He Promised Me Every Flight, Gave Her Every One Chapter 07

He Promised Me Every Flight, Gave Her Every One Chapter 07

That conversation never continued.

Grant scooped Lydia into his arms and rushed toward the elevator.

Only the cold breakfast bag remained in the hallway.

Julian looked at me.

“Keep preparing the case,” I said.

Sophie picked up the bag and tossed it straight into the trash.

That afternoon, Emily and Blake showed up at my apartment.

Emily started crying the moment she walked in. “Eleanor, what happened to you? You upset Lydia so badly that she ended up in the hospital. Grant hasn’t slept all night.”

Blake slammed his phone onto the table.

The screen showed Grant sitting on a hospital hallway bench.

His head hung low, and Lydia’s test results were clenched in his hand.

“See that? My brother’s losing his mind over this mess. Meanwhile, you’re hiding here, acting like you’re above everyone.”

I set down my cup. “How did Lydia end up in the hospital?”

Emily wiped her tears. “She’s always been fragile. You humiliated her to her face. Of course she got sick.”

My phone buzzed again.

Grant had sent a voice message. “Come to the hospital and apologize to Lydia.”

His voice sounded hoarse.

But an order was still an order.

Sophie opened her mouth to curse him out.

I took the phone and sent two words: [Not coming.]

Emily shot to her feet. “You’re not going? You drove her to the hospital, and you still have the nerve to refuse?”

“She went to the hospital because of her own health issues.”

Blake sneered.

“No wonder Grant doesn’t love you. You’re heartless.”

The room went silent for half a second.

Once, those words would’ve hurt.

I would’ve panicked and tried to prove Grant loved me.

Now, they only sounded annoying.

I opened the door. “Get out.”

Emily refused to move and tried to shove me aside.

Sophie blocked her.

During the struggle, documents scattered across the floor.

An old hospital receipt slid to Emily’s feet.

She looked down, and her expression changed.

It was from three years ago, when she’d been hospitalized with acute cholecystitis.

Grant had been flying an international route.

His father had been out of town.

I’d signed the forms, paid the bill, and stayed beside her all night.

The next morning, she’d held my hand. “Ellie, from now on, you’re my own daughter.”

After Lydia returned, Emily told everyone something different.

“Eleanor’s considerate, but Lydia is easier to love.”

Emily stepped on the receipt. “What’s the point of digging up old debts?”

I crouched and picked it up. “It matters.”

Footsteps sounded outside.

Grant stood by the elevator, his face dark.

His coat was wrinkled, as if he’d come straight from the hospital.

Emily rushed toward him. “Grant, look how cruel she’s become! She’s using all these old debts to pressure us!”

Grant walked inside.

His gaze swept over the scattered documents before landing on me.

“Eleanor, that’s enough.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “Lydia just finished her tests. The doctor said she can’t handle emotional stress. Come to the hospital and apologize. Then I’ll let this go.”

I looked up at him. “What gives you the right to come after me?”

Grant froze.

I’d never spoken to him like that before.

His jaw tightened. “Because you’re my fiancée.”

“Not for much longer.”

Emily shrieked, “In your dreams!”

Grant suddenly grabbed my wrist.

His grip was painfully tight. “Ellie, I’m giving you one last chance.”

Pain shot through my wrist.

I glanced down at his hand. “Let go.”

He didn’t.

Sophie rushed forward and shoved him.

A man’s voice came from the doorway. “Mr. Sterling, release her.”

Everyone turned.

Julian stood there in a dark gray coat, a briefcase in hand.

His features were cool and composed.

He was my attorney.

He was also the son of one of my father’s closest friends.

Grant’s gaze darkened when he saw him. “Who are you?”

Julian stepped forward and handed him a business card. “Ms. Miller’s attorney.”

Grant stared at the card and gave a cold laugh. “Does an attorney interfere in a client’s family matters?”

Julian looked at the hand gripping my wrist. “When she authorizes it, yes.”

Grant slowly loosened his fingers.

Red marks had already surfaced on my skin.

Julian held out a document. “Mr. Sterling, this is a formal demand letter.”

Grant unfolded it, his face turning frighteningly cold beneath the light.