I Walked Away Seven Years Too Late But Right on Time novel Chapter 249

At Ethan's one-month celebration, Mia was the first to recognize the man Sarah had previously kicked out of her house.

She discreetly pointed him out to Gwen.

It was the first time Gwen and Jason Jenkins had ever seen Sophie's biological father.

Gwen leaned into Jason's ear and whispered, "Money really is the ultimate fountain of youth. Sophie's dad and Gavin's dad look like they're exactly the same age. My dad looks like he could be their grandfather."

George Grayson overheard this and felt an immediate sourness bubble up in his stomach. His gaze shifted from Harold's face to his physique, and when he saw Harold stand up to toast Gavin's father, George quickly sucked in his own gut.

"Dad, you should give up now. Even though you're only a year older than him, standing next to each other, the difference is like Danny DeVito next to George Clooney."

Gwen whispered to her dad, reminding him not to stare daggers at Harold. Even if looks could kill, it wouldn't change the glaring disparity between them.

"Clothes make the man. If I put on a custom suit like that, I'd look just as sharp," George retorted, stubbornly refusing to concede.

Gwen forced a tight smile, thinking to herself that older men really were nothing if not stubborn.

Sitting nearby, Jason pressed his lips tightly together, fighting back a laugh. Gwen shot him a side-eye and puffed out her cheeks, also trying to suppress her amusement.

"When we get home tonight, I'll share one of my face masks with you," Gwen teased, winking at Jason.

"I want one too," George shamelessly demanded, rubbing his own face, convinced he was still salvageable.

At the banquet, Harold looked even more elated than Gavin.

Since Gavin couldn't drink much and Graham's tolerance was famously low, Harold enthusiastically took on the role of toasting all the guests.

He went from table to table, clinking glasses and proudly introducing himself to everyone as Ethan's grandfather and Sophie's father.

When he reached Gwen and Jason's table, George boldly claimed his doctor had forbidden him from drinking alcohol. He filled his glass with tea and aggressively clinked glasses with Harold three times in a row.

Gwen saw right through her father's petty scheme. She gave his shirt a sharp tug under the table and offered Harold an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Harper. My dad used to love drinking, so he has a soft spot for anyone who can hold their liquor."

"No problem at all! Today's a joyous occasion. I haven't let loose and drank like this in years."

As Harold moved on to the next table, Gwen leaned in and hissed at her dad, "You're trying to get him wasted, but who do you think is going to be taking care of him when he's drunk? Aunt Sarah! What exactly is your game plan here?"

Only then did George realize his brilliant sabotage was actually setting up a romantic scenario for his rival. He instantly felt even more annoyed.

Harold circled the room, glass in hand, and by the time he returned to the main table, his face was flushed, though he still carried himself with impeccable poise.

He raised his glass, fully intending to toast Sarah.

"You should slow down," Sarah muttered, keeping her voice low.

"It's a rare occasion. Just this once." Harold held his glass up, staring at Sarah with hazy, love-struck eyes.

Sarah picked up her own glass from the table and drank with him. Whenever guests from other tables came over to toast, Harold eagerly drank on behalf of both Gavin and Sophie.

"He drank way too much." Sarah handed the cup to her daughter.

"Sarah..."

Harold finally realized he had grabbed the wrong person's hands earlier. He stumbled a step forward and gripped Sarah's hand tight.

Sarah immediately tried to yank her hand away, but Harold's grip was like a vise. Given his highly intoxicated state, there was no reasoning with him.

Sophie shot Gavin a look. The two of them grabbed Harold's arms, pried his fingers off Sarah's hand one by one, and shoved him back into his chair.

"Drink some of this honey water first." Sophie lifted the cup to Harold's lips.

"I'm heading home. You two make sure he gets back safely," Sarah said, picking up her winter coat from the back of her chair.

"Come ride with us, Mom," Gavin offered.

"It's not a far walk. It's too stuffy in here anyway. I want some fresh air."

Sophie and Gavin exchanged a look. It was December—the wind was freezing.

But they both knew Sarah simply refused to be in the same car as Harold, terrified he'd do or say something wildly inappropriate again. Neither of them tried to stop her.

Gavin wrestled Harold into the backseat of the car. Harold gripped Gavin's hand tightly, endlessly mumbling, "Sarah..."