Chapter 51

“Do you have a death wish?” Heather yelled. “Naomi will be my only daughter-in-law. Forget any other ideas. If you dare divorce Naomi, just wait and see how your father deals with you. Don’t even think about getting a penny from us!”

Brendan rubbed his nose bridge impatiently at her loud scolding.

“I didn’t leave. I’m at home,” he said.

Heather paused, regaining her composure. “If you’re home, go comfort Naomi. There’s nothing embarrassing about a man comforting his wife. Also, Thanksgiving’s passed, and the year is almost over. I don’t expect grandchildren this year, but make sure Naomi gets pregnant before the new year. Otherwise, people will talk.”

Even if others remained silent, Heather herself had doubts. It had been over two years, and Naomi hadn’t conceived, despite normal check-up results. Could it be a problem with Brendan?

Brendan remained silent.

Heather continued, “Are you even listening? Hurry and go comfort Naomi. When a married couple quarrels, it’s always better to make up…”

Before she could finish nagging, Brendan hung up. He knew she wouldn't stop until morning.

He tossed his phone onto the bedside table and glanced at the bedroom door. Thinking of Naomi’s indifference, he lazily reclined on the bed. Two days ago, he’d humbled himself by visiting the Goodwin family residence; he wasn’t planning to repeatedly compromise his dignity.

In the opposite bedroom, Naomi, wearing black-framed glasses, was engrossed in her work. She had no time to think about Brendan or having children.

The next morning, Naomi opened her bedroom door to see Brendan, in pajamas, exiting the one opposite.

“You didn’t go out yesterday?” she exclaimed. “I wrongly accused you in front of your mother.”

Naomi’s straightforwardness earned her a disdainful look from Brendan. He seized the opportunity she’d created. “Everyone’s resting. Where are you going so early?”

Naomi smiled. “Some people are born lucky, but not me. No one treats me well or supports me, so I have to earn my own money.”

Brendan’s face darkened. He was being mocked again. He had to admit he’d given Naomi no money or gifts during their two-year marriage.

He didn’t respond to her taunt. Naomi approached and straightened his pajamas. “Are you feeling guilty? Then have a child with me. You don’t need to spend any money; just enjoy yourself.”

Brendan’s expression changed. He grabbed her chin. “Naomi, if you were a man, you would spare no woman from your damage.”

Though outwardly mocking, he felt relieved. The shameless Naomi was back, and the Thanksgiving incident could be forgotten.

After their argument, Naomi, while maintaining her verbal sparring, didn’t take much action. She didn’t cling to him as before, and this dissatisfaction made him feel something was missing. He grew even colder toward her.

One midnight, Naomi, sound asleep, was awakened by noises downstairs. She covered herself with a thin blanket and opened the bedroom door. Downstairs, she saw Brendan being supported by Mason. Brendan was unconscious.

Naomi frowned. “Mason, what happened?”

“Naomi, you’re awake. Please help me. I can’t carry Brendan alone. They had a gathering tonight, and Brendan drank too much.”

Naomi went downstairs. “He never overindulges like this. What happened?” She’d never seen him drunk since their marriage, the last time being at Maximus’ welcoming banquet, but this was different.

Mason leaned closer and quietly explained something to Naomi.