Chapter 717
The Langford patriarch had already been discharged from the hospital. Victoria had assured them it was nothing serious, but at his advanced age, he was frail. The slightest issue seemed to land him back in the hospital, and he'd been in and out several times recently.
When Gwyneth saw him, Thorpe Langford was resting in a lounge chair in the garden. Thankfully, the weather in Starfall City was much warmer than in Greenvale. While people in Greenvale were still bundled in heavy sweaters, here it was warm enough for short sleeves. The household staff was clearly taking excellent care of him; he looked clean and comfortable in a crisp linen shirt.
"Patriarch, Miss Gwyneth is here," the butler announced softly.
Thorpe Langford slowly opened his eyes, and his face lit up when he saw Gwyneth standing before him.
"Gwyn..." he murmured, calling his favorite great-granddaughter by her nickname as he reached out a trembling hand.
Gwyneth rushed forward and took it. "Grandfather, I'm back. Hawthorne came with me to see you. Are you alright?"
It was obvious Thorpe's health had declined significantly. His once-full cheeks were now sunken, and his voice lacked its former vigor. "You're back, Gwyn. Just seeing you gives me strength. What could be wrong with me? I feel like I could still wrestle a bear."
As soon as he finished speaking, he was seized by a violent coughing fit. Gwyneth immediately moved to support him while servants rushed over, ne offering water, another gently patting his back
"Grandfather, look at you! You can barely speak without getting winded, and you say you're fine."
Tears welled in Gwyneth's eyes. She felt so selfish. What if she had impulsively told her mother she wanted a divorce? How
disappointed he would have been.
Thorpe waved his hand dismissively, his expression full of love as he looked at Gwyneth, then at
Hawthorne with clear satisfaction. "This is what happens when you get old, my dear. Everyone reaches this day. Don't be sad for me. Besides, I'm still here, aren't I?"
His attempt at reassurance only made her tears fall faster. Hawthorne gently put an arm around her shoulders. Gwyneth's first instinct was to pull away, but with her grandfather watching, she knew it would reveal the truth of their situation. She leaned into the embrace, forcing a smile.
"You two will be holding your wedding soon," Thorpe said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Before that, you should go to the hospital and see your father-in-law." It was a subject no one dared broach in his presence lately, and he was clearly suppressing his own grief.
"Yes, sir,” Hawthorne replied respectfully, addressing Thorpe's command. His formal, deferential tone pleased the old man, reminding him of his own grandson's respectful demeanor years ago.
Gwyneth remained quiet in
Hawthorne's arms, playing the part of a loving fiancée for her
grandfather's sake. "I'll take Gwynet
there now," Hawthorne promised. Thorpe gently patted Gwyneth's hand his eyes filled with affection. "Go on, then. Let your father see that his favorite daughter has truly grown up."
He watched them leave together, and as the door closed behind them, he shut his eyes. A single tear escaped the corner of his wrinkled eye and traced a silent path down his cheek. If he had one last wish before he died, it was to see his son, McNeil, wake up.