Chapter 3
After Jean left, I glanced at the silent upstairs, a disdainful smirk curling my lips.
The noise had been so loud, and Oakley, a notoriously light sleeper, couldn’t possibly have missed it.
I ignored Oakley’s pretense and, without a word, opened the fridge, pulled out the ingredients, and began simmering a pot of rich, nourishing soup.
Just as I was about to pour the soup into a thermos, Oakley finally made his appearance downstairs.
“Mom, my head hurts. Can you make me some medicinal soup?”
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I looked at Oakley, standing there, pretending everything was fine as he rubbed his temples. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
“Your sister’s still in the hospital because of you. I’m not asking you to care about her, but don’t waste my time.”
I didn’t want to waste another breath on a child, so I quickly packed the soup and, without a second glance, headed for the hospital.
Behind me, the sound of a plate crashing and a table being overturned echoed, but I simply pretended I hadn’t heard.
To my surprise, when I arrived at the hospital, Anson was already in the room.
The caregiver, who had been sent out to wait, hurried over as soon as she saw me. I
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handed her the soup and asked, “When did he arrive?”
“Less than ten minutes ago.”
I did the math in my head. Oakley must have called him. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. Without another word, I twisted the doorknob and entered with the caregiver.
The caregiver, always so observant, poured the soup and began spoon–feeding Chloe.
I stepped forward, gently touching my daughter’s forehead to check for a fever, then shifted my gaze to Anson.
“Eileen, we need to talk.”
Anson couldn’t stand being ignored any
longer and finally spoke up.
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Of course, I wanted to talk to him, but I would never have this conversation in front of Chloe.
Looking at my daughter, trying so hard to be strong as she smiled at me, my heart softened. I wasn’t completely alone. I still had Chloe.
“Chloe will stay here for a few more days for observation. I’ll come back tonight, and we’ll talk then.”
Anson seemed ready to argue, but when he followed my gaze to Chloe, he hesitated and kept quiet.
“Alright, we’ll talk tonight. Chloe, daddy has to go back to work, so I can’t stay with you any longer. Be a good girl, okay?”
Anson’s attempt at playing the doting father
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disgusted me, but he was Chloe’s father, and I couldn’t say anything. As I frowned, watching him, Chloe spoke up.
“Dad, I’m already sixteen. Don’t worry, I can take care of myself. You should go home early tonight. Mom’s waiting to talk to you.”
The caregiver had left after feeding Chloe, so she missed witnessing the Gates Group CEO’s face–changing performance.
I didn’t miss the sly glint in Chloe’s eyes. I knew exactly what she was doing–standing up for me and poking fun at her father.
I gently tapped Chloe on the forehead, causing her to grumble.
Seeing the two of us, Anson’s expression faltered, and he didn’t say another word. He turned and left, but in my eyes, he looked like
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someone who’d been humiliated by his own daughter and was fleeing the scene.
In the room, Chloe leaned back on the bed, her fingers gently tracing the fruit on the nightstand, lost in thought.
I didn’t interrupt her. I waved away the caregiver, signaling for her to stay outside, and waited quietly for Chloe to reach a conclusion.
“Mom, when you said last night you wanted to divorce Dad, you meant it, right?”
After a long pause, Chloe finally spoke, cutting straight to the point without any hesitation.
I looked at my daughter, whose eyes shimmered with unshed tears, yet she stubbornly held my gaze. My heart tightened
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such things to Chloe.
How much had my Chloe been silently enduring without me knowing?
“Mom, don’t cry. Fused to think Oakley was awful too, but he’s also Dad’s son. We’re a family. So, when he picked on me, I didn’t really harbor any hate toward him.”
Chloe reached out, wiping away my tears, and when she saw me smile, she continued.
“Mom, don’t worry about me. I’m staying with you, no matter what!”
Hearing that, I pulled Chloe into my arms. How wonderful–though my marriage had failed, the fruit it bore was sweet.
With Chloe’s support, I found myself wishing time would move faster, so I could settle
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morning, but tonight, I wasn’t in the mood to be polite.
“Put Anson on the phone, or I’ll come find him myself.”
There was a brief silence on the other end before Anson’s voice finally came through the receiver.
“Eileen, something came up.”
“Get back here now, or forget the conversation. Just call the lawyer.”
