"Ethan really wants a divorce?" Grandpa Hai raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but skeptical.
Hailey Tang nodded seriously. "Yeah. I do too. We both do."
Grandpa Hai gave her a strange look. "If that's true, then why was the first thing he did after coming home… climbing into your bed?"
"He probably came to get my signature. We already agreed—once he came back, we'd file the paperwork." Hailey spoke with confidence, though her tone had a slight edge of hesitation.
The old man tapped his teacup thoughtfully. "Let's wait until he wakes up. Talk properly."
"I can wake him up now."
"No need." Grandpa Hai waved her off. "He's been working nonstop for days. Let the man sleep. Show a little compassion."
Hailey pouted but relented. "Fine."
"Go help with dinner then. Ethan's staying the night. Tell the kitchen to make something good."
Hailey didn't argue. She headed for the kitchen and started giving instructions. Cooking wasn't her thing, but she knew how to order a meal like a general commanding troops. She picked out all of Ethan's favorite dishes—crispy duck, braised short ribs, steamed crab, even that weird sea cucumber soup he liked when he was sick.
If tonight really was their last dinner as a married couple, she figured she might as well let him go with a satisfied stomach.
Ethan didn't wake up until it was almost dark. He even took a shower in her bathroom, like he owned the place. Hailey heard the water running and rolled her eyes hard enough to strain a muscle.
Whatever, she told herself. He's leaving soon anyway. Let him enjoy the last shower he'll ever take in this house.
When dinner was ready, the table looked like something out of a food magazine. Grandpa Hai beamed with satisfaction.
"Ethan," he said warmly, "I hope the food's to your liking. I didn't know what you'd want, but Hailey arranged the whole menu."
Ethan looked around the table, then smiled faintly. "Actually, almost everything here is something I love."
Grandpa Hai chuckled. "See? She still knows your taste. That means something."
Hailey sipped her soup in silence. It doesn't mean anything. It's just familiarity. Like muscle memory. Definitely not sentiment.
Ethan picked up his chopsticks and tasted a bite. "It's really good. Thanks."
Grandpa Hai raised his wine glass. "Then eat more. And have a drink with your old man."
"Sure," Ethan replied, lifting his glass to toast.
The two men started chatting, laughing, and clinking glasses. They talked about business, politics, even the recent chess tournament on TV—anything and everything except the one topic Hailey was actually waiting for: the divorce.
She sat there, stewing in silence, watching the food disappear from the plates while her patience vanished with it.
Come on, you two. Wrap it up already so we can talk about the paperwork.
But Grandpa Hai looked so happy, so genuinely relaxed, that she didn't have the heart to interrupt. Fine, she sighed internally. After dinner. I'll give you your moment. Then we talk.
After dinner, just as Hailey stood up to start the conversation, Grandpa Hai gestured toward the living room.
"Let's have some tea," he said. "Digest a bit."
Hailey nearly groaned. More delays?
But she followed them into the living room anyway, settling into the couch while Grandpa Hai poured three cups of fragrant oolong.
After a few sips, he finally brought it up. "Ethan, I know I'm just an old man and maybe I shouldn't meddle, but I have to ask—did something happen between you and Hailey while you were in New York?"
Ethan went quiet. He stared into his tea for a moment before answering. "Something did happen. And yes, it was my fault."
"What happened exactly?" Grandpa Hai pressed gently.
Ethan didn't reply right away. Instead, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small velvet box.
He handed it to Hailey. "This is for you."
Hailey blinked, confused. "What is it?"
"Open it and see."
Still frowning, she slowly opened the box… and nearly dropped it in surprise.
Inside was a diamond ring. Not just any ring—a huge, elegant, obviously-expensive piece of jewelry that sparkled like it had its own spotlight.
Hailey gawked. "Why are you giving me this?"
Ethan leaned back, his expression calm but sincere. "I promised I'd take you to that bidding event, and I didn't keep my word. That was wrong of me. This ring is a gift. A way to say I'm sorry—for breaking that promise, and for everything else that happened."
He paused, then added quietly, "It's also a reward. For everything you did while I was away. I didn't forget."
Hailey's fingers tightened around the box. Her heart felt like it had tripped over itself. This wasn't the reaction she'd prepared for. She was expecting resistance, excuses, maybe a passive-aggressive shrug—not this.
She looked at the ring again.
It was beautiful. Too beautiful. And dangerously persuasive.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Ethan didn't press further. He just waited.
Across from them, Grandpa Hai sipped his tea, eyes twinkling with something like amusement—and hope.