Chapter 40
“They’ve finally left,” Benjamin exhaled deeply, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on the tea set as though deciphering an ancient code.
“They must be drained after all that. There’s still some food, though it’s just my leftovers—nothing special prepared for you.”
Isabella’s gaze swept over the table, noting that the dishes looked far fresher than Benjamin implied. She chose to keep that observation to herself.
With visible reluctance, Benjamin stowed away the tea set and took his seat at the table. The meal unfolded in an unexpectedly tranquil atmosphere. Benjamin was in unusually high spirits, even indulging in a rare sip of his treasured Hennessy Paradis.
“You’ve realized my greatest dream today! It’s a shame you youngsters are so fiercely independent. I wanted to pass this estate to you—somewhere to call home.”
Isabella nibbled on a perfectly seasoned piece of fish, her attention more on her plate than Benjamin’s words.
“Are you glaring at me?” Benjamin pressed.
“No. Everyone knows this property is worth a fortune. It’s the true legacy of all Athton.”
If Isabella had stamped Benjamin’s name on her ceramics, it would have been like striking gold—securing her future without another struggle. Benjamin had weathered life’s harshest storms. Today, when that wretched couple had shown up with malice toward Isabella, he’d had a moment of clarity about his own battles.
Isabella was young, recently divorced, and without the safety net of family. Benjamin wanted to offer her stability. But her stubborn refusal only made him chuckle as he served Alexander a generous portion of braised beef.
“You did well today. Take this.” A shadow of melancholy flickered in Benjamin’s eyes.
That insufferable pair had strutted through his domain today, yet they held Alexander in high regard. Money and power moved people, after all. Alexander might not have Isabella’s artistic brilliance, but he was undeniably capable in the grind of daily life.
“Isabella, I’m not pitying you. I just don’t want these pieces to vanish from history.”
Benjamin sighed heavily. These days, pottery was mass-produced by machines, and fewer young people carried the torch. Even his own generation was fading. The rivalries of his youth had left scars, but the loss of familiar faces brought a loneliness he couldn’t name.
Understanding his sentiment, Isabella set down her fork and spoke with quiet resolve. “I respect your dedication to preserving pottery, but inheriting this estate is too heavy a burden. I don’t like strings attached. I’ll promote the craft, but the property should go to your family.”
Benjamin opened his mouth to argue, but Isabella deftly shifted the topic. “Benjamin, my situation isn’t as dire as you think. Divorce doesn’t equal destitution. I own a villa at Starfish Views. I’ve just been preoccupied, staying with a friend temporarily. I’m far from helpless.”
“Staying with a friend isn’t ideal,” Alexander added. “If you need a place, I have plenty. Consider it thanks for today’s guidance.”
“Always the wealthy one,” Isabella laughed.
“It’s getting late. You should stay tonight,” Benjamin said, rising with a groan. “I’m too old for this. Cooking wrecks my back.”
Isabella shook her head, seeing through his act. His discomfort likely stemmed from his earlier excitement over the tea set.
“Since it’s going to rain tonight, you can’t just loiter here. Go fetch some dried bamboo shoots from the hill behind the house.”
Alexander glanced at his wheelchair, silent.
“I’m disabled,” he said flatly.
“You’ve got arms and legs,” Benjamin retorted. “With that high-tech chair of yours, it’ll be effortless. You could probably haul a pig in that thing, let alone bamboo shoots. Get moving.”
Isabella eyed Alexander’s custom wheelchair—designed by a top medical team—knowing Benjamin saw all gadgets as mere tools. Alexander, accustomed to his gruffness, recognized the care beneath it. Despite the nagging, Benjamin had always looked out for him.
“Fine,” Alexander said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Time to put these wheels to work.”
