Remarriage Failed Again Today

Solitary, cold, cut off from the world.

She sat there quietly, expressionless and utterly still.

Leona Grant loved her, but he hated this side of her the most—this cold, lifeless detachment, as if she were unconcerned with the world.

When she was like this, she gave off a suffocating, death-like pressure.

At the same time, it made a person’s heart clench in pain.

He let out a breath, pushed open the car door, and walked toward her.

The alcohol had dulled her senses, making her slow to react. So much so that Annabelle Linton didn’t even notice when Leona Grant sat down right beside her.

Leona Grant frowned, staring at her profile. He assumed she was ignoring him on purpose and said in a low, heavy voice, "Annabelle Linton."

Annabelle Linton didn’t react.

Leona Grant’s frown deepened. He called out again, "Annabelle Linton!"

Annabelle Linton was startled and turned her head to look at him, her crystal-clear eyes as placid as still water.

Helpless, innocent, pitiful.

Leona Grant gazed into her clear, starlit eyes, and it felt as if something had struck his heart, sending ripples spreading through him, one after another.

He glanced at her.

She was wearing only a single red dress, which was far too thin.

He had left in a hurry without a suit jacket, so he was only wearing a white shirt and had no coat to drape over her.

He didn’t dare pull her into an embrace, so he could only place his hand on her arm.

Her arm was ice-cold.

Leona Grant frowned, stood up, and said softly, "Let’s go back."

Annabelle Linton withdrew her gaze. Her mood soured as she recalled the scenes from the file. She lowered her head, unmoving.

Seeing her refuse to move, Leona Grant was even more certain she was angry.

Though he was used to her indifference, the silent treatment was honestly worse than being physically struck.

Seeing her ignore him, a bitter feeling rose in his heart, as if an invisible hand were squeezing it tight.

He sighed helplessly, pursed his lips, and called her name again. "Annabelle Linton..."

Still no response.

Leona Grant gazed at her with dark, fathomless eyes, silent for a long moment.

’Remembering the past, and that dream... I can’t hurt her again.’

’Compared to losing her, what’s so hard about swallowing my pride?’

Leona Grant took a breath, gathered his courage, and said cautiously, "Annabelle Linton... The other day... It was my fault. Can you forgive me?"

Annabelle Linton raised her eyes to look at him, her expression cold and unreadable.

Leona Grant opened and closed his mouth, gathering his words. "It was my fault the other day. I shouldn’t have been so unreasonable, I shouldn’t have said all that nonsense, I shouldn’t have baselessly suspected you and... someone else... Please don’t be angry, okay?"

"..."

"I’ll agree to anything you want. You..."

Leona Grant pressed his lips together. "I know I let you down. In the future... if you don’t want to see me, we can schedule our time together. I’ll only come back twice a week, and I’ll try my best not to make you angry. I just want to see you, that’s all. Otherwise, I’ll miss you. Okay?"

"..."

He lowered his head, looking like a dejected child who’d done something wrong. "And... I’ll try my best not to bother you when it’s not necessary. If you don’t want to sleep with me, we can sleep in separate beds. But... in our bedroom. Can you please not make me leave? I..."

"..."

"And I’ll try my best not to interfere with you. I’ll give you your space, and I’ll support whatever you do... That’s all I can think of for now. If there’s anything else, just say it. I... I’ll do my best to agree to all of it. It’s just... it’s just..."

Leona Grant looked at her earnestly and said, his voice filled with sorrow, "Can we not get a divorce... please? I... I don’t want us to become strangers..."