Chapter 57: Chapter 57: Where Is Your Coldness? Where Is Your Ruthlessness?
###Chapter 57: Where’s Your Coldness? Where’s Your Cruelty?
Maxine Rhodes was a little embarrassed by the older woman’s direct yet adorable praise. "Aunt Sinclair," she said honestly, "I’m very happy to have met you too. But... I’m already married."
"Married?"
Claire Sinclair’s eyes flew wide, the light in her face visibly dimming. Utterly crestfallen, she exclaimed, "Oh, my! Who... who’s the lucky man? He certainly acted fast!"
She couldn’t help but lament internally: ’It’s over. Why couldn’t such a wonderful girl be part of my family! It’s all that good-for-nothing son of mine’s fault!’
Maxine thought of Ethan Hawthorne, and her expression softened unconsciously. However, since they were still in a contract marriage, it wasn’t appropriate for her to say much. She just gave a faint smile. "He’s... a good person."
But Claire Sinclair was a perceptive woman. She caught Maxine’s momentary hesitation and her reluctance to elaborate.
A subtle suspicion immediately arose in her heart. ’When this girl talks about her husband, why doesn’t she radiate that intense sense of happiness? And she’s not wearing a wedding ring, nor has she ever brought up her husband on her own.’
’Could it be... that there’s a hidden story behind this marriage?’
This thought was like a tiny spark, instantly reigniting the hope in her heart, which had been on the verge of despair.
Her spirits lifted, and in a tone that was half-joking and half-serious, her eyes sparkling, she said, "Alas, it seems my foolish boy just isn’t lucky enough. He was too slow!"
"But Maxine, let me just put this out there: my door will always be open for you! If... and I’m just saying ’if,’ mind you... if you ever have any new thoughts or options in your love life in the future, you absolutely must consider my son first, okay? Let him be the top candidate on the waiting list!"
Maxine couldn’t help but laugh at Claire Sinclair’s persistence. Treating it as a joke from an overly endearing elder, she played along, nodding with a smile. "Alright, Aunt Sinclair, I’ll remember that. Your son is truly lucky to have a mother like you."
"Of course!" Claire Sinclair lifted her chin smugly, the gears in her mind turning furiously. ’As long as you swing your hoe well enough, there’s no corner you can’t poach!’
The afterglow of the sunset coated the art museum’s white steps in a warm, golden layer as the crowds of visitors gradually dispersed.
Still wanting more, Claire Sinclair held Maxine’s hand. "Maxine, today has honestly been my happiest day in months. If there are any good exhibitions in the future, let’s go see them together, okay?"
"Of course, Aunt Sinclair. I’ve learned so much from our conversation," Maxine said sincerely. She too enjoyed the warmth from this wise and witty woman.
"It’s a deal, then!" Claire Sinclair got into her waiting car, rolled down the window, and didn’t forget to remind her one last time, "Remember what I told you!"
Maxine stood by the roadside, smiling and waving until the car merged into traffic. She let out a soft sigh, her heart filled with the warmth of being genuinely cherished by an elder.
It had been a long time since she’d felt this way.
Meanwhile, in a private room at an elegant restaurant, Ethan Hawthorne, Noah Sutton, and Elias Grant—who had just returned from abroad—were sitting across from each other, having a meal.
Noah Sutton chugged a mouthful of wine and began his performance, launching into a dramatic accusation directed at Ethan. "I’m telling you, Hawthorne, has your mom got something against me lately? I went to your company the other day, and the way she looked at me... it was like she was looking at a homewrecking vixen trying to seduce her precious son! Tell me, am I being wronged or what?!"
Ethan Hawthorne methodically cut his steak, not bothering to grace him with a response.
Sitting to the side, Elias Grant, who had been eating quietly, lifted his gaze from behind his gold-rimmed glasses. He gave Noah a cool glance and delivered a precise finishing blow. "Aunt Sinclair has always been an excellent judge of character."
Noah was so taken aback he almost jumped up. "Elias! What’s that supposed to mean? I’m an upstanding, wholesome young man!"
Elias raised his wine glass, his tone utterly placid. "It means you do bear a striking resemblance."
"You..." Noah, fuming, pointed at Elias before turning to Ethan. "Look at him! A few years abroad and his tongue has gotten even more venomous!"
The corner of Ethan’s mouth twitched upward almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t comment.
Not one to give up, Noah circled back to the topic, lowering his voice to speak to Ethan. "Seriously though, when are you going to come clean with your mom? The way she’s been so suspicious lately, it’s like she’s becoming obsessed. You should hurry up and bring your wife home to make an appearance and set the record straight!"
Ethan put down his knife and fork, his gaze deep. "It’s not time yet."
Just then, his phone screen lit up with a message from Maxine: "The art exhibition is over. It was beautiful. I’m heading home now."
Ethan’s expression softened almost instantly. He quickly replied, "I’ll come pick you up. I’m close by."
Maxine: "No need, I’m already in a car."
Ethan: "Alright, be safe on your way, then. I’m about to head home too."
Watching this rapid change in expression, Noah shook his head, clucking his tongue. "’I’m about to head home too~’ Ugh, look at you, all love-struck. I can’t even watch!"
Ethan put his phone away and leaned back leisurely in his chair, gently swirling the wine in his glass. He looked up at Noah, his tone flat but carrying a deadly blow. "Mm, the feeling of having someone waiting for you at home..."
He paused for a moment, the corner of his lip curling into a barely-there smirk. "...is actually quite nice."
This blatant show of affection left Noah speechless. He clutched his chest and slumped back in his chair. "Ethan Hawthorne! You’ve changed! You weren’t like this before! Where’s your coldness? Where’s your cruelty?"
The ever-silent Elias spoke up again, his voice soft. "The superiority of a married man is something we single folk can’t possibly comprehend."
He paused, looked at Noah, and delivered the most ruthless strike in the calmest tone imaginable: "After all, when we go home, all we have is a cold, unfeeling smart home assistant saying, ’Welcome home.’"
Hearing this, the smirk on Ethan’s lips finally bloomed into a full-fledged smile. He nodded, clearly enjoying this immensely.
"Indeed," he admitted candidly, his eyes clearly saying, ’I truly have nothing in common with you people who don’t have a wife waiting at home for you.’
Watching the two of them play off each other, Noah felt like he had taken ten thousand points of real damage. He wailed and lightly knocked his head against the table. "I can’t eat this meal anymore! You two... are too much! We’re done! We’re definitely done!"
