She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 457

On a whim, Lyra picked up a scroll painting and headed over to the Jameson family estate.

The estate's grounds were impeccably maintained, boasting elegant landscaping, perfectly manicured flora, and an antique wooden corridor. The head butler guided her toward the main parlor.

Because she hadn't called ahead, Alistair Jameson was completely oblivious to her visit. He sat comfortably in a mahogany armchair, sipping his tea.

"Mr. Jameson, look who's here," the old butler announced with a bright smile. "Miss Fairchild has come to visit you."

"Lyra?" Alistair looked up, a hearty laugh escaping his lips the second he saw her. He quickly set his celadon teacup down. "What brings you by today?"

Lyra offered a polite bow. "I just wanted to see you, Grandpa Alistair. I know you love calligraphy and paintings, and I happened to acquire an authentic masterpiece."

"Oh, Lyra, there's no need to be so formal now that you're older... It's the thought that counts. You didn't have to spend your money on me."

Lyra smiled warmly. "I know how much you love them, so I wanted you to have it."

Alistair's heart melted at the gesture. He immediately insisted on keeping her around. "Well, since you're here, you must stay for lunch. Keep an empty-nester like me company."

"Grandpa Alistair, I was actually hoping to take a walk around the estate," Lyra said bashfully. "I used to run around here all the time when I was little. I must have been here at least twice a week."

"Of course, of course. Let's take a stroll together."

The old potted plants in the courtyard corners were still thriving. Even the intricate carvings on the eaves looked exactly as she remembered. Every brick, every tile held onto the echoes of her childhood.

Lyra simply wanted to retrace those familiar steps, mourning the carefree, innocent girl she used to be.

The years had drifted by, and without her realizing it, everything and everyone around her had irreparably changed.

Noticing the profound melancholy etched across her features, Alistair let out a soft sigh. "As we get older, we can never quite find our way back to the simple, easy days of our youth."

"Did someone wrong you out there, Lyra? Are you in trouble? Whatever it is, you can always tell me."

Lyra masked the turbulent emotions in her eyes, lowering her gaze. "No, everything's perfectly fine."

The two followed the cobblestone path into the backyard, eventually stopping in front of the estate's long-abandoned outdoor swimming pool. The basin had dried up completely, its edges littered with dead branches and fallen leaves. The tiled edges were blanketed in a thin layer of dust. The sparkling, vibrant oasis it used to be was long gone.

Lyra shook her head slightly. "Of course not."

Alistair immediately chuckled. "Look at me, my mind is going. I keep forgetting you two broke things off a while ago. I hear he's seeing an old classmate now. His parents seem heavily invested in it, but as for Rowan... his mind has always been impossible to read. As his grandfather, I lost the ability to control him a long time ago."

In the old man's eyes, Lyra had been the one to initiate the break-up, so he felt no need to censor himself when discussing the topic.

"When he's busy, he drops off the map for ten days at a time. He mentioned over the phone yesterday that he has another business trip coming up in a couple of days..."

Alistair casually rambled on, feeding her scattered bits of information.

For a split second, Lyra considered telling him everything—telling him how Rowan was forcing himself on her, holding out hope that Alistair could reign his grandson in.

But the words died on her tongue, forced back down her throat.

At the end of the day, Rowan was his flesh and blood. And Alistair had been right about one thing: he hadn't been able to control Rowan for a very long time.