Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 35: Chapter 35
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 35: Chapter 35. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
On the second floor Sir Whitmore murmured, "Ellie, I've seen how your parents treat you. Whatever wrongs you've suffered, tell me and I'll make it right."
Elena stared at him, dazed, eyes suddenly moist.
Perhaps this old man was the only person who truly cared for her.
But her fate was already severed from the Whitmore family—and therefore from him. How could she voice the hatred lodged in her heart?
She lowered her lashes and shook her head. "I'm fine."
Sir Whitmore gazed at her with aching tenderness. "Ellie, whatever your parents decide, I recognize only you as my future granddaughter-in-law. I will never permit Victor to marry Annabelle."
Elena offered a faint smile. "Grandpa, I'm no longer in love with Victor."
Sir Whitmore's eyes widened, then slowly dimmed.
He seemed to recall what had happened a year earlier.
Back then, Victor hadn't stepped forward to protect her.
Sir Whitmore had once cherished high hopes for the pair, yet his grandson kept a frosty face toward Elena, refusing to defend her when she needed him most, even...
His gaze fell on the scars still marring her skin, and he sighed in anguish.
When all was said and done, Victor bore his share of blame for every one of those wounds.
"Ellie, I understand—this is Victor's failing. He doesn't deserve you!"
With another weary sigh he muttered, "My life has been hard. My eldest son died young, my grandson is a disappointment, and my younger son refuses to settle down—well into his thirties with not even a mosquito of a woman at his side, forever arguing with me!
"That rascal will be back in the country soon. One of these days those two will be the death of this old man!"
Elena knew he was speaking of Simon Whitmore, Victor's uncle. Outwardly Victor seemed to run the Whitmore businesses, but the real power had always rested with Simon.
Rumor had it he'd been throwing himself into overseas expansion—so why the sudden decision to fly back to Riverton? Whatever the reason, it had absolutely nothing to do with her.
Outside the door, Victor Whitmore's hand stalled mid-air. Inside his skull the sentence kept echoing, "I don't like Victor anymore." Not like him? Then what was the point of dragging Sir Whitmore here—wasn't she plainly trying to wreck the wedding?
Inside the room, Elena Bennett was just helping Sir Whitmore toward the exit when Victor spun on his heel and hurried off down the hallway.
Annabelle Bennett rushed up, worry written across her face. "Victor, how did it go? What did Grandpa say?"
"I didn't see him."
At that moment Annabelle glanced toward the landing—only to spot Elena supporting Sir Whitmore as they came downstairs, looking every bit the picture of doting grand-daughter and doting grandfather. She clenched her molars so hard her back teeth ached.
Sir Whitmore reached the bottom step, shot Victor a withering glare, and muttered, "I'm taking Ellie to a doctor. See if you can manage not to make things worse."
Victor pressed his lips together, then spoke up. "Wait—Grandpa, I need a word with Elena. Alone."
Sir Whitmore's eyes lit up—was the boy finally coming to his senses and planning to win her back?
Before the old man could answer, Victor seized Elena's hand and drew her into the break room.
The moment the door clicked shut, he spun her around and pinned her against the wood.
Elena demanded, "President Whitmore, what do you think you're doing?"
"President Whitmore?" He let out a low laugh. "That's not what you called me in the fitting room yesterday."
Elena lowered her eyes. "Is that so? I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."
Elena stared at him, dazed, eyes suddenly moist.
Perhaps this old man was the only person who truly cared for her.
But her fate was already severed from the Whitmore family—and therefore from him. How could she voice the hatred lodged in her heart?
She lowered her lashes and shook her head. "I'm fine."
Sir Whitmore gazed at her with aching tenderness. "Ellie, whatever your parents decide, I recognize only you as my future granddaughter-in-law. I will never permit Victor to marry Annabelle."
Elena offered a faint smile. "Grandpa, I'm no longer in love with Victor."
Sir Whitmore's eyes widened, then slowly dimmed.
He seemed to recall what had happened a year earlier.
Back then, Victor hadn't stepped forward to protect her.
Sir Whitmore had once cherished high hopes for the pair, yet his grandson kept a frosty face toward Elena, refusing to defend her when she needed him most, even...
His gaze fell on the scars still marring her skin, and he sighed in anguish.
When all was said and done, Victor bore his share of blame for every one of those wounds.
"Ellie, I understand—this is Victor's failing. He doesn't deserve you!"
With another weary sigh he muttered, "My life has been hard. My eldest son died young, my grandson is a disappointment, and my younger son refuses to settle down—well into his thirties with not even a mosquito of a woman at his side, forever arguing with me!
"That rascal will be back in the country soon. One of these days those two will be the death of this old man!"
Elena knew he was speaking of Simon Whitmore, Victor's uncle. Outwardly Victor seemed to run the Whitmore businesses, but the real power had always rested with Simon.
Rumor had it he'd been throwing himself into overseas expansion—so why the sudden decision to fly back to Riverton? Whatever the reason, it had absolutely nothing to do with her.
Outside the door, Victor Whitmore's hand stalled mid-air. Inside his skull the sentence kept echoing, "I don't like Victor anymore." Not like him? Then what was the point of dragging Sir Whitmore here—wasn't she plainly trying to wreck the wedding?
Inside the room, Elena Bennett was just helping Sir Whitmore toward the exit when Victor spun on his heel and hurried off down the hallway.
Annabelle Bennett rushed up, worry written across her face. "Victor, how did it go? What did Grandpa say?"
"I didn't see him."
At that moment Annabelle glanced toward the landing—only to spot Elena supporting Sir Whitmore as they came downstairs, looking every bit the picture of doting grand-daughter and doting grandfather. She clenched her molars so hard her back teeth ached.
Sir Whitmore reached the bottom step, shot Victor a withering glare, and muttered, "I'm taking Ellie to a doctor. See if you can manage not to make things worse."
Victor pressed his lips together, then spoke up. "Wait—Grandpa, I need a word with Elena. Alone."
Sir Whitmore's eyes lit up—was the boy finally coming to his senses and planning to win her back?
Before the old man could answer, Victor seized Elena's hand and drew her into the break room.
The moment the door clicked shut, he spun her around and pinned her against the wood.
Elena demanded, "President Whitmore, what do you think you're doing?"
"President Whitmore?" He let out a low laugh. "That's not what you called me in the fitting room yesterday."
Elena lowered her eyes. "Is that so? I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 35. Continue reading Chapter 36 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.