Over the next few days, the baby’s condition gradually stabilized. Everything finally seemed peaceful.
Brimming with hope and joy, Zoe Lancaster shared the good news with Claire Sutton.
Thrilled to learn of the pregnancy, Claire immediately went to the mall to buy baby clothes and toys, bringing them straight over to her.
"These are for a little boy, and these are for a little girl. I wasn’t sure what you were having, so I couldn’t help but buy a bit of both. Look how adorable they are," Claire said with a beaming smile, pulling the tiny outfits out and laying them down one by one.
Zoe gently stroked the beautiful clothes, her expression softening. "Aunt Claire, don’t waste your money right now. Things aren’t exactly easy for you and Autumn."
Claire had recently found a job at a cheongsam tailor shop. As a native of Sorina, she had spent many years doing traditional embroidery. Her craftsmanship was exquisite. Now that the mother and daughter had finally escaped their miserable past, they were full of hope and drive for the future.
Claire shook her head in disapproval. "You’re like a daughter to me, too. Having a baby is your number one priority right now. You don’t know the first thing about all this, so if I don’t help you prepare, who will?"
Zoe felt a sudden pang of emotion.
This was her first time going through this, and she naturally felt at a complete loss. Thankfully, she still had her aunt and cousin by her side.
"You look like you’ve lost weight. Is the morning sickness bad?" Claire studied her closely. Zoe was naturally slender, but now she looked even more haggard. Her small face seemed to have shrunk further, and her thin limbs were practically skin and bones. It was a heartbreaking sight.
Zoe shook her head. "I’m doing all right."
The baby didn’t seem to want to torment her too much; the nausea hadn’t been nearly as severe lately. However, the lingering gloom in her heart over the situation with Simon Hawthorne had caused her to waste away.
By now, Mr. Hawthorne had been transferred out of the ICU, his condition steadily improving.
Perhaps because Ken Lowell had found out about her pregnancy, the Hawthorne Family had stopped causing trouble for her. Or rather, because Simon had trapped her in Somerset Gardens, she had lost her freedom—but at the same time, the rest of the Hawthorne Family had been completely blocked from seeing her. Thus, she had been spared from any collateral damage.
Claire hesitated for a moment, gazing at Zoe. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. After a beat, she finally asked, "Zoe, why do I feel like you’re... not happy anymore?"
It was true. Even though Zoe was smiling, she had grown unnervingly quiet. Her smiles never reached her eyes, making her look like a hollow shell. As Zoe’s aunt—and practically a second mother to her—how could Claire not notice?
"Are you and Simon doing all right?" Claire hated to make such assumptions, but she was genuinely worried about her niece.
Zoe froze for a moment. She thought she had been hiding it so well. Meeting her aunt’s anxious gaze, a sour ache gripped her heart. She forced a bright smile and said, "We’re fine. Don’t overthink it, Aunt Claire."
She didn’t want to make the older woman worry. If Claire knew about her issues with Simon, she would only become anxious and upset over her inability to help. What would be the point of that?
Claire was still uneasy. Something just felt wrong. But she knew how stubborn Zoe could be; if the girl didn’t want to talk, she could only let it go. Squeezing Zoe’s hand tightly, she offered a tender, reassuring look. "No matter what happens, I will always be on your side. As long as you’re happy, I will support whatever choices you make and whatever you decide to do."
Zoe smiled, fighting back the urge to cry as her lips trembled slightly. "Okay."
Claire’s time off was limited, but she came to Somerset Gardens to keep her company whenever she had a free moment.
As for Simon, it had been more than half a month since Zoe had last seen him. They were like a couple at the bitter end of their marriage, fully entrenched in a cold war of separation.
The gentle warmth of the spring weather was exceptionally pleasant, and the carefully cultivated plants in the courtyard grew more vibrant by the day.
At ten o’clock that night.
Zoe had just finished her shower and was sitting at the vanity, drying her hair. She was about to go to bed when she heard a commotion downstairs. The sound of a car engine was unmistakable.
She paused.
A couple of minutes later, someone knocked on the bedroom door. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. "Mrs. Hawthorne? Are you asleep? Mr. Hawthorne is back."
The next moment, the door was pushed open.
Zoe looked up and saw Linden propping Simon up. The man was clearly intoxicated; his long legs were weak, and his head hung slightly as if he were completely drunk. Yet, in his arms... he was holding a bouquet of Pink Floyd roses.
He gripped them tightly, refusing to let go. Even though he was so drunk he could barely control his own body, he protected the flowers as if they were his most precious treasure.
Linden looked rather embarrassed as he said, "Mrs. Hawthorne, Mr. Hawthorne has had too much to drink. Could you please take care of him?"
Zoe curled her fingers inward. "You didn’t take him to The Imperial Residence?"
During all this time he hadn’t been home, she figured he was either at The Imperial Residence or staying with Peyton Joyce!
Linden helped Simon over to the bed. Only after the man was lying down did the assistant finally wipe the sweat from his forehead. "Mr. Hawthorne insisted on coming back here. As for the flowers...
"We passed by a florist on the way, and he absolutely refused to take no for an answer. He demanded to get out of the car to buy them for you."
Linden had been completely dumbfounded by his boss’s behavior. Dead drunk and barely able to stand, Simon had still insisted on picking them out himself.
He had even mumbled, "No camellias, she doesn’t like them. She doesn’t like red roses, either. She threw the last ones I gave her straight into the trash. Such a difficult woman. I’ll just have to keep giving her different kinds. Eventually, I’ll find one she likes!"
At that moment, Linden had genuinely thought Mr. Hawthorne was losing his mind. Usually so aloof and untouchable, yet when he was drunk, his every thought was consumed by... Zoe.
Zoe stared in astonishment.
Her gaze fell on the man lying on the bed. He must have been deeply uncomfortable. His brow was furrowed, a shadow cast by his straight nose, and his long eyelashes trembled slightly. Despite his state, he still refused to loosen his grip on the flowers in his arms.
Unable to put her complicated feelings into words, she finally just said, "Please go prepare some hangover soup. I’ll help him change his clothes."
"I’ll get right on it. I know exactly how Mr. Hawthorne likes it," Linden agreed instantly. He hurriedly shooed the maids out of the room. It was hard enough for the husband and wife to finally see each other; they were better off not getting in the way!
The door clicked shut.
Zoe walked over to his side of the bed and bent down to pat his arm. "Can you move?"
There was no response.
She patted him again. "Simon?"
This time, he slowly opened his eyes. They lacked their usual coldness, replaced by a soft, quiet, alcohol-laced haze. The moment he saw her face, he seemed to zone out for a second. Suddenly, he let go of the flowers, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her into his arms!
Caught completely off guard, Zoe tumbled against his chest as his hands locked around her waist. She frowned. "Si—"
His hoarse, drunken voice drifted into her ears. "For a split second, I wanted to forgive everything. I wanted to pretend nothing ever happened..."
Zoe froze.
Simon pressed tightly against her, his nose gently nuzzling the crook of her neck in a display of unspeakable devotion. "I used to be so incredibly excited to welcome our baby into the world.
"If only...
"If only this were our child. How wonderful that would be."
He sounded utterly drained. He probably had no idea what he was even saying. At this moment, he seemed remarkably vulnerable, holding her with a tenderness he had never shown before!
Zoe’s numb heart gave a heavy thump. But she knew this was just an illusion! This tenderness had arrived far too late!
Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Is it because you lost a child with Peyton Joyce that you care so much about this?"
His movements paused slightly, as if he were trying to process the meaning behind her words. Under the heavy influence of the alcohol, he vaguely sensed that something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Regardless of his reaction, Zoe asked calmly, "Why do you love Peyton so much? What is it about her that you love?"
When you loved someone, there had to be a reason!