Sue hurried over to intervene, and only then did Old Mrs. Grant drop the cane. "Get out! Get the hell away from me!"
Sue turned to persuade Vincent. "Vincent, you should leave for now. Don’t upset the Old Mrs. to the point where she falls ill."
Vincent walked out in silence, running right into Miles, who was just returning.
Miles glanced at the scene inside and knew what had happened.
"Come on. I’ll have a drink with you."
Vincent silently followed Miles to a stone table outside. Miles had someone bring over a bottle of liquor.
The Grant family’s upbringing was very strict; drinking was rarely permitted.
Still, Miles took out two glasses, poured them full, and was the first to pick one up, downing it in a single gulp.
"Sigh... women. They’re so complicated."
Vincent said nothing.
He had never joined the military, but his self-discipline was even greater than Miles’s.
He stared down at his glass, not moving to drink it.
But his eyes no longer held their usual steady, commanding presence. They were empty, as if he had lost his soul.
It was the first time Miles had seen Vincent so dispirited. He let out a deep sigh. "I’m not trying to criticize you, Vincent, but how did you manage to go months without knowing you’d been divorced?"
Vincent was speechless.
"How else could he do it? By ignoring her, not listening, and not asking, that’s how," Lena said, walking in from outside. Having overheard Miles, her tone was utterly cold.
"Lynn, don’t be so harsh. Vincent is your little brother, after all. Consider his feelings," Miles reminded her.
"Little brother? I’d have to be the unluckiest person in the world to have a brother like him!" Lena had always been deeply unhappy with how Vincent treated Sophia.
"Miles, you want me to consider his feelings? Did he ever consider Sophia’s?"
"Sophia divorced him, and he was completely oblivious. How hurt do you think Sophia was?"
"It’s like getting a divorce wasn’t enough, he had to go and twist a knife in her heart. You’re not the victim here, Vincent. Sophia is!"
Having grown up witnessing her parents’ constant strife, Lena despised the way people could hurt each other in a marriage.
"And you, Miles." Lena turned on him next. "Eleanor wants to go to Baros. Stop blocking her and give her back her papers!"
Miles grew very uncomfortable as Lena directed her tirade at him.
He grumbled, "I’m only stopping Eleanor from going to Baros for her own good. That place is a mess. What if she gets into trouble? And I can’t believe she went and tattled to you."
Lena scoffed. "You talk as if she has it so good with you. If things were really that great, would Grandma have needed to step in and solve that whole Ivan Murray affair for you?"
At the mention of Ian, Miles’s face flushed, a burning shame that spread straight to his heart.
"I’m your older brother. Is that any way to talk to me?"
"You’re lucky you’re my brother. If you were Da Wei, I’d have shot you by now!"
Da Wei was Lena’s husband.
With that, she strode into the house.
"That Lynn... honestly! Just ignore her. Let’s drink."
Miles muttered, then threw back another gulp of liquor.
Vincent silently lit a cigarette and took a long, hard drag.
The smoke seared his lungs, acrid and sharp.
Lena’s words echoed in his mind, piercing him with a pain even sharper than the smoke.
’Yeah... how *did* I manage that?’
「The next day.」
Wanting to spend a little more time with Old Mrs. Grant, Sophia dressed Bun early in a frilly pink dress.
The dress had a pair of wings on the back, and paired with a cute antennae hair clip, the little girl looked just like a beautiful pink butterfly.
Sophia was so overwhelmed by how adorable Bun looked that she couldn’t help but snap a whole series of photos.
It was a little while before she finally placed the little girl into her car seat.
Bun said goodbye to Ms. Archer in her sweet, childish voice. "Auntie, bye-bye!"
The two of them arrived at Grant Manor around noon.
From a distance, they could see Old Mrs. Grant and Sue standing at the main gate.
When she saw their car, Old Mrs. Grant walked over, her smile broadening.
"Grandma," Sophia called out dutifully.
She lifted Bun out of the car. "Quick, say hi to Great-Grandma."
"Great-Grandma."
The little girl’s voice was bright and sweet, drawing a happy chuckle from Old Mrs. Grant. Absolutely delighted, she immediately swept the child into her arms.
Sue was happy to see Old Mrs. Grant looking so pleased.
"Old Mrs. Grant knew you were coming, so she had the kitchen start preparations early this morning. She even personally made some of the pastries Bun loves."
Old Mrs. Grant’s warmth and enthusiasm made Sophia feel a little shy.
Old Mrs. Grant tucked a large red envelope into Bun’s arms. "She’s my own great-granddaughter. It’s my pleasure."
Bun clutched the huge, bulging red envelope, looking like a little squirrel hugging a giant pinecone. She had to brace it against Old Mrs. Grant’s chest just to keep it from falling.
Sophia estimated it contained at least twenty thousand.
’That’s... way too much.’
The four of them chatted happily as they walked back toward the house, the atmosphere warm and cheerful.
Upon reaching the courtyard, they ran right into Vincent.
Old Mrs. Grant saw the car behind him—the same one that had already left—and the smile on her face instantly vanished. "Didn’t I tell you to leave? Why are you back?"
Her tone was as cold and biting as an autumn wind, utterly devoid of the warmth she had just shown Sophia.
Vincent remained silent, his gaze falling on Sophia with a hint of grievance.
Old Mrs. Grant saw his look and said, "Faye didn’t know you would be here. I was the one who told you to leave."
Vincent said, "...Grandma."
’If I hadn’t seen her go into the kitchen to make pastries as I was leaving,’ he thought, ’if I hadn’t figured it out and turned around, I really would have missed them, wouldn’t I?’
Old Mrs. Grant huffed. "It took a lot of effort to persuade Sophia to bring the child for a visit. And here you are, standing around like a turd in the punchbowl. Are you trying to make my old bones sick, or are you trying to make Faye sick?"
Both Sue and Sophia froze.
’A turd in the punchbowl...’
’The Old Mrs. really doesn’t hold back!’
Although Sophia didn’t want to see Vincent, she didn’t want Old Mrs. Grant to drive away her own grandson just to accommodate her. "Grandma, it’s alright," she said. "It’s just one more person."
Her meaning was clear: Vincent was just an extra person, nothing more.
Hearing her speak with such casual indifference, Old Mrs. Grant didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad.
She was happy that Sophia had finally moved on from the pain of the past.
But she was also sad that the Grant family, and Vincent in particular, had ultimately lost such a wonderful person.
"Good girl," Old Mrs. Grant said, patting her hand gently with a sigh.
Once inside, Sue went to the kitchen to help with the meal, and Old Mrs. Grant set Bun down on the sofa.
Despite being a chubby baby, Bun was as quick as a little mouse. She immediately slid off the sofa and began to scamper around the entire room with determined little PUFFS.
Everything in the house was a novelty to her.
She giggled as she crawled, her sweet, childish laughter filling the room.
Watching her chubby little form, Old Mrs. Grant’s eyes grew moist.
"Ah, the house hasn’t been this lively in a long, long time."
Eleanor Crawford had no children, Shane Grant wasn’t married, and Vincent was so busy with his business that he rarely visited, so his child naturally wasn’t raised here.
Old Mrs. Grant’s memories of children were still from when the Grant brothers themselves were small.
In the blink of an eye, even Vincent was approaching thirty.
Bun crawled so fast that, while Old Mrs. Grant and Sophia could initially keep up while chatting, they soon found themselves falling behind.
Sophia had no choice but to scoop the little girl up.
Her exploration cut short, the little girl was not pleased and kicked her legs in protest.
She let out a series of fussy wails, her expression the very picture of indignation.
"You chat with Grandma. I’ll watch her."
Vincent said, walking over.
Sophia hesitated for a moment, but he had already taken Bun from her arms.
Bun was still fussing, but Vincent gently set her down on the floor.
The little girl finally gave him a pleased look. She giggled, flashing a toothy grin before quickly crawling away again.
Vincent followed right behind her.
Sophia stared blankly at the two figures—one walking, one crawling.
"Just let him watch her for a while. Taking care of his own child is his duty, after all!"
The Old Mrs. pulled Sophia back to the sofa and they resumed their private conversation.
Half an hour later, Sue began bringing out platters of delicious-smelling and beautifully presented dishes.
Vincent returned as well, carrying Bun.
Tired from all her playing, the little girl was nestled quietly in Vincent’s arms for once, playing with a brand-new little toy.
The toy made all sorts of different sounds when squeezed, and the little girl was happily engrossed in her explorations, pinching it again and again.
Old Mrs. Grant took Bun from him to wipe her hands. "There’s nothing for you to do here anymore. You can get lost now!"
In the old woman’s mind, Vincent’s only purpose today had been to serve as a tool.