The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 492

"Grandpa, let the nanny carry them inside, okay? They're still little and love to kick and squirm—you don’t want to hurt yourself."

Victoria’s voice was soft and coaxing, but the old man just grinned, eyes crinkling with delight.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, waving off her concern.

He was determined to do it himself, so in the end, Victoria compromised and let him carry just one—little Chris.

Girls were delicate, after all, best not to risk a fall, but as for boys—well, the Langford family had always raised them tough. They could handle a little roughhousing.

Grandpa took little Chris into his arms, beaming from ear to ear. Victoria pressed her lips together in mild resignation and followed them inside.

McNeil trailed after them, keeping a polite distance—never too close, never too far.

That evening, Grandpa invited them to stay for dinner. With the children there, Victoria couldn’t refuse.

Throughout the meal, it was just Grandpa and Victoria chatting away. McNeil might as well have been invisible, just a silent fixture at the table. Grandpa didn’t look at his eldest grandson even once; it was as if McNeil didn’t exist.

After dinner, Grandpa tried to persuade Victoria and the three kids to stay a few days longer, but Victoria gently declined. She said the twins were used to life at the Turner house and it wouldn’t be convenient. Grandpa had no choice but to let it go, simply reminding her to bring the children around more often to visit an old man.

“After all, at my age, every day is a blessing. I’m sixty-five now—doubt I’ll make it to sixty-eight. Who knows how many more times I’ll get to see these little ones?”

He saw them to the door, tears and snot running down his face as he spoke, convinced he was being deeply moving. Victoria listened with polite indifference, responding just as blandly.

Not make it to sixty-eight? She almost laughed.

Seeing how spry he was, he’d probably be jogging around at eighty-six. He had monthly checkups, and the doctors always said his health was better than most people half his age.

McNeil watched as they disappeared through the gate, an odd, heavy feeling pressing at his chest.

Right in front of him, Haley shut the door, making it clear he wasn’t welcome inside.

McNeil knew the real problem was Victoria. Haley just took her cues from her. Still, didn’t Haley want to see them reconcile, even a little?

He sat there, staring out at the house as dusk deepened and the grounds fell silent.

There was nothing but the whisper of leaves in the night air. Suddenly, McNeil had no desire to go back home—there was no one waiting for him there, just an empty house echoing with loneliness.

He rolled the window halfway down and sat in the darkness, watching the Turner house until all the lights went out. Lighting a cigarette, he smoked in silence.

He stayed there all night, not sleeping a wink, and only when the first pale light touched the horizon did he finally start the car and head for the office.