Marry Ex's Billionaire Uncle After Divorce (Aurora and Jasper) novel Chapter 175

apter 140: Eleanor

(Aurora’s POV)

Eleanor was already inside when we reached the private dining room. She stood the moment I came through the door, and before I could say anything she had taken my hands in both of hers and was pulling me toward the chair beside her.

“Come sit here,” she said. “Next to me.”

I sat. She kept hold of my hand for a moment.

“I have to ask you something,” I said, because I needed to know and I didn’t see the point in waiting. “Does it bother you? That I was married before?”

Eleanor looked at me. Then she smiled – warm, genuine, with a flicker of dry humor underneath it.

“Darling,” she said, “a woman who makes my son show up on time to dinner is already my favorite person in this family.”

The tightness in my chest loosened. I hadn’t expected that – not the warmth, not the complete absence of judgment. Eleanor wasn’t asking me to explain myself or prove anything. She was just sitting there, holding my hand, looking at me like I was already exactly where I belonged.

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Though I was certain it looked a little awkward.

“Good,” Eleanor said, squeezing my hand once before releasing it. She reached into the handbag beside her chair and pulled out a small box – dark velvet, the kind that closes with a soft, precise click. “Now. There are some things that should have been done properly. A formal dinner, a real introduction, the whole ceremony of it.” She gave Phineas a pointed look. “But your husband apparently decided to file the paperwork before anyone could draw breath, so here we are.”

Phineas picked up his wine glass and said nothing.

Eleanor opened the box.

Inside, resting against ivory satin, was a ring. An emerald–cut diamond, the stone deep and saturated, set in a platinum band with fine detail work along the sides. It was clearly old. The kind of old that meant it had been worn before, and before that, and before that.

“This has been in the Everett family for generations,” Eleanor said. “We keep two. One for each son’s bride. Arthur’s wife has the other.” She looked at me. “This one is yours.”

I looked at the ring. Then I looked at her.

“Mrs. Everett, I really can’t-”

“Eleanor.”

“Eleanor.” I tried again. “It’s beautiful, and I’m genuinely honored, but I – I can’t accept something like this. It

re: Eleanor

wouldn’t be right.”

Eleanor did not argue. She simply picked up my left hand, held it with a steadiness that left no room for protest, and slid the ring onto my finger.

“There,” she said. “It looks exactly right to me.”

I stared at my own hand. The stone caught the candlelight and threw it back in pieces.

I turned to Phineas. He was watching me with a quiet expression, the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly, like this was all going precisely as expected and he saw no reason to intervene.

That look was not helpful.

Before I could find any words, Eleanor reached into her bag again and produced a black card. She set it on the table in front of me.

“A welcome gift,” she said. “You’re family now. That’s yours.”

I thought, involuntarily, of the day I had married Jasper. Victoria’s expression when she handed me the envelope – the slight curl of her lip, the way she’d looked at me like she was doing me a favor by acknowledging my existence at all. A deed to an apartment with my name added as an afterthought: A check with a number that was meant to remind me of my place, not celebrate my arrival.

This was nothing like that.

Phineas said quietly, “Go on.”

My face went warm. I looked at Eleanor, and the word came out before I could overthink it.

“Mom.”

Eleanor’s expression shifted. Her eyes went bright, and for just a moment the composure she wore so naturally seemed to crack at the edges. She reached out and pulled me into a brief, firm embrace.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for that,” she said, her voice a little rough.

She released me and cleared her throat, straightening. “Now. The wedding. William needs more time, which means we may have to push the ceremony back a bit.”

I opened my mouth to say it didn’t matter, that we didn’t need a ceremony at all.

Phineas spoke first.

“The wedding proceeds on my timeline,” he said. His voice was perfectly calm. “If Father decides he’d rather not attend, that’s his choice.”

Eleanor looked at him.

“There’s also the matter of my reputation,” he continued, with the air of someone raising a perfectly reasonable point. “People have been saying, for years, that I have no interest in marriage or women. That there’s something wrong with me.” He paused. “I need to address that with some urgency.”

Eleanor stared at her son for a long moment. Then she picked up her wine and took a slow, deliberate sip.

“I genuinely don’t know where to begin with you,” she said.

Phineas looked unbothered.

I kept my eyes on my plate and tried not to smile.

Dinner wrapped up slowly, the way good dinners do, with the conversation drifting into easier territory and the candles burning lower. By the time we walked out into the evening air, I felt something I hadn’t expected to feel: settled.

Phineas fell into step beside me. Without any particular announcement, he reached over and took my hand.

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