Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 26: Chapter 26

I almost laughed out loud.
She deliberately stopped to warn me?
Who was she not confident about—Arnold or herself?
I didn't pay attention to her, merely glanced at her coolly and stepped into the house.
As soon as I entered, I heard a servant respectfully approaching: "Young master, you're back."
"Mm." Arnold only responded once, casually handing the little girl in his arms to the servant: "Take her to get cleaned up."
"Is that Arnold back?" A gentle yet authoritative female voice came.
I looked up and saw a woman in a light blue dress with a shawl slowly walking out. Her makeup was exquisite, her temperament elegant—in her fifties but looking like her early forties.
She was Arnold's mother, Olivia.
Seeing the child in Arnold's arms, her face immediately filled with surprise: "Arnold, this child is?"
"Picked up at the airport."
I saw the light that had instantly brightened in her eyes suddenly dim.
Did she think I hadn't aborted the child back then and Arnold had found me?
The disappointment came too quickly.
Before she could ask questions, she saw me.
She stared at me for a few seconds, her expression freezing as if just pulling me from her memory: "Paisley?"
I nodded politely: "Victoria, long time no see."
"It really is you!" She walked up to me, her face instantly turning ashen with surging anger: "You actually dare to come back? I ask you, where is my grandson? Where did you take my grandson?"
My heart sank.
Her voice was full of accusation, as if she wanted to vent five years of accumulated resentment on me.
Of course I knew she had never forgiven me.
In her eyes, I was the evil woman cruel enough to abort a seven-month pregnancy.
She grabbed my arm, her eyes reddening: "Paisley, where is the child from back then? You didn't abort it at all, did you? You lied to us, didn't you?"
I said nothing.
"Mom!" Arnold interrupted her: "Grandpa wants to see her. Let her go up first."
"See Father? Is she worthy? What face does she have to see your grandfather?" Olivia was aggressive, her tone full of fury: "Your grandfather became bedridden because of her and almost..."
"Olivia."
A deep voice suddenly came from upstairs.
I looked up and saw Grandpa Scott standing at the stairway, his figure upright though he now had a cane.
His gaze was calm, falling on me.
"Paisley, come up."
My throat tightened as I nodded slightly, pressed my lips together, and walked upstairs.
"You're still protecting her?" Behind me, Olivia's fury hadn't dissipated: "You know how heartless she was back then!"
I didn't look back, but I knew Scott's presence was never just talk.
"Aunt, please don't be angry." Victoria gently stepped forward, lightly patting Olivia's back: "It's not worth getting upset over someone like that."
Olivia's anger subsided slightly as she nodded and gave Victoria an approving look: "Victoria, you sit for a while. I have something to ask Arnold."
"Alright." Victoria obediently agreed.
Then Olivia called Arnold upstairs too.
I had already walked into Grandpa's study, stopping at the door for two seconds to take a deep breath before pushing it open.
The old butler stood respectfully aside, seeing me and immediately nodding: "Young madam, welcome back."
"Mm." I responded softly, my gaze falling on Grandpa Scott.
I called out: "Grandpa."
He looked at me quietly, his eyes holding no reproach, only faint emotion: "You're back."
"Mm."
Scott had indeed aged somewhat, but his steady presence hadn't diminished at all. Just sitting there made me instinctively examine whether I had said or done anything wrong.
This man who once could overturn situations with a gesture, this business giant who never needed to get angry—just one look could make people bow their heads.
I spoke softly: "Grandpa, I'm sorry. Back then I..."
He waved his hand, interrupting me: "Paisley, you don't need to apologize to me. Back then, Arnold was at fault—he wronged you first."
I was stunned.
"I saw everything he did and have already disciplined him. But the divorce agreement you left—he never signed it."
After speaking, Scott raised his hand slightly. The old butler stepped forward and placed the divorce agreement I had written with my own hand five years ago, the one I had left in tears, in front of me.
I was stunned.
I thought this paper had long since turned to ash.
He actually hadn't signed it.
Why?
Hadn't he been determined to marry Victoria? Shouldn't he have eagerly signed it, desperate to divorce me?
As I stood there in shock, Scott spoke slowly, his tone calm yet inescapable.
"Paisley, you left too hastily back then. Now I just want to ask you one thing—is there still a possibility between you and Arnold?"