Capturing the Millionaire’s Heart on Divorce Day

Chapter 0202

Sometimes, we disdain spending time on seemingly trivial matters. We think they are not cost- effective, not worth the effort, or simply boring.

Yet love is built from these inconsequential trifles.

And just as these can build love, they can also break it.

For someone like Madison, focused on her career, she might have thought such matters insignificant. But when she heard that slight hint of grievance in Ethan's voice, she suddenly felt that nothing was a waste if it was for him.

So she came.

In the wee hours, she had driven to him.

Separated by a wall and a pane of glass, they gazed at each other from afar.

The dim, bright light enveloped Madison's figure, making her glow with a golden light, as if Mrs. Snow had sent a treasure to Earth, which, by fortune, had landed right at Ethan's doorstep.

Seconds later, Ethan snapped back to reality, quickly pulled out a thick coat from the wardrobe, changed his trousers, and hurried down the stairs.

By the guidance of Assistant William, the servants, who were preparing Mr. Grant's late-night snack, were perplexed.

Where was Mr. Grant rushing to at such an hour?

He couldn't drive after drinking.

The driver, who hastily followed, quickly retreated with understanding.

Brother Jia adjusted his glasses, addressing everyone, "Rest up for the night. Keep the snacks warm. The master is outside with his girlfriend."

The servants instantly understood, quieting their movements, fearing they might disturb those outside...

Upon running out, Ethan swiftly approached Madison, pulling her fiercely into his embrace.

The air wasn't cold when it first began to snow; instead, it was warmly comforting.

Madison looked up at him with a smile, her chin resting on his shoulder, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had neglected you so severely. I'll make amends. Can you accept that?"

"You don't have to apologize," Ethan held her tightly, his palms rubbing her back.

His voice was low, tinged with unspoken emotions.

Madison persisted, "I should apologize. You've been so good to me, maintaining everything to the best of your ability, and I've completely overlooked you. You must be unhappy. It's my fault. Forgive me this once, I'll adjust."

She was earnestly expressing her regret to Ethan.

And Ethan was earnestly, very earnestly, containing his emotions.

What emotions?

Those long-absent feelings.

Because he had grown accustomed to being ignored by others, only Michael occasionally asked how he was but never delved deep.

Everyone took for granted his strength, assuming he could withstand all emotional turmoil and expecting a man to be accustomed to silent endurance.

Perhaps today, truly happy at heart with the Airbus A380 deal settled, or maybe the alcohol clouded his judgment, he had inadvertently asked that question.

"You don't need to adjust. It was just something I said off the cuff, don't take it to heart."

Madison gently pushed away, looking intently at him, "If I don't take what you say to heart, whose words should I consider?"

"Ethan, you don't have to be perfect in everything, bearing it all on your own. I can be there with you. Otherwise, why do you think I'm working so hard? It's because I don't want to be a drag, just shrinking under your wings."

Her words echoed through the snowy wind, carrying the weight of early winter's chill, rushing towards Ethan.

Ethan stared at Madison, his eyes unblinking.

The weariness on his face gradually transformed into a smile, growing more apparent.

They looked at each other in silence for a long, long time.

It wasn't until the snow finally left marks on the ground that Madison gently grasped his hand, "I drove here. Shall we go get something warm for your stomach?"

Ethan clasped her hand back, nodding with a smile, "I'll follow my girlfriend's plan."

The car was warm as Madison had been running the heater the entire way.

Upon getting in, she first touched Ethan's face, "You're a bit hot. You're not coming down with a cold, are you?"

"It's the alcohol, I'm fine."

Ethan wanted to ask if she needed anything else for the new place, "Do you need anything else? I can ask White..."

His words were cut off as his lips were suddenly seized in a kiss.

Madison leaned in, her hand gripping the car handle, and kissed him.

Ethan was completely caught off guard.

Madison didn't linger long. She pulled back, their foreheads touching, "From now on, I'll be the one to love you."

The strength of the man before her was superficial; it was because no one could help him, so he was accustomed to handling everything alone, rarely showing weakness.

But now, Madison, closest to him, truly felt it.

Felt the helplessness, powerlessness, and exhaustion deep within Ethan's heart.

The emotions that ordinary people have, Ethan has them too. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

He was not significantly stronger than anyone else.

Such a good man, she should cherish and love him with all her might.

The car drove on for a while, with Ethan not responding.

Until they reached a brightly-lit bridge, he suddenly asked, "Madison, will you always love me?"

"Yes."

Madison answered without hesitation, "As long as you don't give up on me."

She knew Ethan sometimes needed reassurance. Everyone has their moments of vulnerability; all she could do was be there for him, encouraging him.

"I won't give up on you," Ethan slowly closed his eyes.

Even if you give up on me someday.

Humans are a curious species.

Those who are exceedingly lucid or incredibly tender, once in love, are bound to be zealous.

Only those who walk the line between clarity and obscurity are quick to love and leave.

In reality, Madison was one of those people.

"Let's have some porridge, okay?" Madison asked him.

Ethan seemed to have dozed off briefly. When he opened his eyes, red threads laced his pupils. He glanced out, "Okay."

They got out of the car.

Madison paused, scrutinizing him.

Ethan likewise examined himself, "Is there a problem with my attire?"

Although he had dressed in haste, each article of clothing was custom-made.

"Isn't it a bit of a shame to bring you to a small diner in such fine clothes?" Madison hesitated.

Ethan inhaled and then, taking her hand, strode into the small porridge shop.

He always had an air of sophistication that Madison had grown accustomed to.

They ordered a bowl of porridge, a bowl of egg custard, a few buns—very ordinary fare.

Madison wasn't very hungry; she just watched Ethan slowly eat.

Without looking up, he suddenly asked, "What do you like about me?"

Madison was taken aback.

That question...

Was there a standard answer?