Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 77: Chapter 77
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 77: Chapter 77. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
The Bennetts trailed in right behind them.
Gathering her courage, Annabelle scanned the faces around the table, drew a deep breath, and stepped forward to greet them.
"Grandpa, Uncle, Aunt—good morning."
Sir Whitmore's expression darkened; a cold smile tugged at his lips. "I am not your grandpa."
Annabelle blanched and clamped her teeth on her lower lip.
Victor's parents hurried to smooth things over.
Mrs. Whitmore offered a gentle smile. "Annabelle, come sit here."
Surprised yet delighted, Annabelle beamed and took the seat beside her.
Playing the dutiful sweetheart came naturally to her. The moment she sat down, she gushed, "Auntie, your makeup is gorgeous today—standing next to Victor you look like his sister, not his mother!"
Mrs. Whitmore responded with a faint smile.
Warren Whitmore picked up his chopsticks. "Dad, everyone's here. Let's eat."
Except for Elena, Sir Whitmore wore a frosty face toward everyone at the table and completely ignored his eldest son's words.
Instead, he turned to Elena. "Ellie, I know you can't stomach heavy dishes, so I had the kitchen prepare these light ones especially for you. This meat has been treated in a special way—would you like to try and see if you can eat it?"
Elena looked at him with gratitude. "Thank you for being so thoughtful, Grandpa Whitmore."
Sir Whitmore ladled a plump meatball into her bowl.
Elena lifted it to her nose; no strange smell reached her.
She took a tentative bite. Sir Whitmore watched her closely and asked, "Well?"
Elena nodded. "It doesn't taste off at all."
Sir Whitmore's face blossomed in a smile. He quickly spooned an extra helping into her bowl. "Then eat more. You're far too thin. If all you have every day are those vegetables, how can you possibly get proper nutrition?"
"By the way, that medicinal tonic Victor sent to your room last time is for your stomach. I'll give you the prescription—remember to take it."
"Thank you, Sir Whitmore."
After another moment of thought, Sir Whitmore added, "On second thought, I'll move this chef to your house. From now on he'll handle all your meals, and he can prepare the tonic as well."
Elena opened her mouth. "I—"
"Adaline, Ellie's stomach is delicate. I'd like to assign a chef to her. You don't object, do you? I'll cover his salary and lodging; his only job will be to cook for Ellie at your place."
Adaline forced a laugh. "Of course not. You're doing this for my daughter's health—how could I object? We're grateful! We've wanted to nourish her stomach ourselves; we just hadn't found the right way yet."
Sir Whitmore's tone turned flat. "Solutions are devised by people. As long as you care enough, there's no problem that can't be solved."
Adaline could only give another awkward smile.
Having said that, Sir Whitmore picked up his chopsticks and signaled everyone to start eating.
Halfway through the meal, while Elena was chewing, someone kicked her under the table.
She looked up and found Julian Bennett staring at her.
He tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward Annabelle with his chin.
Elena understood at once. He wanted her to speak to Sir Whitmore and hand over the engagement to Annabelle.
She stayed still and lowered her gaze to her plate.
Julian's grip tightened around his chopsticks, the muscles along his jaw rigid.
The meal was halfway finished and Elena still hadn't moved. Adaline finally spoke up.
"Elena, didn't you say yesterday you had something to tell Sir Whitmore? Go on."
Elena pressed her lips together.
Sir Whitmore looked over. "Ellie, do you have a question for your grandpa?"
Gathering her courage, Annabelle scanned the faces around the table, drew a deep breath, and stepped forward to greet them.
"Grandpa, Uncle, Aunt—good morning."
Sir Whitmore's expression darkened; a cold smile tugged at his lips. "I am not your grandpa."
Annabelle blanched and clamped her teeth on her lower lip.
Victor's parents hurried to smooth things over.
Mrs. Whitmore offered a gentle smile. "Annabelle, come sit here."
Surprised yet delighted, Annabelle beamed and took the seat beside her.
Playing the dutiful sweetheart came naturally to her. The moment she sat down, she gushed, "Auntie, your makeup is gorgeous today—standing next to Victor you look like his sister, not his mother!"
Mrs. Whitmore responded with a faint smile.
Warren Whitmore picked up his chopsticks. "Dad, everyone's here. Let's eat."
Except for Elena, Sir Whitmore wore a frosty face toward everyone at the table and completely ignored his eldest son's words.
Instead, he turned to Elena. "Ellie, I know you can't stomach heavy dishes, so I had the kitchen prepare these light ones especially for you. This meat has been treated in a special way—would you like to try and see if you can eat it?"
Elena looked at him with gratitude. "Thank you for being so thoughtful, Grandpa Whitmore."
Sir Whitmore ladled a plump meatball into her bowl.
Elena lifted it to her nose; no strange smell reached her.
She took a tentative bite. Sir Whitmore watched her closely and asked, "Well?"
Elena nodded. "It doesn't taste off at all."
Sir Whitmore's face blossomed in a smile. He quickly spooned an extra helping into her bowl. "Then eat more. You're far too thin. If all you have every day are those vegetables, how can you possibly get proper nutrition?"
"By the way, that medicinal tonic Victor sent to your room last time is for your stomach. I'll give you the prescription—remember to take it."
"Thank you, Sir Whitmore."
After another moment of thought, Sir Whitmore added, "On second thought, I'll move this chef to your house. From now on he'll handle all your meals, and he can prepare the tonic as well."
Elena opened her mouth. "I—"
"Adaline, Ellie's stomach is delicate. I'd like to assign a chef to her. You don't object, do you? I'll cover his salary and lodging; his only job will be to cook for Ellie at your place."
Adaline forced a laugh. "Of course not. You're doing this for my daughter's health—how could I object? We're grateful! We've wanted to nourish her stomach ourselves; we just hadn't found the right way yet."
Sir Whitmore's tone turned flat. "Solutions are devised by people. As long as you care enough, there's no problem that can't be solved."
Adaline could only give another awkward smile.
Having said that, Sir Whitmore picked up his chopsticks and signaled everyone to start eating.
Halfway through the meal, while Elena was chewing, someone kicked her under the table.
She looked up and found Julian Bennett staring at her.
He tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward Annabelle with his chin.
Elena understood at once. He wanted her to speak to Sir Whitmore and hand over the engagement to Annabelle.
She stayed still and lowered her gaze to her plate.
Julian's grip tightened around his chopsticks, the muscles along his jaw rigid.
The meal was halfway finished and Elena still hadn't moved. Adaline finally spoke up.
"Elena, didn't you say yesterday you had something to tell Sir Whitmore? Go on."
Elena pressed her lips together.
Sir Whitmore looked over. "Ellie, do you have a question for your grandpa?"
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 77. Continue reading Chapter 78 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.