Chapter 222 Darling, Keep Going

In the past, Hill and the Wilchers only visited during the holidays. To him, they were strangers, their insatiable greed aside. Overlooking their behavior, he paid little attention, remaining completely unaware of the mistreatment Philippa endured. Now, I shattered the illusion of family bonds and struck a nerve with Bill. How could he possibly let it slide so easily?

Seeing his rising anger, Bill immediately softened his stance and reprimanded his wife, “What a disgrace. Go back inside and take it off right now!” When she returned, dressed in her own clothes, Bill wasted no time ordering them to leave the house. Linette hesitated, clearly unwilling to go. Bill glanced at the rest of the group and declared, “You’re disturbing my wife’s rest. I need you all to leave.”

For years, he had endured these freeloaders out of respect for my mother. He despised those who only came around with outstretched hands, so his patience had always been thin. The Wilchers never expected his demeanor to shift so drastically after just a few words from me.

Desperation filled Benjamin’s eyes as he turned to Philippa. “Philippa, say something. We’re family. Even if there’s a fracture, the bond still holds.” However, my mother has been struggling with severe morning sickness lately. Perhaps, after all these years, her trust in them had already faded.

From beginning to end, she stayed curled up on the couch, remaining completely silent. When Benjamin finally spoke to her, she replied coolly, “You can all leave. Zoey will take care of me.”

“Fine! You’re the real family, we’re not. Let’s go,” he muttered, attempting to smooth things over. Benjamin always resorted to this tactic to pressure Philippa. I had no doubt his next step would be dragging Granny into it, using her as leverage to force compliance. For two decades, his approach had always been straightforward and ruthless. Sadly, this tactic worked all too well on Philippa. But not this time. He’s bound to be let down because I understand what truly matters to my mother.

As Benjamin and his family left, Carter’s team secretly reached out to Granny. If they could free her from that oppressive cage, Philippa would finally be free to get a divorce without hesitation. Benjamin was unaware that his house had been robbed by the time he returned.

Once the Wilchers departed, Bill observed that Philippa appeared unwell, a flicker of worry crossing his face.

“Are you feeling sick?”

Philippa hunched over, too weak to respond, her stomach in great discomfort. Bill didn’t lack affection for my mother; he simply didn’t know how to express it. Used to the flattery of women like Monica, he’d had a falling out with Philippa during his younger years. As a result, he remained distant and never learned how to show care for women.

He reached out and placed his hand on Philippa’s forehead. “Was it this painful when you were carrying…?”

Philippa continued to ignore him. When she first discovered she was pregnant, she had considered accepting her fate and trying to live a good life with Bill. She thought of letting go of herself and Nicholas. But just as she made up her mind, she learned of Monica’s pregnancy, and that shattered any remaining hope she had. She stared at Bill with cold eyes and pushed him toward Monica.

How could Bill understand the discomfort she felt during her pregnancy? Only now did he realize that for the past 20 years, he had been too busy arguing with Philippa, never truly seeing her as a woman with her own fragility.

The maid standing nearby spoke up. “Pregnancy is hard on women. In the first few months, the symptoms are so severe that even blood can be vomited. The later stages are even harder, with sleep almost impossible. Mrs. Gardner isn’t doing well either, throwing up everything she eats, even just water. Normally, I wouldn’t say much as an outsider, but pregnant women need peace. Mrs. Gardner’s family has shown no care, constantly disturbing her rest.”

Bill’s face was filled with guilt and regret. “I’m so sorry, Darling. Let me take you to rest.” He bent down and tried to lift Philippa, but she reached up and patted his chest. “Let go, what are you doing? The baby is still here.”

“Stay still, you may feel sick again soon.” He lifted Philippa and carried her upstairs. I watched him go, letting out a helpless sigh. If only he had understood sooner, my mom wouldn’t have ended up in this state with him today. But sadly, there’s no remedy for regret in life. We can’t undo what’s been done. All we can do is keep moving forward.

Once we were back in the room, Carter had already finished washing up and was sitting on the bed, absorbed in a book. I took care of myself as well and slipped into my pajamas. He closed the book and subtly tugged at the edge of the blanket, the invitation clear.

Last night, our intimacy happened after a few drinks, but this sober moment felt like a first.

I hesitated and gently shifted to the edge of the bed, removing my shoes before slowly crawling toward him. Noticing my uncertainty, he asked softly, “Would you like the lights off?” I understood the meaning behind turning off the lights and with a soft whisper, I responded, “Yes.”

Although my time with Carter in this life has been short, we’ve known each other for many years. Over time, I’ve come to understand his thoughts, and my affection for him has deepened with each passing day. I’m only a little shy when it comes to things like this, but I don’t push them away. Carter is a thoughtful husband, always showing me respect in every way.

Once the lights were off, I lay still, my heart racing in the darkness. I felt nervous, yet there was a quiet sense of anticipation lingering inside me.

“Darling,” his voice was soft, carrying a touch of allure. That one word made my heart flutter.

“Do you want to do it?” he asked gently, without making a move. Thankfully, in the dark, he couldn’t see the flush spreading across my face. I whispered, “How about… you?”

He, unbothered by shyness, replied plainly, “I want to.” I could sense his intentions. Carter wanted me to make the first move.

Carefully, I edged closer, drawn toward the warmth he radiated. “Darling, hold me,” he guided softly, step by step. I wrapped my arms around his solid waist, resting my head against his chest. Through the soft fabric of his cotton pajamas, I could hear the powerful beat of his heart, almost loud enough to drown out everything else, and my own heartbeat seemed to sync with it. His breath brushed against my ear, carrying a tempting, seductive tone, “Don’t you want to touch me? Hmm?”

“Chloe, I’m your husband, don’t be shy.” My body trembled as I hesitantly traced the space beneath his clothes with my fingertips. His skin was soft and smooth under my touch. What I felt under my palm wasn’t flat. It had well-defined muscle contours, clear textures, and a firm…

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