Winifred had long noticed that Garrison wasn’t very close to his parents. He rarely mentioned his family in front of her and spent holidays with her instead of visiting them abroad. Even when he did visit, it was never for more than a week before he hurried back.
A rift between parents and children usually means something happened in the past, with one side unwilling to apologize and the other refusing to back down. Though curious, Winifred never asked about it, respecting that it was Garrison’s private matter. She waited for him to tell her voluntarily.
Clegg shifted his attention to Winifred, giving her a subtle once-over before smiling warmly. “Is this Miss Dawson you often mention?”
Often mention? Winifred glanced at Garrison. His lips curved slightly into a small but noticeable smile that she caught.
There’s an online saying: if you really like someone, you can’t help but boast about them frequently. Winifred blushed, her face radiant with a touch of red.
Garrison admitted, “Yes, it’s her.”
“Miss Dawson is very beautiful. Have you had breakfast? I can ask the chef to prepare something for you. Do you prefer Western cuisine or homemade dishes?”
Women liked it when they were called beautiful except for Winifred. She knew how many surgeries it took to achieve her looks. Her beauty wasn’t natural.
Winifred showed no unusual emotion. She had prepared herself for such comments when she decided on plastic surgery. Over the years, she had come to terms with it and knew she would receive various opinions about her appearance.
“Can I have homemade dishes?”
“Of course. Our mistress doesn’t like eating Western cuisine much, so we hired a chef skilled in homemade dishes. His breakfast is quite delicious.”
“Then I’ll have homemade dishes if it’s not too much trouble.”
Chatting with Winifred, Clegg grew increasingly fond of her. She spoke modestly and treated people well, clearly easy to get along with, and she was indeed beautiful, especially her captivating eyes.
“It’s no trouble,” Clegg said enthusiastically. “We have all the ingredients, and it’s easy for the chef to prepare. Besides, Mr. and Mrs. Reeves haven’t eaten yet.”
Clegg referred to Garrison’s parents. So it was just a matter of making two extra portions, which eased Winifred’s mind.
“Come in quickly; I’ll get you a drink.”
“No need for a drink; warm water will do.”
Initially worried that Winifred might feel uncomfortable, Garrison relaxed seeing how naturally she handled everything. He led her to sit on the sofa while the busy servants respectfully greeted him as “Mr. Reeves.”
Winifred still felt a bit uneasy and clung closely to Garrison. “Did you tell your parents I was coming today?”
“I mentioned it.”
Winifred pondered this. She wasn’t naive; she understood social interactions well enough. Though Garrison had told his parents about bringing her over, none of the servants seemed aware of it, not even Clegg. This indicated that Mrs. Reeves hadn’t informed them.
Why not let the servants prepare in advance? The only explanation was that they didn’t care about her or didn’t think highly of her.
Winifred had anticipated this outcome. The Reeves family wasn’t ordinary; Garrison was worth billions and had a promising career ahead of him. What did she have? Nothing-an orphan with no money or social standing.
She sighed inwardly, but Garrison seemed to sense her thoughts and squeezed her hand gently. “I only want you.”
Those simple words calmed Winifred’s restless heart.
“Do you want to go out for a walk?”
Winifred shook her head. “No need; we’ll be having breakfast soon anyway. Let’s just sit here for a while.”
“Alright.” Seeing that Winifred was still a bit uneasy, Garrison started talking about nearby attractions and his past experiences to distract her, which worked as she gradually relaxed.
After nearly twenty minutes, Garrison’s parents came downstairs. Mrs. Reeves was dressed opulently even at home, clearly trying to intimidate Winifred with her appearance. She held her head high and exuded an air of arrogance that made it clear she wasn’t easy to get along with.
Winifred glanced at her and frowned slightly.
Beside Mrs. Reeves was Garrison’s father, who appeared much more reserved compared to his wife’s flamboyance. He wore a slight smile and maintained an appropriate distance from others but still exuded an air of detachment from his son.
Seeing them approach, Winifred wanted to stand up and greet them politely since it was her first time meeting Garrison’s family. Despite Garrison’s reassurances not to worry about his parents’ opinions, she still hoped to make a good impression.
As she tried to stand up, Garrison shifted his hold from her hand to her shoulder, silently asserting his claim over her and gently pressing her back onto the sofa.
Startled, Winifred looked at him, but he reassured her with his eyes.
She decided to follow his lead.
Mrs. Reeves’ eyes turned cold briefly before she smiled and said, “So this is Miss Dawson?”
Winifred nodded slightly. “Yes.”
“You can call me Mrs. Reeves,” she said coolly before adding sarcastically, “There used to be another girl named Winifred who dated my son for a while back then. I liked that girl; she also called me Mrs. Reeves. Every time they went out together, they were often praised as a perfect match by others.” She paused before continuing pointedly, “Though you share the same name as that girl, your looks are worlds apart from hers, not to mention your upbringing.”
Her words were laced with sarcasm aimed at undermining Winifred’s confidence by drawing unfavorable comparisons between her and the previous “Winifred”. It was clear Mrs. Reeves wanted Winifred to feel inferior and retreat in self-doubt.
Most people would feel hurt under such circumstances despite their partner’s support because those words would create emotional barriers.
However, knowing she was indeed the same “Winifred” Mrs. Reeves spoke of made Winifred’s feelings rather complex as she listened to herself being simultaneously criticized and praised by Mrs. Reeves.