Love Rents A Room
Chapter 104: His Grandfather’s Disappointment

Chapter 104: His Grandfather’s Disappointment

"Grandpa, what is this~"

Before Jeffrey could even finish, Philip barked, his voice a sharp lash against the air. "Are you still going to play the game, Jeffrey? Or are you truly so heartless that you don’t even understand what you’ve done to her?" His entire face twitched with anger, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "The only reason I still allow you to call me ’Grandpa’ is because I need to remind myself that you are my blood. Otherwise..."

His voice cracked.

Philip had gone to the police precinct to negotiate Liam’s release. That, at least, had been a simple matter. The true devastation had come when the detective had shown him the grainy surveillance footage from the bar that morning. Philip had watched in growing horror as the scene played out: his grandson, the boy he had once held with pride, the man he had hoped would carry on the family legacy—standing there, speaking to Caruso.

He hadn’t even needed to hear the words exchanged between them. The pieces fell into place like a noose tightening around his throat. Jeffrey had known where Joanne was when no one else did. He had known that particular security camera wasn’t working. And mere hours later, Caruso had tried to enter Joanne’s property from that exact side.

Philip felt sick.

He remembered, with painful clarity, the fury in Jeffrey’s eyes when he had been forced to leave four years ago. The bitter words he had spat, vowing to ruin the woman who had destroyed his life.

At the time, Philip had dismissed it as the reckless outburst of a wounded young man. He had even tried to protect Joanne’s identity in case his grandson’s anger festered. But he had never truly believed Jeffrey would take it this far.

He had trusted that, with time, Jeffrey would learn. That he would grow. That he would become better.

And now...

Now, he stood before him, a stranger in familiar skin. A man who had proven him wrong in the most unforgivable way.

How could he do that to Joanne of all people? He lived with her under her roof, ate her food, saw what she was all about and still he couldn’t get over his grudges?

What kind of man was his grandson?

Philip wanted to hit him. He wanted to punish him, to shake him until he understood the weight of what he had done. But more than that, he wanted to grieve—for the grandson he had lost to resentment, for the boy who had once looked up at him with shining eyes, full of promise.

How had it come to this?

Jeffrey’s breath hitched. He saw the war raging behind his grandfather’s eyes—the fury, the betrayal, but also the sorrow. And somehow, that hurt worse than any strike ever could.

"I was drunk, Grandpa," he admitted, his voice hoarse with shame. "It’s not an excuse, I know..."

Even through the haze of alcohol, Jeffrey had known—somewhere deep inside him—that the man he was speaking to wasn’t good. There had been a warning bell, muffled but present, whispering that he was crossing a line. And yet, he hadn’t stopped. He had let the bitterness, the resentment take control.

He wanted to blame the drinks, to convince himself it was just the liquor speaking for him. But that would be a lie. Even at his most intoxicated, he had still been aware enough to make a choice. And he had made the wrong one.

His chest tightened as a chilling realization settled over him.

Philip let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Drunk. You were drunk when you ran away that night, too." His voice was raw, his disappointment so thick it felt suffocating. "Is that how you intend to justify yourself? Stumbling through life with no accountability? How did I raise you wrong?"

Jeffrey flinched. The words cut deep. Because the truth was, he didn’t have an answer.

Jeffrey fell to his knees. His voice was raw, desperate. "Grandpa, I’m not going to run away anymore."

Philip’s gaze hardened, but he said nothing. His eyes flicked to Jeffrey’s bandaged knuckles—evidence of a fight fought in her defense. A contradiction. A man who had nearly destroyed her, yet saved her before it was too late. Philip acknowledged that. Still, the betrayal lingered. He had expected more from Jeffrey. He had believed in him.

Jeffrey took a shaky breath, his shoulders trembling. "Her cousin is suing her. Someone is sabotaging her logistics company. And..." His voice faltered as he bowed his head, struggling to steady himself. "She acts strong, like she can handle everything alone. But... Grandpa... she needs someone. She needs help. She doesn’t know how to ask for it, but she does." He forced himself to look up, meeting Philip’s unyielding stare. "I want to help her. I have to help her. I love her."

Philip’s jaw tightened. "Love?"

He studied Jeffrey carefully. For the first time in years, there was a clarity in his grandson’s eyes that almost made him want to believe him. Almost. But could he trust it? Could he trust him?

Jeffrey had already proven he was capable of hurting Joanne in ways she didn’t even know yet. What if this was just another selfish impulse? Another excuse to keep her in his orbit, only to break her again?

"Then start by telling her who you really are," Philip said, his voice quiet but firm. "Tell her what you did this morning."

Jeffrey froze. His breath hitched, and in that instant, Philip had his answer.

"You can’t." Philip exhaled sharply, disappointment cutting deeper than his anger ever could. "That’s why you’re coming with me. Now."

His tone left no room for argument. He couldn’t allow Jeffrey to stay. Not like this. Not when the truth remained buried beneath his guilt. He had to protect Joanne from further pain. But at the same time, part of him wanted—needed—to see what path Jeffrey would take from here. Would he choose to be a better man? Or would he let his own cowardice win?

Jeffrey clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His mind raced for a way out, a way to stay.

Then, he played his last card.

"She might be pregnant."

The words dropped between them like a thunderclap.

Philip stilled. Jeffrey swallowed hard, waiting, knowing—hoping—this would change everything.