For the following week, Zoe Lancaster didn’t see Simon Hawthorne at all. He seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth, completely absent from her life as if he wasn’t her husband at all. Zoe paid it little mind, forcing herself to fully immerse herself in her work so she wouldn’t dwell on it.
Over the weekend, Zoe treated herself to a rare sleep-in. She didn’t drag herself out of bed until past nine.
By the time she headed downstairs, the maids had already finished their morning chores. One of them, Mama Carter, stepped forward. "Madam, what would you like to eat today? I’ll make it for you right now." Mama Carter was the head housekeeper. Fluent in three languages and holding a top-tier culinary certificate, she was a master of various cuisines and cooked exceptionally well.
"Oat milk is fine," Zoe said casually. "Anything else is up to you."
Mama Carter chuckled and headed into the kitchen.
Zoe sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows, soaking in the sunlight. She realized this kind of life wasn’t too bad. She had food, drinks, and a husband who never came home. She thought to herself, "It’s quite worry-free, isn’t it?"
Her peaceful morning didn’t last long before the doorbell rang. Mrs. Young, an attendant who served the old madam at the Hawthorne Residence, arrived holding an exquisite thermos.
Zoe almost instinctively frowned. Mrs. Young poured the liquid from the thermos, revealing a bowl of thick, dark herbal medicine. "Young Madam, this is today’s dose. Drink it while it’s hot."
The Hawthorne Residence wasn’t far from Somerset Gardens; it took less than ten minutes by car. Eager to cradle a great-grandchild, the old madam sent someone over with a bowl of this herbal medicine almost every day. The prescription was written by a leading figure in domestic traditional Chinese medicine. It was said to work wonders.
The elderly woman naturally believed in such remedies, but it was torture for Zoe. Drinking this concoction was no different from a brutal punishment. The old madam was desperate for her to have a child, but the man responsible for planting the seed never came home. How was she supposed to get pregnant by herself? Even if she drank this medicine for the rest of her life, it would be utterly useless.
Zoe looked at Mrs. Young in distress. "Can I skip it this once?"
"Young Madam, the old madam means well," Mrs. Young sighed, offering a motherly persuasion. "She worries a lot about you two. Just humor an old woman in her twilight years. Be a good girl. The old madam specifically instructed me to make sure you finish every drop."
Zoe bit her tongue. Staring at the pitch-black medicine in her hands, she forced herself to gulp it all down in one breath.
She didn’t know if it was just her imagination, but the taste seemed slightly different from what she had been drinking over the past few days. However, it was just as repulsive.
"Did the doctor change the prescription?" Zoe asked.
Mrs. Young glanced at the empty bowl and smiled in satisfaction. "Perhaps. When picking up a week’s worth of medicine at a time, the doctor might adjust the ingredients based on your condition."
Zoe didn’t overthink it. Watching Mrs. Young pack up the thermos, she hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Has Simon Hawthorne been returning to the Hawthorne Residence these days?"
"He has," Mrs. Young replied without looking up.
Zoe understood clearly now. He had time to visit the Hawthorne Residence but couldn’t be bothered to come here, even though it wasn’t far away. He was probably only going back to see Peyton Joyce.
Settling back into her recliner, Zoe stared blankly at the bright, sunny sky outside. Pretending to be casual, she asked, "Could you tell me about Simon and Peyton? What happened in their past, and why didn’t they end up together?"
The question made Mrs. Young’s expression shift slightly, as if Zoe had touched upon a strict taboo.
After a long pause, Mrs. Young regained her composure. "I’m really not sure about that, Young Madam. I should head back to report to the old madam now. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask."
"Alright," Zoe replied softly.
After seeing Mrs. Young out, Zoe felt a stifling weight in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Not long after, her stomach suddenly churned. Covering her mouth, she rushed to the bathroom and threw up all the medicine she had just swallowed.
The nausea left her feeling drained for quite a while. She realized she had thrown up several times recently. It was a bit odd.
Zoe frowned. "Could it be..."
Her heart rate suddenly spiked. She opened her phone’s notes app to check her menstrual cycle. She was two days late. Had she actually gotten pregnant? Her thoughts immediately dissolved into a chaotic mess, a tangle of indescribable emotions. After mulling it over, she decided to book an appointment at the hospital.
Meanwhile, at the Hawthorne Residence annex.
Generations of the Hawthorne Family had lived at the Hawthorne Residence. The estate covered a massive area, with each household occupying an independent courtyard, ensuring that no one disturbed the others.
Having grown up in the Hawthorne Residence, Peyton Joyce also had a place of her own here. She was clearly in high spirits today. Wearing an apron, she busied herself in the kitchen, meticulously preparing four dishes and a soup. Careful and skilled, her creations naturally looked appetizing.
After the maids helped serve the food, Peyton washed her hands and stepped out of the kitchen. Her heart swelled with joy as she looked at the man working on the sofa. Walking over, she gently patted Simon’s shoulder. "Simon, I rarely cook, but I specifically learned a few dishes just for you. Come taste my handiwork."
Her good mood was perfectly justified. Simon had frequently made time to keep her company these past few days. Word had it that he hadn’t returned to Somerset Gardens at all. It seemed what she said that day had worked. Cooking for him like a wife, acting the part of a virtuous and loving spouse—it made her genuinely happy. She had been longing for days like this for a very long time.
Simon cast a mild glance toward the dining table before meeting Peyton’s expectant gaze. "You’ve worked hard. Just let the maids handle this from now on."
Peyton shook her head, sighing as if lost in memories. "It’s different. This is my way of showing I care. My dream used to be to personally cook for you."
Simon furrowed his brows slightly but ultimately said nothing.
After he walked over to the table, Peyton considerately served him a bowl of soup. "I heard you’ve been staying up late to deal with overseas corporate issues these past few days. I’ll give you a massage later."
Simon watched the woman’s serene, slightly shy smile. When he spoke, his tone was unhurried. It sounded like a lament, yet carried a coldness that felt like a needle prick. "Actually, you are a very good girl with a bright life ahead of you. Some things happen and cannot be changed. People eventually have to move forward. Peyton, it’s time to let it go."
Peyton froze. It was only for a second before she lowered her head to sip her soup. Her voice was soft and deeply affectionate. "I can let it go. But Simon, can you?"
It was such a gentle question.
Simon’s dark eyes churned as if a storm had been stirred within them, as if she had struck a hidden nerve. He remained silent for a long time.
That was until Shane Shaw walked in from outside. Looking straight ahead, Shane approached Simon, leaned down, and whispered a report into his ear. "Mr. Hawthorne, Madam went to the hospital today. She registered at the obstetrics and gynecology department."
Peyton didn’t know what Shane had said, but she couldn’t help observing Simon’s expression. She knew Shane was a bodyguard Simon had hired from abroad. He typically didn’t report on business matters unless it was something private...
For some reason, an inexplicable panic spread through her chest, making her hands tremble so much she could barely hold her spoon.
Simon’s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second, a fleeting glint flashing through his eyes before disappearing just as quickly.
He wondered why she went to the obstetrics and gynecology department. The only possibility he could think of was...
Setting down his spoon, he stood up almost instantly. His usual aristocratic composure now hid a different sort of emotion. "I have some matters to attend to. Go ahead and eat. I’ll come see you when I have time."