Regret Came Too Late (Grace and Ethan) novel Chapter 452

Grace sat quietly in Ethan's car, a strange sense of unease settling in her chest.

Ever since Daphne died, it felt like she'd been caught in a web, and someone was pulling the strings.

The car stopped at Palm Bay. She didn't get out right away. After a few minutes of hesitation, she asked, "Mr. Henderson, are you planning to question me about what happened to Daphne?"

After all, Simon had clearly intended to pin it all on her tonight. If Holden brought her here instead, there had to be a reason, right? But she couldn't figure out what.

Ethan had already lowered his wheelchair from the car. He paused at her question, his expression unreadable. Then, without saying a word, he continued moving forward.

Grace had no choice but to follow him.

They went all the way to his bedroom door. She hesitated for a moment before slowly stepping inside.

The same magnolias were still in a vase by the headboard. Somehow, they still looked fresh, like they'd just been picked. They must've been treated with some kind of preservation technique.

She was about to ask him about the magnolias when his phone rang.

Ethan answered with his usual calm, but his tone had a sharp edge. "I'm busy. I won't be there tomorrow night."

Grace immediately figured it out. Every year, the Henderson family would be swamped around Christmas time. As the heir, Ethan had to handle all sorts of matters. He had to have a lot on his plate.

Call after call came in. He spent the next 30 minutes straight on the phone.

Grace didn't feel right sitting down, so she just stood quietly off to the side.

Finally, an hour later, he ended the last call and looked up at her. "Simon will take care of Daphne's case."

Which meant it was no longer her problem.

Grace finally let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. But she couldn't figure out why Ethan was helping her.

Even she, dense as she could be sometimes, had started to catch on. Since the moment she lost her memory, Ethan had been stepping in to help her—again and again.

Her eyes drifted to his wheelchair. A question she had been holding back for a long time finally slipped out. "Mr. Henderson, about your legs… Have you really never blamed me for what happened?"

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