Looking into Ella’s slightly angry eyes, Eric let out a bitter, mocking laugh. He stared at her, his heart feeling as if it were being torn apart, his logic nearly overtaken by anger.
"Ella, why should I be reasonable? I’ve never liked the son of a mistress, so why should I swallow my pride to let him stay here? Do you know what people will say? You’ve never insisted on anything with me before, but now, for him, you’re calling me petty? Saying I’m being unreasonable?"
Eric scoffed. "You care about him, don’t you? But what about me—am I not exhausted? These past few weeks, have you spared a thought for me?"
Ella stood there, stunned, her eyes reddening. "Yes! You’re right, I haven’t cared for you! My attention has been elsewhere. He’s in a vegetative state—how could I possibly be happy? Do you want him dead to make yourself feel better?"
Eric laughed derisively, his smile sharp and bitter. "Exactly! I do want him gone; I’m just that heartless! I don’t have your saintly compassion, obsessing over the son of a mistress. Your heart is already with him, isn’t it?"
Ella’s breathing quickened, her mouth opening as she searched for words but found none. How could he accuse her ? All she wanted was for Henry to recover so she wouldn’t feel indebted to him. Once he was better, they could go their separate ways, free of anyone’s criticism.
If it weren’t for Henry, she might have been scarred—would Eric even still love her then?
All she’d asked for was this small favor, and yet he doubted her intentions, cared more about public opinion, and accused her of favoring Henry?
Who had loved him so deeply, who, in his weakest moments, had wished to take his pain onto herself?
Who had, when he was unconscious, wished nothing more than for him to wake up and tell her, "I’m fine, I was just joking"?
Ella’s eyes misted over, and her voice trembled. "Eric, you say I favor him? Why not go further and accuse me of being in love with him? Go ahead, say it!"
Eric’s face was full of fury. At that moment, Mrs. Harris hurried in. "Sir, Ma’am, please don’t argue. Calm down, both of you!"
She moved toward Ella, taking her arm. "Ma’am, let’s step outside for a moment."
Eric let out a cold laugh. "If you don’t love him, why are you so tense and worried? Ella, is this what love means to you? Something so cheap?"
Ella nearly broke into tears. "Eric, what are you trying to say...?"
"Stop arguing! Sir, please don’t say another word—take a breath, and let’s work this out calmly," Mrs. Harris pleaded, concerned. For the past two years, this couple had never fought.
But with couples who were usually so harmonious, a fight often signaled deeper problems.
Eric’s chest rose and fell as he fought to contain himself. Both of them were stubborn, neither willing to back down. Seeing the tears in Ella’s eyes, he felt a sudden pang of regret.
"How could I cheapen love? Eric, do you have any idea how much this hurts me, that you would question my loyalty so easily? I have never felt anything romantic for Henry—I only want him to get better, to talk with him as a friend. And now, you accuse me of cheapening love? I never expected you to be this narrow-minded."
Ella wiped her tears, her body shaking with anger.
Her love for him had always been pure, unwavering, and free of doubts. She’d never had any feelings for Henry, and yet here he was, accusing her so unfairly.
Eric felt a painful tightness in his chest, like a rope constricting around his throat, suffocating him. His heart twisted with hurt as he forced a cold smile, his gaze icy. "That’s right, I’m narrow-minded! I’m so narrow that I don’t want to see him, and I can’t understand this saintly behavior of yours! I can’t take it! If you’re that determined, go ahead and bring him here!"
With those words, Eric turned and strode out.
Mrs. Harris hurried to catch up, trying to stop him. "Sir, please calm down..."
Eric’s face was set in a rigid mask, his anger making it impossible to stay any longer. If he remained, their argument would only worsen. He gently shook off Mrs. Harris’s hand, disappearing from Ella’s view in swift, determined strides.
Ella stood frozen, her face flushing and paling by turns, her body trembling as unbidden tears spilled from her eyes.
The roar of an engine filled the air outside, followed by the sound of a car speeding away.
Ella collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her arms on the dining table, sobbing.
Mrs. Harris returned, her expression soft with concern as she came over to rub Ella’s back gently.
"Ma’am, don’t think men are endlessly forgiving. In love, none of us can tolerate even the smallest doubt," Mrs. Harris murmured. "And especially for someone as proud as Mr. Nelson, with his past..."
She sighed, patting Ella’s back in comfort. "Just try to meet him halfway."
Ella’s heart felt like it was breaking, her breaths shallow and labored, as though a cold stone were lodged in her throat, choking her words and tears.
What hurt her most wasn’t Eric’s refusal to let Henry stay—it was that he’d doubted her love for him.
He’d accused her of playing the martyr, of giving her heart to Henry, a man he saw only as the son of a mistress.
He was accusing her of betrayal.
Ella’s sobs intensified, her pain and frustration swelling, nearly suffocating her.
Tears soaked her sleeve, and she didn’t know how long she cried before the sobs slowly quieted.
"Enough now, calm yourself. Why not talk to a friend and see if they can offer any advice?" Mrs. Harris suggested gently, continuing to rub her back. "Mr. Nelson has had a difficult life, and given all he’s endured, his dislike for Henry is understandable. I know you’re acting out of kindness, especially since... he took a blow for you, scarred himself. Anyone would feel the same way you do, not wanting to leave him . You’re both right in your own way, but it’s time to find some way to meet in the middle."
Ella nodded, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Mrs. Harris... I just need a little time alone."
"Alright. Try to eat a little, though. I’ll step out and do some tidying."
Mrs. Harris gave her a gentle pat on the back before leaving the dining room quietly.
Ella looked at the table, the once warm dishes now cold and untouched, feeling a deep loneliness.
After taking just a few sips of soup, she returned upstairs, collapsing onto the bed. The image of Eric’s resolute figure as he walked away replayed in her mind, bringing fresh tears to her eyes.
For over two years, their relationship had been peaceful, harmonious.
And now, all of this turmoil over Henry—was it worth it?