Contract Marriage starring Love and Revenge
Chapter 108. A visit from grandpa.

Chapter 108: 108. A visit from grandpa.

That has to be it. Aunt Evelyn must have blackmailed Languine with something. I wonder what it was. What could it be?

"I think I should meet Languine."

"Do you think you can?" Duke asks.

"I should."

"I don’t want you to rush into anything. If you think you can’t handle it right now, we can always wait forr now and act later."

"Dont worry Duke, I think I’ll be fine. The truth is I want to confront aunt Evelyn right now about this, but that will only be foolish and rash. So I’ll just meet with Languine instead. I think I can convince him to tell me the truth."

"Alright. If you believe you can, then do it." He says

"I really wonder what my aunt could have on attorney Languine."

That night, maybe because I felt guilty, or maybe it was because we talked about grandpa before I finally fell asleep, I’m not certain why but...

I had a dream.

For the first time in a long time...

I saw grandpa.

Sitting in his favorite chair in the balcony of his room, he always loved to gaze at his land from that place. He said it brought him peace to just sit there and lazily stare into space.

He used to say sitting there like that made him forget that he was a man with many burdens on his shoulders, many lives hanging on his own life and many mouths he had to feed. Sitting there made him feel like he was a simple man, not a wealthy owner of a thriving business. It made him feel at peace with himself.

He really loved sitting there while sipping freshly squeezed orange juice which was his favorite kind of juice. From what I was told, this is where he had died.

In his favorite chair, next to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and the view before him. He had breathed his last before he could even finish his juice.

At least he died in a place and manner that always made him happy.

I’m walking towards him, the back of his gray head is facing me and from where I stand, I watch him pick his glass, sip from it and places it back on the table.

"Are you just going to watch me from afar or you’re going to come join you old man?" Like always, I can never sneak up on him... Not even in my own dream.

Grandpa, he must hate me. He must be disappointed that I could not figure out that there was no way he would take my hard work away from me. No way he would leave me with nothing.

He must be disappointed that I had no faith in him.

"You know I don’t like people hovering behind me like a ghost My fine Champagne," He’s still the same. Even in my dream. Indeed he always hated it when people hovered around him and he always referred to me as his fine champagne whenever I was feeling down.

He hasn’t changed.

"Grandpa. I_I’m too ashamed to stand in front of you." I say.

"Why would you be ashamed to face your grandpa?" He asks.

"Because deep down, I’ve been cursing and swearing at you thinking you took away all I worked for." A soft chuckle followed by a little cough and then the sound of his laughter quelling.

"Really?" He seems amused.

"Really." I nod as though he can see me even when I’m standing behind him.

"B_But after realizing that your will was altered, I realized that there was only one sensible reason unt Evelyn would go to such lengths as to alter your will. And that is you must have left something substantial for me and she couldn’t bear to see me take it."

"You are a smart girl. So are you here to ask for my forgiveness?" He asks.

This is a dream. There are times when you’re in a dream and you can’t tell that it’s a dream but there are other times where you know very well that you’re in a dream. This is one of those times.

I know I’m in a dream right now, and I know asking forgiveness here is just a cowardly act, but this dream might be the closest I get to talk to him again...

"I’m sorry grandpa." I say. "I’m sorry I haven’t paid you a visit all this while because I was wrongly angry with you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t figure it out earlier that aunt Evelyn had done something fishy. And I’m so sorry for being angry with you. Please forgive me."

I can’t bring myself to face him. But I can at least beg in this manner.

What follows my pleas is silence. Calmly, quietly, his head remains facing the same direction. The cool night wind blowing hasn’t changed. It’s still slow and calm and this calmness of this night is making me think back to all the good, good memories I have with this man on the balcony.

He was sitting right here the first time I had brought my proposal for Gold foods to him and he had turned me down. I remember crying and begging, but he told me to go and work on my proposal again. Then I was disappointed that he had rejected my proposal, but now I think of it as a fond memory.

It was in this very same place I had happily flaunted the first investment deal I scored for Gold foods.

I have pleasant memories here. If I even go back farther, I remember finding peace here as a child. Whenever he was in town and not on one of his many business trips, I’d leave my aunts house where I was staying and spend my days with him and we’d sit together for hours doing nothing but staring into space while sipping freshly squeezed orange juice.

Seriously, how could I let anger cloud my mind and blur out all the good times I had with grandpa? How could I not figure it out on my own that something wasn’t right?

How could I easily believe that he would do something like that to me?

Champagne, you’re such a terrible human being.

"Are you just going to continue standing there, scolding yourself?" He finally speaks again.

"Come and have some juice," slowly he turns and there’s a big bright familiar smile on his face, one that I’m now realizing I’ve missed a lot, "it’s freshly squeezed." His smile broadens as he says those words in that familiar playful tone and I can’t hold back the chuckle that escapes my throat as I wipe the tears from my eyes.

"You’re not mad at me?" I ask.

"Who can stay mad at such sweet Champagne?" He asks and gestures with his head that I should come sit with him.

"Truly?" I ask and he nods.

"Come on, come and tell this old man all about that rascal that has stolen you completely."

Who is he talking about? Could it be—

"Yes. That gray-eyed fellow who keeps seducing you."

"Duke?!" I say and without any further cajoling, I move my feet and walk to the sit next to him.

And I started to tell him all about Duke from how we met to how he had proposed to me and how he seduced me. Then we talked about the twins and unlike when I was talking about Duke, talking about the twins made grandpa smile endlessly.

From the twins I went back to talking about Duke. I told him about how Duke appeared in church and announced I was his wife, I showed him my wedding ring.

After which I told him about Duke’s family and how well they treat me and he says, "Of course they will treat you well, their rascal of a son is married to my smart, beautiful, intelligent, granddaughter who lacks nothing at all. If they don’t treat you right, I will haunt them all."

I told him how I was doing and how much I liked my life now more than when I was with Rowan.

"My fine Champagne, don’t hate your cousin so much."He had said when I started talking about the things Alicia did to me. "It’s not her fault that she turned out this way, she just didn’t have someone to put her on the right path. If only Evelyn was a better mother to Alicia, things wouldn’t have been like this. And if only I was a better father to my dear Evie, she wouldn’t have grown up with so much jealousy and hatred. So ultimately, if a tree is bad, the root probably has some fault, so the fault falls back to me." Is what he had said.

I understand what grandpa is saying but, can you really blame everything on the root? If a stem from a tree is bent, will you really say the whole fault goes to the root?

What if the stem is just too stubborn and refuses to grow in the path laid out for it? How can you blame everything on the root?

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