The 99th Chance I Gave You Chapter 02

The 99th Chance I Gave You Chapter 02

“Eleanor Hart, you…”

Before he could finish, Sylvia came over with a smile.

“Mr. Fenton, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

She was wrapped in Nathaniel’s suit jacket, and her dress still carried the scent of champagne.

It was from when she had knocked over the champagne tower earlier.

Yet Nathaniel didn’t mind at all.

He personally opened the car door for her, then lowered his head to tuck the jacket more tightly around her shoulders.

“It’s cold outside. Don’t catch a chill.”

Only after doing all that did he seem to remember I was still standing there.

His eyes flickered.

“Don’t misunderstand. Sylvia is young and just joined the company. I’m only looking out for her a little.”

I nodded.

“I understand.”

Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I added, “You used a forgiveness voucher, didn’t you? I won’t be angry.”

Nathaniel stiffened, as if he wanted to say something else.

Sylvia sneezed softly.

His attention immediately returned to her.

“Go home early.”

After leaving me with that sentence, he drove away with Sylvia.

I stood by the road and watched the car disappear into the night, unable to stop myself from shivering.

After I got home, I took out the glass jar of forgiveness vouchers from the back of my closet.

Once, I could reach in and grab one easily.

Now I had to fumble around for a long time before I finally pulled one out.

I tore up the 97th forgiveness voucher, opened my laptop, and started drafting a divorce settlement agreement with Nathaniel.

To make sure everything was fair, I called Professor Whitmore.

“Professor Whitmore, if I want to divorce Nathaniel Fenton, how should the assets be divided?”

Professor Whitmore was clearly surprised.

“Divorce? Why?”

“Everyone at Oxford knows Nathaniel proposed to you 99 times back then. People still talk about it. Why the sudden divorce?”

Right.

How had we gotten here?

Maybe it started when the perfume on his body grew stronger.

Maybe it started when he came home less and less.

Maybe it started when the forgiveness vouchers in the glass jar were used one after another because of Sylvia.

That was when I knew we could never go back.

I stayed silent for a long time.

Professor Whitmore didn’t try to persuade me again. He only asked, “I can help draft the divorce settlement agreement. When do you need it?”

I looked at the glass jar, my voice very soft.

“When Nathaniel uses up his last 2 chances.”

Just as I finished speaking, the door was pushed open.

“What chances?”

Nathaniel walked in carrying a paper bag, sounding confused.

I hung up and calmly closed my laptop.

“Nothing. Professor Whitmore and I were talking about a divorce case.”

Nathaniel’s face changed instantly. He rushed toward me.

“Divorce? You want to divorce me?”

I took half a step back and casually covered it up.

“Not me. Professor Whitmore has a case and wanted my opinion.”

Only then did he relax and hand me the paper bag.

“For you.”

The bag had the logo of that patisserie in Covent Garden printed on it.

Before we were married, whenever Nathaniel upset me, he would go to that shop to buy me cake.

That bakery was always popular, and there was always a long line.

To coax me, no matter how hard it rained in London, as long as I said I wanted it, he would go line up himself.

Sometimes I felt bad for him and told him to call a courier.

But Nathaniel always said, “Eleanor, it’s fine. Anything for you.”

Thinking of that, I almost softened again.

I took the paper bag and opened it.

“I didn’t think you still remembered… What is this?”

Inside the bag was not the cake I had expected.

It was 2 pieces of clothing that smelled like champagne.

One was Nathaniel’s suit jacket.

The other was the gown Sylvia Hayes had worn tonight.

Under my gaze, Nathaniel looked uncomfortable for once.

“Sylvia’s dress got stained, didn’t it? I figured you’re used to handling these things anyway. Washing 1 piece is washing. Washing 2 is the same. So I brought them back.”

After saying that, he seemed to suddenly regain his confidence.

“At worst, I’ll use another forgiveness voucher. There are still so many left. Don’t make a fuss over something this small.”

That sentence left me unable to say anything.

I wanted to tell him.

Nathaniel Fenton, there weren’t many left.

Of those 99 forgiveness vouchers, only 1 remained.

But when the words reached my lips, I only looked at him for a while, then threw the clothes into the washing machine.

Before, to keep his clothes perfectly presentable, I never used a washing machine.

I washed every piece slowly by hand.

Thinking back now, I had been so stupid.

I thought it was care.

But in his eyes, I was probably just a live-in maid he didn’t have to pay.