The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 103

Henry remained silent, his eyes revealing nothing as he stared into the distance, leaving my question unanswered between us. The weight of unspoken truths pressed down on both of us, making the room feel smaller with each passing second.

I was beginning to regret asking the question. I no longer had any illusions about my marriage, so what difference would an answer make? Ending this relationship was already a foregone conclusion.

Catherine's voice broke the moment.

"Henry, are you in there?" she called from the hallway. "Grace is here to apologize to Sophia, just like you said."

I immediately scrambled off Henry's lap, straightening my clothes and creating distance between us. By the time Catherine and Grace entered the room, I was standing behind Henry's chair, acting as though nothing had happened between us.

Grace's face was a mess—eyes red and swollen, clear evidence she'd been crying for hours. She shot me a vicious glare before quickly averting her gaze when Henry turned to look at her. Head bowed, she refused to meet either of our eyes.

Honestly, I thought Henry was joking when he said Grace would apologize. The Harding family princess humbling herself before me with an apology? Frankly, this was a scenario I couldn't even imagine.

Yet here she was, standing before me with her mother's hand resting on her shoulder.

Henry positioned himself like a shield between Grace and me, his eyes sharply observing his sister's every move.

I wondered why he was being so protective. Was he genuinely concerned for my safety, or was this just a game to establish his authority in front of his family members?

If reconciliation was the goal—if Henry simply wanted to prevent his sister from facing criminal charges—he could have easily silenced me. Why force Grace to endure this public humiliation?

A ridiculous thought crossed my mind—could Henry actually be defending me?

Grace stubbornly refused to speak, and the silence made everyone uncomfortable. Henry's brow furrowed with annoyance.

Catherine, sensing her son's growing impatience, quickly intervened.

"Henry, dear," she said with a nervous laugh, "you must understand that Grace has never apologized to anyone before. This is a challenge for her! She just needs a little time to adjust, that's all."

Catherine turned to her daughter, urgently whispering in her ear. After what appeared to be an internal struggle, Grace finally looked up, resentment flashing in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she spat, the words sounding more like a threat than an apology.

I turned away, making no effort to hide my contempt. With that hostile expression and venomous tone, she might as well have been threatening me again. There wasn't a trace of genuine remorse in her entire demeanor.

Henry was clearly displeased as well, his jaw tightening as he observed his sister's performance.

Grace seemed surprised by my reaction—or rather, my lack of one. She had clearly expected me to eagerly accept her half-hearted apology, perhaps even expressing gratitude that the great Grace Harding had deigned to address me at all.

Instead, I simply stood there, silently watching her, showing no intention of forgiving her.

Catherine, always the peacemaker when it came to her daughter, jumped in again. "There now, apology made! All water under the bridge, right?"

Before I could point out that Grace hadn't shown a shred of sincerity, Henry spoke up.

"You call that an apology?" he asked coldly, his gaze fixed on his sister.

His words surprised me. Henry wasn't blind—he must have seen the hatred in Grace's eyes, the complete lack of remorse in her expression.

Grace looked at her brother in disbelief. "Henry! I already apologized! What more do you want?"

When Henry remained unmoved, she continued, "Why are you so eager to defend her? Aren't you worried Isabella will be upset? Why are you suddenly taking Sophia's side?"

I never expected Henry to speak up for me. Henry's cold gaze pierced into Grace.

Grace flinched under his intense stare, finally recognizing the danger in her brother's expression. She sighed and turned to me again.

"Sophia," she began, her voice strained but more controlled, "I sincerely apologize for my behavior earlier. Threatening you and Billy with a knife was inexcusable. I lost control of my emotions and acted inappropriately. It won't happen again. I hope you can forgive me."

After these words, she bowed deeply.

The sight of high-and-mighty Grace actually bowing her head to me in apology gave me a sense of unreality about this absurd scene.

I stole a glance at Henry, whose flawless skin showed no visible pores, his high cheekbones and defined jawline creating shadows in the dim light. Even after five years of marriage, his beauty sometimes still caught me off guard.

Henry seemed moderately satisfied with Grace's performance, though his expression remained stern. "Your apology may have saved you from prison," he declared, "but you will still be confined to the reflection room. No visitors—not even Mother—until you fully recognize your own mistakes."

His eyes flickered toward me, clearly waiting for my approval. I gave a slight nod, and Grace visibly relaxed.

"Henry," she pleaded, looking at her brother, "Sophia has accepted my apology. Do I really need to be locked away? I'm afraid to be alone."

That false reverence—she couldn't maintain the act for even a second. The moment she thought she was safe, her true nature surfaced.

Disgusted, I turned and walked toward the door without a word.

"Henry!" Grace's voice rose behind me. "Look at her! She completely disrespects me! I apologized, and she just walks away without accepting it? How dare she!"

I continued walking, not looking back.

"That bitch is so arrogant," Grace continued, her voice growing louder. "She thinks she's better than all of us now. That worthless tramp—"

"Grace!" Henry's voice cut off her insults. "Enough. You're going too far."

I paused at the doorway, curious despite myself.

"Sophia is my wife," Henry said coldly. "Watch your language."

Grace's expression was as if she'd been slapped. "She's the one who made you and Isabella separate for all these years! Shouldn't you hate Sophia? Why are you defending her?"

Her voice took on an accusing tone. "I think I know what's happening. You've actually fallen for her, haven't you? You've fallen in love with Sophia!"

These words echoed in the quiet room.

I couldn't see Henry's face, but I saw his body tense, his shoulders stiffening at the accusation.

Love? The suggestion itself was absurd. Henry Harding in love with me? Impossible.

Yet, in that moment, I found myself holding my breath, waiting for his response.