her pocket, and went into the bathroom to wash her face.
She put on her hat, grabbed her bag, and went downstairs.
As she exited the building, she saw Ethan Ellsworth’s car still parked in the distance in front of Jean Grant’s villa.
Under a streetlight, Ethan Ellsworth was leaning against the hood of the car, his expression cold.
Chloe Marshall opened the back door and got right in. Ethan Ellsworth got in as well.
"Why didn’t you answer my call?"
Chloe Marshall lay down on the back seat and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to talk. ’Sometimes, when you have no standing, it’s best to say nothing at all.’
Ethan Ellsworth glanced at the rearview mirror and saw her curled up on the back seat. ’What on earth is wrong with her?’ he wondered, confused.
The car pulled up to the entrance of the Film City Hotel.
"Get out, moron."
—No response.—
Ethan Ellsworth had no choice but to get out, open the back door, and call her name again. Only then did she sit up.
"Were you dead to the world?"
"Mm." She got out and closed the car door.
Usually, she would trail behind Ethan Ellsworth, but this time she walked into the hotel lobby ahead of him.
Ethan Ellsworth locked the car and watched her go. ’Something’s off about her,’ he thought.
He quickened his pace to catch up, and they entered the elevator together. He reached out to take off her hat, but Chloe Marshall dodged. "Boss Ellsworth, please, show some respect."
Ethan Ellsworth’s hand froze in mid-air. "What’s wrong with you?"
Chloe Marshall shook her head. "It’s nothing. I’m just tired."
With a swift move, Ethan Ellsworth successfully snatched her hat off. He got a clear look at her face and saw the sadness in her tear-filled eyes.
He froze. "What are you crying about?"
Chloe Marshall didn’t say a word.
He pressed, "I’m asking you, what are you crying for?"
Chloe Marshall stared straight ahead. "I don’t know why I’m crying," she said. "I just feel like I’m nothing to you."
Ethan Ellsworth’s eyes narrowed, and then he chuckled. "What do you mean? You’re my moronic little assistant."
Chloe Marshall fell silent. She understood his meaning perfectly.
As soon as they arrived on their floor, Ethan Ellsworth said, "Unpack my suitcase and put the clothes in the closet. I’m going to take a shower."
Chloe Marshall opened the suitcase. He took off his jacket, laid it on the bed, and went into the bathroom with a bathrobe.
She had just hung up two articles of clothing when the phone in his suit jacket chimed.
Chloe Marshall’s hands paused. ’I know I shouldn’t look,’ she thought, but she looked anyway.
It was from Jean Grant. The message was short: "The one-year agreement. You have to honor it."
Chloe Marshall instantly understood what they had been discussing tonight.
Tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks before she even realized it.
Phone in hand, she walked to the bathroom door. "Boss Ellsworth, you got a text."
"Bring it here," Ethan Ellsworth’s voice came from inside.
Chloe Marshall pushed the door open a crack and held out the hand with the phone.
His fingertips brushed lightly against her palm as he took the phone.
Chloe Marshall pulled her hand back. She had just turned to go back to hanging the clothes when his voice came from the bathroom again. "In the future, don’t read my texts without permission." The warning in his tone was unmistakable.
"Okay."
She quickly finished hanging the clothes and left Ethan Ellsworth’s room.
Standing in the hallway, Chloe Marshall leaned against the wall, a dull ache spreading through her chest.
Wiping away her tears, she returned to her room next door.
She lay down on the bed and took out the medical report.
’Clearly, this isn’t the complete report, just a part of it.’ Chloe Marshall couldn’t imagine how desperate Nora Ainsworth must have felt upon learning the results, but she believed Nora had done the right thing.
Staring at the report, Chloe Marshall got out of bed, took out a lighter, and burned it to ashes.
Afterward, she lay back down on the bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.
When Jean Grant got home, Marlon Marshall was already there. Mrs. Marshall was sitting in the living room, cracking sunflower seeds and watching TV.
Seeing her return, she asked, "Where have you been, coming home in the dead of night?"
"I don’t need to report to you. You lose thousands every time you play mahjong. At this rate, I doubt that five million will last you more than a few days. For someone who claims to be so frugal, you’re incredibly wasteful. Don’t you think you’re contradicting yourself?"
Mrs. Marshall glared at her, then turned to Marlon with a wounded expression. "Son, did you hear your wife’s tone? Your mother was just bored this afternoon and played a little mahjong with some friends to pass the time, and this is how she talks to me."
Marlon stood up. "Jean, where were you?"
"I was out shopping with Zoe."
"Shopping until this late?"
Jean Grant nodded.
She went upstairs, and Marlon followed.
The moment the bedroom door closed, Marlon said, "From now on, just let Mom say whatever she wants. Let her do what she likes. If she wants to play mahjong, let her play. She’s never had an easy life. Now that she’s old, can’t you just let her have a little fun?"
Jean Grant looked at him. "Marlon, tell me, why does your mother have to be so cruel?"
"I already told you, she has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. She’s our elder, so don’t stoop to her level." He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Ever since we started sharing a bed, Jean, all I want to do is be with you every day."
"Go take a shower."
"Okay." Marlon stripped off his clothes and went into the bathroom.
Jean Grant sat on the edge of the bed and sent a text to Ethan Ellsworth. She then deleted the message from her sent folder and set her phone’s notifications to silent.
A little while later, his reply came. It was just a single word: "Okay."
After deleting his reply as well, Jean Grant set a passcode on her phone.
Only then did she place it on the nightstand and take off her shoes.
Thinking about the one-year agreement, Jean Grant felt that a year was a long time. ’Should I tell him tonight?’ She was conflicted.
After she had been thinking for a while, Marlon came out of the bathroom without even a towel wrapped around his waist.
Even though they had been husband and wife for a while, the sight of him still made Jean Grant feel a little shy.
’If only Mrs. Marshall wasn’t in the picture, how perfect things would be.’
"Marlon, can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"If only one of us could live, me or your mother, who would you save?"
Marlon frowned. "That’s such a childish question. What made you think to ask something like that?"
"Just answer me. I want to know."
Marlon thought for a moment before finally answering, "My mom, of course. I think any man would say the same. After all, you only get one mother, and she’s the one who raised you. Anyone who isn’t filial gets condemned by society. My mom had a really hard time raising me. If I chose you, it would break her heart."
Jean Grant looked at him. "And you’re not afraid of breaking my heart?"
Marlon said, "Jean, I know you love me. You wouldn’t have married me otherwise."
Jean Grant lowered her head. "So you’re not afraid that I might divorce you one day?"
"Jean, are you saying you would actually divorce me one day?" he asked, his disbelief obvious.
