Chapter 13: It's My Gift

Winford's deep, magnetic voice sent a tingle through Ophelia's ears. Then, stunned, she asked, "What gift?"

"A bouquet," he replied. "Graham said it's been delivered. It's probably downstairs. Why don't you take a look?"

Winford had actually sent her flowers! Ophelia's foul mood vanished in her surprise.

"Alright! I'll go downstairs now!"

Sensing her joy, Winford smiled, his expression softening.

Phone in hand, Ophelia started downstairs. Opening the door, she saw Elva descending, carrying a beautiful bouquet. Stunned, Ophelia asked, "Where did you get those?"

Elva smiled complacently. "Mr. Pruitt wants me to have them. They're so pretty, aren't they?"

"Winford wants you to have them?" Ophelia was suspicious. Did Winford send both of us bouquets? Seriously? Her good mood plummeted.

Passing Elva, she went downstairs, asking the servants, "How many bouquets were sent?"

"One, of course." Madeline, noticing Elva, smiled disdainfully. "Mrs. Pruitt, don't tell me you think it's for you. It's a gift from Mr. Pruitt to Elva."

The other servants, intentionally or not, glanced at each other, thinking Ophelia was just like Winford's previous wives. After all, he'd sent flowers to Elva, not her. They exchanged knowing glances, anticipating drama.

Learning there was only one bouquet, Ophelia's upset subsided. She turned to Elva, extending a hand. "It's not for you. Give it back."

"Not for me? What makes you say that? Are you implying it's for you?" Elva scoffed, clutching the bouquet. "These roses are from Ventura University. They're Mr. Pruitt's reward for me, since I'm about to study there. You want these? Try getting admitted to Ventura University first."

Ophelia scoffed. "I hate to break this to you, but I was accepted last year. The bouquet is for me. Give it!"

Elva's heart sank. What? Ophelia is a student there, too? The other servants were equally stunned.

Gripping the roses tighter, Elva felt a bad premonition. Instead of relinquishing them, she stubbornly insisted, "I didn't see your name on the bouquet. Besides, Mr. Pruitt didn't say it's for you."

Ignoring her, Ophelia called the number from earlier. Elva panicked. "Wait…" But the call connected.

Ophelia said into the phone, "Honey, is your gift for me roses from Ventura University?" She put him on speaker.

Instantly, everyone heard Winford's voice. "Yes. Graham mentioned many students wanted them, so I had a bouquet delivered. Do you like them?"

Madeline's jaw dropped. The other servants stared at Elva, who froze, utterly humiliated.

"I do, but I don't have them," Ophelia replied, glancing at Elva.

Winford's voice deepened; she could almost see his frown. "What happened?"

Without hesitation, she revealed, "Elva has them. She said they're a gift from you to her and wouldn't give them back."

"You…" Elva glared, wanting to silence Ophelia. Simultaneously, Winford said, "I'm coming back," then hung up.

Elva's face paled. She knew Winford's anger well. Glaring at Ophelia with intense hatred, she shoved the bouquet into Ophelia's arms. "Here! I don't want them anyway."

Ophelia stepped back, refusing the bouquet. "You don't want them? But you were drooling over them a minute ago! Take them. I'll wait for Winford to come back." She sat on the couch. Elva seethed.

Soon, Winford returned. Hearing the door, Ophelia stood. "You're back!"

He nodded. Her radiant smile reassured him she hadn't been bullied, softening his expression. His gaze then fell on Elva.

"Mr. Pruitt…" Elva fidgeted, having placed the bouquet on the coffee table.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Beats me," Ophelia snorted, pushing his wheelchair as Graham stepped aside. "I was thrilled when you said you had a gift, and then downstairs, Elva claimed it was hers. How come?"

Winford also wanted answers. Frowning, he looked at Elva, awaiting her explanation.

"I… thought it was for me, Mr. Pruitt," Elva said, looking aggrieved.

Winford said, "You thought?"

Ophelia interjected, "Let's say you genuinely believed that initially. But you didn't return it after I said it was mine. And you laughed in my face! Your words were, 'Try getting admitted to Ventura University first.' Right?"

Elva froze, then glared with hatred and resentment. It was just a misunderstanding. Why is Ophelia making a big deal? Does she have to corner me completely?

Meeting Elva's gaze, Ophelia smiled emotionlessly. If it had been a misunderstanding, she would have let it go. But Elva's attitude was infuriating, and a lesson was needed.

Elva's eyes reddened as she looked at Winford. "Mr. Pruitt, you promised you'd give me a gift…"

Ophelia glanced at Winford, feeling a pang of bitterness. He was indifferent, yet seemed to care deeply for Elva.

Sensing her gaze, Winford paused, correcting Elva. "I never promised you a gift. When you received your acceptance letter, you asked for a reward, and I agreed as a courtesy to Bertha. But you still haven't decided what you want."

Realizing it was Elva's request, not a promise, Ophelia's spirits lifted. Elva, conversely, felt embarrassed, her cheeks burning. Am I overthinking this? Mr. Pruitt seems eager to distance himself…

"Well then. Tell me now. What do you want?" Winford's tone was flat, his patience thinning.

Glancing at Ophelia, Elva bit her lip. "I want a bouquet exactly like Mrs. Pruitt's!"

Ophelia's smile vanished as she looked at Winford. It was his first time giving her flowers. An identical bouquet for Elva would infuriate her. She glared at him, a mixture of fury and pity in her eyes, silently pleading, "Don't you dare say yes!"