The reply to Eleanor was a long silence. Eleanor saw the man’s pale face outside the door, his thin lips tightly pressed. He clearly didn’t just not want to speak; he didn’t even want to bring it up. "Adrian Grant, why did you marry me?" Eleanor’s voice involuntarily rose. Mia Winslow said he married her because of Jonah Grant, to compete with Jonah Grant, but there was no such emotion between her and Jonah Grant. Eleanor wouldn’t easily believe it, so she came to ask. Adrian Grant silently stared at the door panel, his voice resolute: "Eleanor, open the door." He already knew she was inside. Though separated by a door panel, it was as if they were facing each other. The air became unwittingly tense. "Did you marry me because Grandpa and Grandma pressured you?" Regarding the speculation about Jonah Grant, Eleanor couldn’t voice it. Jonah Grant had always been a good brother to her and Adrian Grant. To place such vile speculation and thoughts on someone who had already passed away, especially Jonah Grant, was indeed a desecration! The man’s answer was very clear, without hesitation. "Then why?" Eleanor’s mind was filled with Mia Winslow’s words. Adrian Grant’s eyes grew slightly dark. He absolutely couldn’t tell Eleanor that Old Master Grant advocated the marriage entirely because of his own subjective desire! At the time, Eleanor had no intention of marrying him. If he hadn’t schemed, Eleanor might have found a senior she liked at school, dating like any other ordinary student. She would probably hate him even more, seeing his lowliness and shamelessness clearly. Having waited a long time without a response from Adrian Grant, Eleanor gave a self-deprecating bitter smile and leaned against the wall. Perhaps he himself also found the reason related to Jonah Grant difficult to articulate — besides this, Eleanor couldn’t think of any other reason. "Adrian Grant, is your lawyer available today?" Eleanor changed the subject. The man’s gaze trembled slightly. Eleanor said, "Go home and rest. I hope the next time we meet, you’ll have arranged a meeting with a lawyer to talk to me." "Eleanor, what happened?" Adrian Grant didn’t understand why Eleanor suddenly became so firm. "Nothing happened." Eleanor’s voice carried loneliness, "I just got tired." Due to Pearl Morgan’s incident with the doctoral entrance, all admissions at Aethelgard University were being re-reviewed. The next day, Eleanor went to the old residence and subtly expressed her intention to separate from Adrian Grant to Old Madam Grant. "Separate?" Old Madam Grant’s shock carried traces of sadness, but also a bit of hopeful questioning, "What kind of separation? A temporary division or...a divorce separation?" "Grandma, it’s the divorce kind." Eleanor held the elderly woman’s hand: "But don’t worry, even if I separate from Adrian Grant, I will still respect and love you. As long as you need me, I will be here to accompany you." Old Madam Grant’s cloudy eyes brimmed with sadness. "Eleanor, did Adrian do something to make you angry or... did he do something wrong? Do you absolutely have to divorce? Weren’t things going well between you two just a few days ago?" "Adrian is quite good. He didn’t make me angry or do anything wrong, but Grandma, he and I are not suitable for each other. You know, our marriage circumstances weren’t good. I think both of us should have new lives. As for a few days ago... I hope you can have a happy birthday." Old Madam Grant opened her mouth several times, hesitant to speak, but eventually said nothing. Seeing her slightly pallid face, Eleanor said with concern: "Grandma, take good care of your health." Old Madam Grant secretly wiped her tears. After dinner at the old residence with Old Madam Grant and ensuring her mood was stable, Eleanor left. Adrian Grant received a call from Old Master Grant immediately after Eleanor left the old residence, saying Eleanor told Old Madam Grant her idea of divorcing. Adrian Grant called Eleanor, but was refused. "Your sister-in-law isn’t answering your calls?" Lance Lowell saw Adrian Grant’s unpleasant expression and laughed mischievously. Adrian Grant glanced at him, his gaze overly grim and solemn. Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Lance Lowell ceased his smile: "What’s wrong?" Adrian Grant didn’t speak, and seeing his truly bad mood, Lance Lowell stood up: "Come on, have a drink?" After three rounds, Adrian Grant remained sober. After three more rounds, Adrian Grant was still sober. The evidence was, when Lance Lowell asked Adrian Grant, he said nothing, his mouth sealed tight. Lance Lowell belatedly noticed that Adrian Grant was occasionally looking at his phone. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on N()velFire.net With a few more drinks, he’d pull up Eleanor’s number and just look at it, as if staring longer would await her call. Really a hard-headed duck! Lance Lowell didn’t know what had happened between Adrian Grant and Eleanor, so he called her. "Sis, it’s Lance Lowell," Lance Lowell said, "Adrian’s drunk. Can you come to pick him up?" "I and he..." Eleanor furrowed her brow, "I’m not in a position to pick him up right now." She wasn’t sure how much Adrian Grant’s friends knew about their divorce talks. "Sis, are you and Adrian fighting?" Lance Lowell asked keenly. "Hey, fighting is one thing. You’re still his wife, right? You should get him back; he’s been drinking for three hours non-stop, I’m afraid he’ll drink himself into the hospital!" "Sis, he’s all yours!" Lance Lowell was very tactful, and as soon as Eleanor arrived, he found an excuse to leave. Eleanor didn’t finish speaking, Lance Lowell had already vanished quickly. Adrian Grant sat on the sofa, clutching a glass of whiskey and about to down it. A hand suddenly appeared, stopping his glass. Adrian Grant looked up, his cold eyes showing in the dim light. The instant he saw Eleanor, his gaze tightened, as if he wanted to capture her in a glance. "Adrian Grant, are you still sober?" Eleanor stood across the coffee table from him. The man lowered his eyes again, grabbed another glass, and poured it back into his mouth. Eleanor quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist, feeling that his body temperature was hot to the touch. "Adrian Grant, stop drinking." Eleanor walked over, pulling his arm, trying to lift him up. The man, however, pulled along her hand downward! Unprepared, Eleanor lost her balance and fell, sitting entirely in Adrian Grant’s embrace. As soon as Eleanor spoke, a large hand grabbed her lower back, shifting her forward, causing her to press closely against Adrian Grant. The thin fabric between them couldn’t block the heat emanating from the man’s body; Eleanor practically felt her skin being scorched, the strong smell of alcohol filling the air, intoxicating. "Adrian Grant!" Eleanor exclaimed. "Hmm." Adrian Grant responded, planting delicate kisses on Eleanor’s cheeks and lips. This was the booth in the bar’s main hall; people were everywhere, but the lighting was dim, and no one noticed anything unusual on Eleanor and Adrian Grant’s side. Eleanor tried to push the man’s face away, but couldn’t, instead prompting even more intimate kisses from him. The kiss was not clean; it carried desire, but it was different than when he was seeking pleasure. This kiss felt like he simply wanted to kiss her, wanted to make progress, but didn’t dare; every kiss carried caution, his hand clamped on her waist tightly without any extra movement.