He Got Engaged to His First Love On the Day I Died-Chapter 95: He Had Never Celebrated Any Holiday With Her

Chapter 95: Chapter 95: He Had Never Celebrated Any Holiday With Her

The painting was clearly of Natalie Morgan.

’Who is he talking about when he says it has a special meaning for someone else?’

The assistant was completely baffled.

But Natalie understood what he meant.

His "special meaning for someone else" was just a reference to Wanda Lynch’s casual comment about how much she liked it.

Natalie didn’t want to make things difficult for the assistant.

So she said softly, "Since Mr. Grant likes it, just let him have it."

With that, Natalie turned and left.

The assistant’s lips parted as if to say something, but in the end, he said nothing at all.

She walked out of the art exhibition.

She readjusted the red scarf around her neck. As she faced the cold winter wind, her heart felt heavy and damp.

The online news outlets said Theodore and Wanda Lynch would be engaged in three months.

Three months. It wasn’t a long time, but it wasn’t short, either.

But at least now there was an end in sight.

By the time Theodore Grant came out of the art exhibition, Natalie was long gone.

Weller Kendall called to tell him there was a break in the investigation concerning Natalie and Felix Finch getting a hotel room.

Back at the office.

Weller Kendall reported his findings to Theodore Grant in detail.

"The reporters all received the same tip. The message stated that Theodore Grant’s wife was having a tryst with the heir to Finch Medical at a hotel, and it even provided the room number. Your wife and Dr. Finch also had two similar messages on their phones. From the looks of it, this was a deliberate setup."

’This setup was either the work of a business competitor or someone deliberately trying to destroy my marriage.’

’Either way, it inevitably caused losses for both me and the Grant Group.’

"Did you find out who sent the messages?"

"The messages were sent from a virtual number through a company that specializes in this service. The person who ordered it conducted the transaction online. We’re still tracing it."

Weller Kendall felt it wouldn’t be that difficult to track them down.

Anyone who does something like this is bound to leave a trace.

"Mr. Grant, I’ll find whoever is behind this as soon as possible."

"Mm."

When he got home that evening.

Natalie was curled up on the sofa, her head bowed as she sketched on a tablet.

Her long hair fell around her face, and combined with her pale, almost luminous skin, she had a kind of haggard beauty.

The television was on, playing some brainless romantic drama.

She didn’t notice Theodore had come home.

The housekeeper stepped forward to take Theodore’s overcoat. "Sir, shall I prepare dinner?"

"Go ahead."

He slipped on his house shoes and walked over to her.

She was sketching a cocktail dress. With just a few strokes, she outlined its form, imbuing it with the delicate charm of an ink wash painting.

Natalie’s artistic skill was truly exceptional.

’If she had the right opportunities, she might have become a brilliant artist.’

’Before, I didn’t know her at all.’

’I only knew she had some flashy, impractical hobbies, like playing the guzheng. Just looking at that thing annoyed me to no end.’

’I knew she’d won many awards in her field back in college.’

’But I’ve never seen a single one of her paintings in our home.’

’It seemed I had underestimated her.’

After tapping ’save’.

Natalie turned off the tablet. When she looked up, the sight of Theodore startled her, making her heart skip a beat.

She had assumed that after buying the painting, he would spend the evening admiring it with Wanda Lynch.

"Not bad."

Natalie knew he was talking about her sketch.

"It’s a cocktail dress for Mandy Chase and Mr. Wallace’s wedding anniversary."

Theodore raised an eyebrow slightly.

’A wedding anniversary?’

It dawned on him that he and Natalie had never celebrated their wedding anniversary.

No.

They had never celebrated *any* holiday together.

In the past, he rarely came home. He hated seeing her get all excited, filling the rooms with flowers in gleeful anticipation.

He had always detested her.

’But why... did he suddenly feel a pang of regret?’

"Did she invite you to the celebration?"

"No. They’ve planned a private trip for just the two of them, without even the kids. This dress is just for one part of their trip, one of the least remarkable parts, at that."

The only reason Mandy asked her to design it was out of pity, to help her earn some pocket money.

’And yet, a simple dress like this, for an occasion like that, was something I could only dream of.’

’Miles Wallace truly doted on Mandy, down to his very bones.’

’She was so envious, incredibly so.’

’But she would never have someone like that in her life.’

’That’s why she had scattered sparkling rhinestones all over the dress she designed for Mandy. She hoped Mandy’s life would be forever brilliant.’

’And that it would shine in place of her own life, which was trapped in darkness.’

"Sir, Madam, dinner is ready. Please come to the dining table."

Natalie had no appetite. She stood up from the sofa. "I’m not hungry."

"Are you still angry about what happened today?" He grabbed her wrist. "Is it really worth getting this upset over a painting? Or is it because it was a gift from Byron Quincy?"

"Theodore Grant, I won’t argue with you about buying paintings to please your mistress. But don’t you dare project your own behavior onto me and frame me for it."

She shook his hand off and headed upstairs.

’I’m not angry, exactly. It’s just... it’s always like this. It’s so frustrating and unfair.’

’He and Wanda Lynch are about to get engaged. Have I said a single word about it?’

’What a hypocrite.’

Theodore barely touched his dinner.

He then went upstairs to shower.

Natalie was already in bed.

After Theodore got into bed, his phone buzzed.

He held the phone, glanced at Natalie, and answered it anyway.

"Hello?"

"Theodore, Noelle Bell just delivered the painting! I absolutely love it. I can’t believe you bought it for me. I’m so touched. Thank you so much."

Maybe it was because Wanda Lynch’s voice was so shrill and excited, or maybe the volume on Theodore’s phone was just too high.

Whatever the reason, hearing it made Natalie’s heart ache with a bitter pang.

"I’m glad you like it." His voice was gentle, completely devoid of the arrogant, harsh tone he always used with her. "You’re still recovering. Get some rest."

"Theodore, can you come keep me company? This house is so big, and I’m a little scared." Suddenly, a noise echoed from somewhere in her house, and Wanda shrieked into the phone. "Theodore, you have to come over! I think there’s a burglar in my house!"

"Call the police first. I’m on my way."

Natalie felt an urge to laugh.

’Theodore always fell for Wanda Lynch’s tricks, hook, line, and sinker.’

’And he never seemed to get tired of it.’

In no time, Theodore was fully dressed and ready to go.

She watched him with a blank expression, not saying a word.

He suddenly reached out and gently ruffled her hair. "You go ahead and sleep. I have to go take care of something."

’Hah.’

’Was that his pathetic attempt to placate me?’

’Completely unnecessary.’

Theodore Grant didn’t come home for three straight days.

The only news she got of his whereabouts came from blurry photos published by the gossip media.

「On the weekend.」

Natalie went to the swimming pool by herself.

SPLASH! She dove into the pool.

She had just finished swimming a lap when she heard someone call her name.

"Natalie."

Natalie wiped the water from her face and looked over. "Byron? What a coincidence."

"It is." He swam to Natalie’s side. "You came by yourself?"

"Mhm."

As they were talking, Theodore Grant entered the facility with the owner of the pool. He spotted Natalie and Byron Quincy instantly.

"Mr. Grant, this swimming pool does excellent business. If you’re interested in investing, we can discuss the details."

The owner, Mr. Lowell, prattled on, spraying spittle as he spoke.

But Theodore’s eyes were glued to the woman’s body, half-submerged in the water.

Byron Quincy had his head tilted, talking to her. He seemed to be teaching her something, his large hand resting on her waist, occasionally moving to steady her leg.

Natalie would let out a laugh every now and then, and the atmosphere between them was undeniably intimate and flirtatious.

His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles cracked.

"Mr. Lowell, clear the pool."