Rhoda Kensington seemed oblivious to Vincent Hawthorne’s sarcasm, and she smiled as she said, "Yes, I didn’t expect it either. Originally, I thought my aunt would ignore Uncle for at least three days, but who knew she would be worried about him being thirsty after just one night. But that’s just how it is; my aunt has always been the type to worry. Whenever we went out together, if she left your side for even a moment, she’d start fretting, afraid that Uncle would be thirsty, hungry, cold, or hot.
I once teased her, saying Uncle is such a grown man, with so many servants around, how could he not take good care of himself? But my aunt said there’s nothing she can do about it; since she and Uncle have only each other, if she doesn’t worry, who else genuinely would?"
Vincent Hawthorne was stunned by Rhoda Kensington’s words, as memories of his deep affection for Susan Kensington flooded his heart.
The fire in his heart dissipated, and after a moment of silence, he couldn’t help but sigh, "Yes, it’s just your aunt and me."
Because of Autumn Forrest’s death, his mother wouldn’t forgive him, his father was utterly disappointed in him, and of his three sons, two were hostile towards him, and one was merely in a mess without any understanding of how to be considerate.
In the end, after all these years, reaching such an age, it was only him and Susan Kensington.
Only Susan Kensington stayed faithfully by his side no matter what.
Rhoda Kensington watched the change in Vincent Hawthorne’s expression, took a small sigh of relief, and said no more. Instead, she brought a plate of fruit and snacks to place beside Vincent Hawthorne before quietly retreating.
Clang, clang, clang— This update is available on novel·fire.net
Not until the clock struck midnight at twelve did Vincent Hawthorne snap out of it. He downed the cold tea in his hand in one gulp and headed upstairs.
The bedroom door was ajar, with bright light streaming through the crack, and before he got close, he heard gentle comforting voices from within the room.
It was Rhoda Kensington softly comforting Susan Kensington.
Speaking kind words about him, one by one.
Vincent Hawthorne halted his steps.
He didn’t knock but stood silently at the door, listening.
Listening to his wife’s sobs, voicing her grievances, and hearing that young girl, whom he had never paid attention to, tirelessly comforting his wife’s sorrows.
After a good while, the door opened, and Rhoda Kensington walked out of the room. Seeing Vincent Hawthorne standing at the door, she was momentarily stunned, seemingly not expecting him to return so soon.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, her cheeks reddened slightly, she softly called out, "Uncle."
"Hmm." Vincent Hawthorne nodded slightly and then suddenly said, "Rhoda, you’re very good."
Rhoda Kensington was momentarily taken aback, then quickly smiled, her eyes bright and cheerful.
Vincent Hawthorne watched Rhoda Kensington’s lighthearted steps as she walked away, shaking his head with an amused smile, "Such a child."
Even her happiness is so simple.
Unexpectedly, the conversation he had with Susan Kensington about choosing a wife for Elias Hawthorne surfaced in his mind.
Susan Kensington had said that Rhoda was wonderful, only she was her niece, and Elias would never accept her.
At the time, he didn’t care; how could a daughter from a declining family like The Kensington Family, which barely counted as scholarly, match his most proud son?
However, now he suddenly felt a pang of regret, why did she have to be a Kensington girl?
Such a good child, if only she had a better background, she would be a perfect match for Elias.