Secretly Married for 4 Years, He Regrets to Tears After the Divorce

Chapter 259: Chapter 259: I Am Wren’s Husband, Adrian Lancaster

The next day, at nine in the morning, a sleek black van pulled up in front of the Suttons’ home. The driver got out and waited respectfully.

They departed promptly at nine-thirty, taking the highway for the entire journey.

The van was very spacious. Aside from the driver, the back rows seated Mr. Sutton, Mrs. Sutton, Wren Sutton, Adrian Lancaster, Owen Lancaster, and Nina Lancaster.

Two hours later, the view outside the window had changed to wide, flat fields, with the distant mountains a dark, hazy blue.

Owen and Nina peered out the windows curiously at first, but they were soon lulled to sleep by the smooth ride and comfortable seats.

It was quiet inside the van.

Wren Sutton sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the green landscape flying past outside.

Beneath the quiet apprehension that came with returning home, there was a subtle undercurrent of unfamiliarity.

She hadn’t been back in many years. The Avenia of her memory was her grandmother’s quiet little courtyard and the shrill drone of cicadas on a summer afternoon.

"The next exit is ours," Adrian Lancaster, who had been watching the GPS, said gently.

Hearing this, Mrs. Sutton immediately straightened up, her face nearly pressed against the window as she peered outside.

"That’s right, this is the road." Her voice held an unmistakable excitement, and her eyes greedily drank in every bit of the changed scenery.

"There used to be a big pond here, but now it’s been filled in and built over. And that area over there was a patch of wasteland, but now it’s a shopping mall. It’s all so different..."

Mr. Sutton watched silently as well, occasionally adding, "The roads are wider and the buildings are taller. The changes really are massive. If the GPS hadn’t told us, I wouldn’t have believed this was Avenia."

Wren Sutton looked where her mother pointed, trying to find some trace of the past amidst the brand-new buildings, manicured green spaces, and streams of traffic, but it was a futile effort.

This was nothing like the quiet, simple town of her memories. Only the distant, rolling silhouette of the mountains remained vaguely familiar.

Following Mrs. Sutton’s directions, the van made a few turns on the newly widened and repaved town roads before finally turning onto a relatively quiet lane lined with camphor trees.

Compared to the brand-new streets outside, this area still retained some of its old-world charm, though most of the old houses had been renovated or rebuilt.

Finally, the van stopped in front of a neat, two-story house with a facade of beige ceramic tiles.

The house had a small yard with a wrought-iron gate, which was shut tight. The style was identical to the neighboring houses, clearly part of a planned development.

If her mother hadn’t pointed and confirmed it, Wren Sutton would never have recognized this as the site of her grandmother’s old home.

"This is the place," Mrs. Sutton explained. "A few years ago, the old house became too dilapidated to live in, so your uncle and I pooled our money to have it rebuilt on the original foundation. We asked Granny Foster’s son and his family next door to help look after it."

Mrs. Sutton explained, her voice tinged with the melancholy of returning to a place where so much had changed. The memories came flooding back, and tears welled up in her eyes.

The driver brought the van to a stop. Adrian Lancaster was the first to get out, opening the doors for the elders before carefully taking one of the children.

Mrs. Sutton’s hand trembled slightly as she held the key. It took her two tries to fit it into the lock before the gate swung open.

CREAK... The iron gate swung open.

The yard wasn’t large. It was paved with concrete, and a small flowerbed built in the corner held some common, well-tended flowers and plants.

The house was new. Gone were the wooden beams, gray tiles, inner courtyard, and high threshold of the old home in her memory.

But standing there, Mrs. Sutton’s expression visibly relaxed.

"We’re home."

The driver was tasked with bringing the suitcases into the house and setting them down.

Just then, the sound of footsteps approached the gate, followed by a slightly hesitant question.

"Is that Yuna from the Morrison family, back for a visit?"

A silver-haired but spry old woman, supported by a middle-aged woman, was peering into the yard.

The old woman’s eyes landed on Mrs. Sutton’s face. She studied it for a moment, and then her voice rose with excitement.

"It really is Yuna! Yuna, dear, do you still remember me?"

Mrs. Sutton spun around. She stared for a second, then a look of surprised delight crossed her face as she hurried to greet the woman.

"Granny Foster, it’s you! Of course I remember you. You’re still looking so hale and hearty."

She clasped the old woman’s thin, warm hand tightly.

This Granny Foster had been a neighbor of Wren Sutton’s maternal grandmother for many years and one of her closest friends.

"I was inside when I heard a noise—sounded like your gate opening. I thought to myself, ’Could the Morrisons be back?’ I had my daughter-in-law help me out to take a look, and I can’t believe it’s really you!"

Granny Foster patted the back of Mrs. Sutton’s hand happily, her gaze then shifting to Wren Sutton standing behind her. She squinted, studying her carefully.

"Is this little Claire? My, you’ve grown so tall! The last time I saw you, you were only about this high."

The kind-faced old woman gestured with her hand to show the height.

"You had two little pigtails and followed your grandmother around everywhere like a little shadow. And now, in the blink of an eye, you’re a mother yourself."

Wren Sutton quickly stepped forward. Though she had only the faintest memory of the old woman, she felt a deep sense of respect.

"Hello, Granny Foster. I’m Wren Sutton."

"Yes, yes, of course," Granny Foster nodded again and again. Her eyes moved to Adrian Lancaster and the child in his arms, then to the other one held by Mr. Sutton, and the corners of her eyes crinkled into a warm smile.

"This must be your husband and the babies, then. Your husband is so handsome and tall, and he has such a distinguished air about him. You can tell he’s the type who’ll dote on his wife."

"They’re twins! What a blessing. Oh, Claire, if your grandmother could see you now, she would be overjoyed."

The commotion in the yard attracted other neighbors.

People from the houses on either side poked their heads out, and soon, several middle-aged and elderly neighbors had gathered at the gate.

"Is that really Yuna from the Morrison family?"

"Yuna’s the most successful person to come out of our town. A distinguished professor now. She’s the pride of Avenia."

"And this must be Yuna’s daughter, Claire, right? Do you remember me? I’m Uncle Wallace from down the street. You used to come over to my house to watch TV all the time as a kid."

"Oh, just look at these two little ones! They’re absolutely adorable, cute as dolls. They inherited all the best features from Claire and her husband. Just perfect."

"Claire, your grandmother loved bringing you over to my house for a visit. You grew up eating the dates from the jujube tree in my yard."

A wave of warm, heartfelt greetings and memories washed over her.

Wren Sutton was at a bit of a loss. These people, these events—they were nothing more than faint shadows in her memory, or in some cases, complete blanks.

But their words were earnest and their faces warm, as if she had only left yesterday.

A man who looked a few years older than Mrs. Sutton spoke up, his voice booming.

"Claire probably doesn’t remember, but when you were three or four, you came down with a high fever. Your grandmother was so scared she came knocking on my door in the middle of the night. I was the one who took you and her to the town clinic on my bicycle. The roads weren’t paved back then, so it was a very bumpy ride."

Another woman with graying hair chimed in.

"Your grandmother was the kindest soul. Our family was going through a hard time back then, and she helped us out often. Whenever she made something delicious, she’d always bring a bowl over. We’ve never forgotten her kindness."

Mrs. Sutton’s eyes had already turned red. She just kept nodding at her old neighbors, thanking them.

Mr. Sutton, a man of few words, also gave a slight nod from the side.

Adrian Lancaster, who had been standing beside Wren Sutton, took in the scene and gave a calm signal.

The driver immediately retrieved several boxes of fruit and nutritional supplements suitable for the elderly that they had prepared in advance.

Adrian Lancaster handed them out personally to the gathered neighbors, his manner both humble and sincere.

"Hello, everyone. To all the grandpas, grandmas, uncles, and aunts here, my name is Adrian Lancaster. I’m Wren’s husband. These gifts are just a small token of our family’s appreciation. Wren hasn’t been back in a long time, so she might not recognize everyone right away. We hope you’ll understand."

His polite manners and thoughtful words quickly won over the old neighbors, who showered him with praise.

"What a fine son-in-law. Handsome and so well-mannered."

"Claire is a lucky woman."

Just then, an elderly woman stepped forward and took Mrs. Sutton’s hand.

"Yuna, you don’t need to worry about your mother’s grave. A few of us old friends go by every so often to check on it, pull the weeds, and clean the headstone."

"We all went to offer incense during the Qingming Festival not long ago. Your mother was so good to us when she was alive. We all remember how kind she was."

Mrs. Sutton’s tears finally spilled over, and she squeezed the woman’s hand tightly.

"Thank you... thank you all. My mother was so blessed to have such wonderful neighbors. It’s a blessing for us, her family, as well."

The old neighbors kept her talking for a while longer. It was only after Adrian Lancaster gently reminded everyone that the family needed to go pay their respects at the cemetery that they reluctantly dispersed.

"Come over for dinner tonight! No refusing."

"If you’re missing anything, just come and grab it. Treat our home like your own."

"Okay, thank you, everyone."

After closing the gate, they returned to the new but slightly chilly house, which had stood empty for so long. Mrs. Sutton’s emotions were still running high.

"The house is new, the roads are new... There are so many places I barely recognize anymore."

"But these old neighbors, their kindness... that hasn’t changed. The seeds of goodwill your grandmother planted all those years ago are still here."

Wren Sutton felt a tremor in her heart and nodded silently.

"I understand, Mom."

This unfamiliar house, thanks to the vibrant people and sincere affection just outside the gate, now seemed to be filled with a familiar warmth.

’Grandma, I’m here to see you.’