Chapter 1122: With Her Son
Hannah lay in bed with little Salem, who finally drifted off to sleep. She found it both amusing and slightly disheartening; she felt she owed him so much. She kissed his forehead.
"Mom..."
Startled, Hannah thought she’d awakened him. But as she reached to settle him, she realized he’d been murmuring, eyes closed, "Mom, don't leave me..." He was sleep-talking.
"Sal, Mom will never leave you again," Hannah whispered in his ear.
He seemed to hear her, and finally fell into a deep sleep. Hannah, having slept extensively earlier, had barely slept all night. With Salem beside her, she found herself reluctant to sleep, preferring to watch over him.
Dawn arrived, bringing with it a wave of drowsiness. She drifted off in a hazy state.
She awoke to a movement beside her. Frowning, she opened her eyes to see Oscar’s face inches away. She slapped him hard, exclaiming angrily, "What are you doing?"
Oscar's face reddened under the impact. "Mom," Salem cried, hugging her tightly. Hannah instantly remembered sharing the bed with him and felt terrible for her outburst.
"Mom, don't blame Dad. He came to wake me up and saw you weren't properly covered. He was just helping you with the blanket," Salem explained, genuinely frightened.
Hannah's understanding snapped back into place. She'd completely misunderstood Oscar.
"Let's go, Sal. We're going to be late for school," Oscar said calmly.
Salem obediently climbed out of bed, turning back to Hannah. "Mom, you don't have to go to school. You can sleep a little longer."
Hannah nodded, watching Oscar lead Salem away.
"Sal stayed up late; can he skip school today?" she asked, noticing the boy’s sleepy eyes.
"No," Oscar replied firmly. "Going to school is his responsibility now; he can't give up easily."
"He's only five years old."
"Habits are formed from a young age."
Hannah bristled, believing his health was more important.
"Mom, don't argue with Dad. I volunteered to go to school," Salem interjected, seeing his mother’s rising anger. "I didn't sleep well, so it's my responsibility. I can't blame anyone else."
Oscar had instilled an almost overly mature sense of responsibility in Salem.
"Bye, Mom." Salem offered a small smile.
"Bye." Despite the smile, Hannah remained upset with Oscar.
After they left, Hannah couldn't fall back asleep. She tossed and turned before finally rising and leaving the room.
Oscar sat on the couch, reading the newspaper, with Theodore beside him—though Hannah wasn’t sure when he’d arrived. She overheard Theodore’s joke at Oscar’s expense: "What happened to your face?"
Oscar ignored him.
Theodore continued, "Did you… impose? Honestly, I support you! There's nothing sex won't solve; if once isn't enough, twice or three times will do! With your ability…"
His words trailed off as he saw Hannah entering the room.
Hannah ignored them and went to the dining room for breakfast, leaving Theodore embarrassed. He asked Oscar, "Did I offend her?"
Oscar's look silenced him. Theodore, feeling inferior due to a debt he owed Hannah, felt increasingly uncomfortable.
"I just came to see your injury. I gotta work. See ya."
"Mhm," Oscar replied.
Theodore left dejectedly.
Oscar rose and joined Hannah in the dining room. She paused, then resumed eating; she couldn't demand he skip breakfast while under her roof. A servant brought his food. They ate in silence.
Oscar's injured arm hampered his eating. Hannah couldn't bear watching him struggle and cut his bread into smaller pieces.
Oscar looked at her. "You could just use your hands," she stated bluntly.
He'd been struggling with knife and fork. Her implication of his lack of cleverness elicited a surprising smile from him.
Hannah noticed, but attributed it to simple concern for his injury.
She put down her utensils. "I'm finished. Take your time."
"Hannah," Oscar said.
She frowned, wanting minimal interaction.
"On the coffee table, there's a phone. I got you a new number so Doyle won't bother you," he explained.
Hannah's eyes flickered. He'd simply gotten her a phone, not to harass her.