"That's true," Ethan Ellsworth said comfortingly. "It's been so long. She's probably married by now."
Quentin Grant got up. "Let's go. Time to head back. It's deafening in here."
The two left together and returned to the Grant Residence.
Jean Grant was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, peeling an apple. Mrs. Grant came out of the kitchen carrying a glass of milk. When she saw her son was back, she sat on the sofa and said, "Quentin, I need to ask you something."
Quentin Grant and Ethan Ellsworth sat down on the sofa. Quentin rubbed his aching temples and asked unhurriedly, "What is it?"
"Your grandfather is about to set a date for the wedding. You two are going for your wedding photoshoot tomorrow, so where do you plan on having your newlywed home?"
He answered almost without hesitation. "The old place."
Noticing the change in Mrs. Grant's expression, Yvette Paige added, "I'm used to living there. I don't want to move to a new place."
Mrs. Grant didn't object. "If you want to live there, then I'll have people go and get things arranged. It should be festive. This is a wedding, after all. We can't have it looking shabby. Should all the furniture be replaced?"
A faint smile touched Quentin Grant's lips. "Replace it. Of course, we'll replace it. A new marriage should have a fresh start. Every piece of furniture inside gets replaced. And get rid of all the roses in the yard. Replant it with lilies."
Mrs. Grant was pleased with her son's attitude. Regarding that woman, Catherine Callahan, she had initially thought she was a nice girl. She never expected her to just leave so suddenly. After she left, there was no word from her for years.
"Good. I'll send people over to the house tomorrow to get things arranged."
Quentin, however, waved his hand dismissively. "Mom, there's no need to rush the wedding."
Mrs. Grant was taken aback. "The engagement was set years ago. The Ainsworths said Sharon could marry in at twenty-three, but wasn't that just them giving our family a way to save face? Your grandfather put his foot down tonight. The wedding must be held in the coming days."
"I can do the photoshoot first, but the wedding can't happen just yet. Mom, you wouldn't want a daughter-in-law with poor character, would you?"
Mrs. Grant frowned. Looking at her son's face, she seemed to understand him in an instant. "I've heard things about the Ainsworths' daughter, and I've made some inquiries. From what I hear, she's a very nice girl."
"I have my own plans. Mom, why don't you go upstairs and rest? It's late."
"Alright."
Once Mrs. Grant was gone, the atmosphere grew cold. Ethan Ellsworth nudged Quentin with his elbow. "I'm going to head back now."
Quentin Grant looked over at Jean Grant. "Go see him out."
He'd always known Ethan Ellsworth had feelings for his sister. It was a classic case of unrequited love; the playboy had feelings, but the woman he wanted wasn't interested.
Jean Grant snorted without even looking up. "What, did he forget his own legs? Why should I see him out?"
A flicker of disappointment crossed Ethan Ellsworth's eyes, but he refused to back down. "There are plenty of girls who would love to see me off. You wouldn't even make the list."
Jean's face went cold. "Get lost, big shot."
Ethan Ellsworth left with a nonchalant smile, but the moment he stepped out the main gate, it froze on his face. He stared up at the night sky, a look of profound loss washing over him.
"Jean, Ethan really cares about you."
Jean Grant dismissed her brother's words. "He might care about me, but I don't care about him. He's a playboy. Any woman who falls for him must be blind."
"I know what kind of person Ethan is. He may seem that way on the surface, but he's actually very thoughtful."
"You don't have to say any more, big brother. There's no spark between us. He can go after whoever he wants, it's none of my business. As long as he stays away from me, I'm happy."
Quentin Grant lowered his voice. "Jean, plenty of women would kill for a man like Ethan, yet you're completely hung up on that good-for-nothing poor kid. What on earth are you thinking?"