Chapter 470 

Yuna eventually didn’t leave the Winston Mansion. 

Marguerite had long suspected that one major reason she couldn’t hold a candle to Yuna 

in Frederick’s eyes was Yuna’s knack for using the children to keep him tethered. 

No matter how little Frederick loved her, he was undeniably the father of Hayes and Manley, 

But she, Marguerite, seemed to have left him nothing to remember her by. 

Marguerite brooded over this, Frederick’s words echoing in her mind, “I certainly don’t love her, but just as much, I could never love you,” haunting her and refusing to fade. 

The first morning after the drama, Marguerite noticed a significantly reduced number for breakfast. 

Only Jocelyn was bustling about with the servants, while Teresa and Hayes sat on stools, their fingers feverishly dancing over their phones as they played a shooting game. 

“You’re up? Come have breakfast,” Jocelyn called out when she saw Marguerite. 

Sitting down, Marguerite couldn’t help but ask, Jocelyn, why’s it just us? Where’s everyone else?” 

Jocelyn, sitting beside Marguerite, instructed a servant to ladle her a bowl of warming 

soup. 

“Frederick and Yuna took Manley to the hospital, and as for Maurice, if you don’t know where he’s off to, I’m certainly in the dark.” 

Marguerite wasn’t concerned about Maurice’s whereabouts in the slightest. 

Perhaps the previous night’s uproar had taken its toll, for Marguerite felt exhausted despite a night’s sleep. She sipped her soup in silence, not uttering a word. 

Jocelyn patted the table gently, her voice as tender as always, “Kiddos, phones down. If you don’t start eating properly, grandma’s going to confiscate them!” 

Both children chimed in unison, “Got it!” 

Jocelyn smiled, tying bibs around Hayes and Teresa before turning to Marguerite with a probing look, “Were you with Frederick before coming home last night?” 

Marguerite’s spirits were low, but she nodded without denying it, “Yeah, we were at a diner.” 

Jocelyn seemed to look right through her, sipping her soy milk thoughtfully before asking, “Did you enjoy it?” 

Marguerite replied with a hint of defiance, “Not really.” 

“Why not?” 

Marguerite met Jocelyn’s gaze, filled with dejection, “Because he told me last night that he just doesn’t love me.” 

Jocelyn was taken aback, “You asked him?” 

Marguerite nodded, and then a soft sigh reached her ears. 

Jocelyn gently tapped Marguerite’s forehead, her tone somewhat exasperated, “When did you become so impatient? Put yourself in his shoes. If someone who once betrayed you suddenly declares their love, could you just let bygones be bygones and respond warmly?” 

Though Jocelyn spoke thus, Marguerite’s heart still brimmed with resentment. 

She was stiflingly uncomfortable! 

Ever since she learned that Frederick had once intended to confess his feelings for her, her heart had never been at peace. She was desperate for an answer. 

But hearing Jocelyn’s words, Marguerite suddenly harbored a sliver of hope, “Jocelyn, are you saying I still have a chance?” 

Jocelyn smiled, “I didn’t say anything. Who knows what Frederick really feels? But opportunities are made, not given. Why not give it another shot?” 

Give it another shot? 

Frederick had been so harsh with his words, Marguerite felt as though he had blocked every path forward and back. 

How could she try? It seemed no matter what she did, the outcome wouldn’t be particularly good…

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