Chapter 24

All Hayden received in response were Yvonne’s sad sobs. His brow furrowed as he propped himself up, reaching out to comfort her. But suddenly, she sat up, slipped out of bed, and drifted toward the door, tears streaming down her face as if he weren't even there.

Hayden hesitated before realizing—she was sleepwalking. He'd only ever heard stories; seeing it firsthand was a completely different experience. Yvonne reached the door and fumbled with the handle. It was locked from the outside, and she couldn't open it.

Hayden's eyes narrowed as the situation became clear—Deborah had gone to great lengths to get him and Yvonne in the same room. He turned back to Yvonne, who was now trapped. Her fists clenched as she pounded the doorframe a few times before sinking down beside it, her sobs subsiding into quiet heaves.

Hayden had never seen Yvonne so vulnerable. He approached cautiously, aware of the risks of startling a sleepwalker. In the dim light, she huddled by the door, her baggy pajamas swallowing her thin frame like a forlorn creature, evoking a deep sense of compassion. His gaze intensified, as if something within him was unfurling, winding around his heart. After a moment of silence, he sat down beside her on the floor.

In his mind, Yvonne had always been assertive and demanding, prone to bad habits and seemingly directionless. And yet, he had agreed to marry her—partly due to family pressure, and partly for reasons he couldn't quite articulate.

He'd expected things to revert to their old pattern upon his return home. But Yvonne had changed. She no longer clung to his every word and seemed barely to care about him. "Could someone really change that quickly?" he wondered. It was as if he were getting to know her all over again. She was knowledgeable about the company's projects and played the piano beautifully.

When he was drugged, she had stayed by his side. Though she later denied anything happened between them, a seed of doubt remained—had nothing really happened? If it had been the old Yvonne, she would have insisted on a shared moment, even if one hadn't existed. But this Yvonne was different in every way.

Hayden looked at her tear-streaked face, wondering what was truly happening behind those eyes. For the first time, he felt a distress similar to Dever's.

That night passed uneventfully.

The next morning, I woke with swollen eyes—had I cried in my sleep again? I rubbed my face, relieved to be in bed. Perhaps I hadn't sleepwalked after all.

After a while, Rita knocked and entered. "It's time to get ready. Mrs. Deborah Parker is waiting for breakfast."

I jolted, remembering Deborah's presence. "Okay, I'll get dressed right away," I replied, leaping out of bed, grabbing clothes, and starting on my makeup. Deborah always emphasized good manners and a neat appearance. Plus, I needed makeup to hide my puffy eyes; if she noticed, she'd assume Hayden and I had fought.

Once ready, I went downstairs and found Hayden already seated with Deborah in the dining room. The atmosphere was tense. I approached hesitantly. "Good morning, Deborah."

"Good morning, dear. Have a seat," Deborah said, showing no displeasure at my late rising. She looked at me kindly and added, "From now on, you don't need to wake up early. If you're running late, just have a servant bring your meal to your room."

I was surprised. When had Deborah become so lenient?

Before I could respond, she continued, "Hayden told me you were tired last night."

The servants immediately covered their mouths to stifle laughter. I quickly realized the cause and glared at Hayden. What had he said?

However, Hayden calmly ladled some soup and placed it in front of me. "Eat a little more."

Even Deborah chuckled.

I gritted my teeth, feeling my forehead throb.

"I'm glad to see how close you two have become," Deborah said earnestly. "I've heard from Henry about what happened at the hospital yesterday. Now that you've shared some intimate moments, make sure to get along well in the future. Don't fight like children anymore."

Some things were truly none of her business, but Hayden and Yvonne worried her. She felt the need to make her feelings clear.

I was embarrassed. But when I heard Deborah's words, I froze. Henry! The director? What had he told Deborah? Intimate? How could he mention that?

I quickly glanced at Hayden; his expression had changed. Oh no, was he becoming suspicious? Worried he might realize the truth, I quickly lowered my head and sipped my soup—Henry had really caused me trouble.

My anxiety escalated. Soon, I heard Hayden ask, "Grandma, what exactly did Mr. Hoffman tell you?"

"He told your grandfather and congratulated us on the soon-to-be-great-grandchild," Deborah replied cheerfully, turning to me. Now I understood her softened attitude; it was all because of this. Unfortunately, my relationship with Hayden was far from what they imagined.

Hayden didn't press further, probably too embarrassed to discuss details. But he definitely looked suspicious.

I quickly changed the subject. "Deborah, why did you return without telling us? Hayden could have picked you up."

"Once I heard about the great-grandchild, I couldn't stay at the church any longer. From now on, I'll be living with all of you. Once you're pregnant, I can take care of you," Deborah replied.

I dropped my spoon, my mind going blank. A day or two would have been manageable, but permanently! The truth would inevitably come out.

"Yvonne and I should be the ones taking care of you, Grandma. The Rosy House is nice, but it can't compare to the Parker residence, so maybe we should—" Hayden began.

Deborah waved him off. "Don't worry about me. I think this place is lovely—there are roses to admire. You young folks can live your lives. I won't bother you."

My eye twitched—clearly, Deborah had made up her mind. Anxiously, I searched for a polite way to decline.

But then, Hayden agreed. "Alright then, Grandma, do what you wish."

I stomped on his foot. What was he thinking? This was far from ideal!