The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 151

"If one gift doesn't work, you give two. If two don't work, you give three. You keep giving until the girl isn't mad anymore!" Billy continued, sounding like a miniature relationship guru.

I stared at my son, not knowing whether to be impressed or concerned. Where had he learned this? His confident explanation about how to win a woman over was both adorable and slightly alarming.

"And where did you hear this wisdom, young man?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual while shooting a suspicious glance at Henry.

Billy grinned proudly. "Aunt Betty told me! She said that's how all the boys get girls to like them."

I ruffled Billy's hair, unable to hide my smile. "Is that so? And what else did Aunt Betty teach you about girls?"

"She said girls like surprises and pretty things," Billy replied matter-of-factly. "And that you should never, ever forget birthdays or special days."

I couldn't hold back my laughter. "Wow, you're quite the little expert now, aren't you?"

Billy's face lit up with pure delight at my reaction. He darted over to me, wrapping his tiny arms around my waist. "Don't worry, Mom, I'm never going to make you mad. I promise!"

I bent down to his level, gently pinching his chubby cheek. "You, my little smarty-pants, are too clever for your own good!"

William watched our interaction with undisguised pleasure, clearly adoring his great-grandson more by the minute. "Come here, my treasure," he called to Billy, who happily bounded over to him.

As Billy ran off to play, William's expression soured when his gaze landed on Henry, who was awkwardly attempting to skewer meat onto metal rods for the barbecue.

"Are you dead inside?" William hissed at his grandson, his voice low enough that Billy couldn't hear but loud enough to make Henry freeze mid-motion.

"You've got such a wonderful wife and you're throwing it all away for that calculating woman!" William continued, his disappointment evident. "Even your five-year-old son understands what women want better than you do! Gifts! Didn't you hear the boy? He spelled it out for you!"

Henry's eyes widened with sudden comprehension. Without another word, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"James," he said urgently into the phone, "I need you here right now. Bring... options."

Within what seemed like mere minutes, James pulled up to the villa in a sleek black SUV. He wasn't alone. A parade of people followed him—fashion designers carrying mannequins dressed in evening gowns that sparkled in the sunlight, assistants with trays of designer accessories, and others holding luxury handbags.

The extravagant display was arranged before me like a private fashion show. Henry stood beside it all, his face wearing a smug expression.

"Go ahead," he encouraged, gesturing grandly at the collection. "Choose whatever you like."

His voice was filled with self-satisfaction. If Isabella received these gifts, she would jump into his arms with joy. Clearly, he believed all women were the same—easily placated with expensive trinkets.

I deliberately ignored him, continuing to chop vegetables with methodical precision.

"You know what I really need right now?" I asked casually, not bothering to look up from my task.

Henry's brow furrowed in confusion. "None of these suit your taste?"

Instead of answering, I called out, "Billy!"

My son came running immediately, holding a simple white apron with blue trim. He handed it to me with a giggle, then turned to his father with an exaggerated eye roll.

"Dad, you're so silly!" he laughed. "Mom needs an apron for cooking, not dresses!"

Henry's face fell. He completely failed to understand what I truly needed at that moment!

He shot James an accusatory glare before waving his hand dismissively, signaling for everything to be taken away.

Meanwhile, at the hospital across town, Isabella paced restlessly in her new room. She'd changed hospitals to escape William's influence, but the accommodations were noticeably less luxurious. More importantly, she felt Henry slipping away.

The calls between them had changed dramatically. Henry's once warm, attentive tone had been replaced with curt responses and long silences. Today was Saturday—he should have been visiting her, not ignoring her calls.

Her frustration mounting, Isabella grabbed her phone and dialed Henry's number again. And again. And again.

Back at the villa, Henry's phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket. After his gift disaster, his mood had soured considerably. When he glanced at the caller ID and saw Isabella's name flashing, he didn't hesitate to switch the phone to silent and shove it back into his pocket.

William, ever observant, noticed his grandson's reaction. "Is that woman calling?" he asked pointedly. "Why aren't you answering?"

Henry stared at his phone as it continued to vibrate silently. Ever since he'd confronted Isabella about those photos she'd sent to Sophia, his feelings toward her had shifted dramatically.

This woman he once thought was pure and innocent had manipulated him repeatedly.

The night she'd sneaked into his bed at Maple Grove, orchestrating a scenario where the entire household would discover them together—he hadn't understood her motives at the time. Now, it was crystal clear. Isabella had been using him callously, without consideration for the consequences.

All that remained of his feelings for her was a sense of obligation. Any genuine affection had withered away.

"I don't want to talk to her," Henry finally replied to his grandfather.

William studied his grandson's face, recognizing the change in his attitude. "Let me ask you something," he said carefully. "Did Isabella tell you I forced her to leave the city? That I opposed your relationship because I didn't want you marrying a commoner?"

Henry thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, that's exactly what she said."

William shook his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. "And you believed her so easily?"

"Henry," William continued, "when you were so terribly ill, if you had asked for the moon from the sky, I would have found a way to get it for you. How could something as simple as marriage be an obstacle?"

The truth was that William had disliked Isabella from their first meeting. Though she presented herself as gentle and innocent, always smiling sweetly and acting graciously, William's experienced eyes had seen through her facade immediately, recognizing the calculation behind her charm.

He revealed to Henry how he'd discovered Isabella's true nature. "This happened a week before you said you'd bring your girlfriend home," William explained.

He recounted how he'd been exercising in the park when he suddenly felt dizzy. A pretty young woman appeared, offering him heart medication, claiming she could recognize the symptoms of a heart attack.

"She introduced herself as Isabella Scott, saying she was just being a good Samaritan," William continued. "But something felt off. Your girlfriend had the same name, so I had Mark follow her."

Mark's investigation revealed that Isabella had been waiting in the park deliberately, that the "chance" meeting had been carefully staged. She'd even been spotted holding hands with another man afterward.

"Do you still think she's innocent and without ulterior motives?" William asked, watching his grandson's face closely.

Henry sat in stunned silence. For years, he'd believed his grandfather had cruelly separated him from the woman he loved. Their relationship had deteriorated severely because of it, only somewhat improving after Sophia entered their lives.

Now, learning that everything he'd believed was false, Henry felt as if he'd been plunged into an icy abyss. This realization was too much to bear, his chest tightening painfully.

I noticed the change in Henry immediately—his face had gone deathly pale, his breathing becoming shallow and irregular. I rushed to his side, quickly retrieving the medication from his jacket pocket and pressing it to his lips.

He swallowed obediently, then slumped against me, his eyes tightly closed, his face as white as paper.

I cradled his head in my lap. His breathing gradually steadied, but his grip on my hand remained firm, unwilling to let go.

After a while, Henry's eyes fluttered open, looking directly into mine with an intensity that made my heart skip. His voice was barely above a whisper, fragile yet determined.

"Come back to me, will you?"