Chapter 10 #3
"Dad?" I whispered instantly, lifting my head.
"I'm still here, Gracie," he rasped, smiling a weak, sad smile.
Fresh tears immediately filled my eyes. Without caring about the IV lines or the monitors, I leaned forward and hugged him as carefully as I could.
"You terrified me," I sobbed into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"You don't get to do that again."
"I'll do my absolute best."
I pulled back just enough to look at his pale, exhausted face.
Then... very quietly, my voice trembling... I spoke.
"About what we discussed the other night."
Dad closed his eyes. He already knew.
He hadn't asked me to marry the General because he wanted to control my life. He had asked me because he was absolutely terrified. Terrified of leaving his shy, twenty-two-year-old daughter behind in a cruel world without anyone to protect her.
I looked at the man who had spent his entire life loving me without fail. The man who had learned how to braid my hair and cook chicken stew after my mother died, just so I would always feel safe. The man who had never, ever stopped putting me first.
A massive lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down.
"If..." I whispered, my voice breaking. "If I agree..."
Dad immediately shook his head against the pillows. "No. Grace, no. Not out of guilt."
I smiled through my falling tears. "I know."
A long, heavy silence passed between us. The only sound was the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor.
Finally, I nodded once. A decisive, absolute nod.
"I'll do it."
Dad stared at me, his eyes instantly welling with tears. "Gracie, you don't have to."
"I know." I squeezed his hand fiercely. "But I want you to stop worrying about me. I want you to rest."
"My little girl..." he sobbed quietly.
I laughed a weak, wet laugh. "I haven't been little for years, Dad."
"You will always be my little girl."
**(Third-Person POV)**
At the Reeves Estate, the night was pitch black.
Alexander stood outside Eleanor’s grand suite after finishing another grueling, fourteen-hour day at headquarters.
He knocked gently on the heavy wood.
"Come in."
He stepped inside. Eleanor was sitting up in bed, looking frail but elegant. She smiled the absolute moment she saw him.
"My handsome grandson."
"You flatter me," Alexander replied bluntly, pulling up a chair beside her bed.
"I simply tell the truth."
For a while, they just talked. About the estate gardens. About the weather. Eleanor even complained that Henri, the head chef, had entirely ruined an old family soup recipe.
Alexander listened patiently. The rigid, terrifying General of the Armed Forces was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, dutiful grandson who occasionally smiled at her complaints.
Then... Eleanor’s smile faded.
"Alexander."
"Hm?"
"I heard what your father asked of you."
Alexander didn't answer. His jaw tightened instantly.
She reached out across the blankets for his large hand. "I know you said no."
"I did."
She nodded slowly. "I understand."
Alexander looked mildly surprised. "You do?"
"You have carried the crushing weight of responsibilities your entire life," she said gently, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "You serve your country. So, I will not ask you to do this."
Her voice suddenly trembled.
"But..."
Tears slowly, quietly gathered in her sharp eyes.
Alexander’s expression shifted instantly. seeing his grandmother cry—a woman made of steel and elegance—physically hurt him.
"If this old woman has one, final, selfish wish..." Eleanor whispered, her voice cracking.
"Grandmother," Alexander warned softly, his chest tight.
"I would like to know that when I am gone..." She looked up at him, a single tear rolling down her wrinkled cheek. "...you will not come home to a cold, empty house every night."
Alexander reached out, his calloused thumb gently wiping the tear from her cheek.
She smiled a devastatingly sad smile. "I have never asked you for anything, Alexander."
"No. You haven't."
"I am asking now."
The grand bedroom fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Alexander lowered his head. He stared at the floor. For the first time in years, the great, uncompromising General had absolutely no tactical answer. He couldn't fight her. He couldn't order her tears away.
After several long, agonizing moments...
Alexander slowly lifted his head. His gray eyes were entirely resolute.
"...I will do it."
Eleanor closed her eyes in profound relief, letting out a shaky sob before pulling him into a gentle embrace.
"Thank you, my boy."
Alexander hugged her carefully.
He didn't agree because he wanted a contract marriage. He agreed because he simply could not bear to deny the wish of the woman who had raised him like a mother.
Some promises are made from love.
Others... are made from sacrifice
***
"Sometimes love doesn't begin with romance... sometimes it begins with sacrifice. ????"
Would you have made the same decision as Grace or Alexander? Tell me below in the comments!
Mwaah Lovelies!
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