Chapter 1135: Does it Hurt?

Oscar furrowed his brow, trying to hide his pain. He knew Hannah was doing this deliberately, likely as revenge. If it made her feel better, he could endure it.

"Does it hurt?" Hannah asked.

"If it makes you feel better, I can bear it," Oscar replied, through clenched teeth.

Hannah laughed. "I'm not a sadist."

Oscar was surprised. He'd expected coldness, or even her departure. He handed her the key, silently hoping she would stay. She seemed less annoyed than he'd thought. Hope surged, his heart racing.

"Are you still angry about what happened today?" Oscar asked, trying to remain calm.

Hannah hesitated. "I'm being rational."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just a man's instinct. I'm over it," Hannah explained.

Oscar felt relieved, yet frustrated. He knew that if another woman were with him, nothing would have happened.

"Hannah," Oscar said softly, his low, magnetic voice making her uncomfortable; it felt too intimate for their current situation.

Hannah didn't respond, but her waiting look implied he should speak plainly.

"I haven't touched another woman in years," Oscar blurted out.

"That's none of my business," she cut him off curtly.

"The videos on my computer aren't mine either," he quickly added.

Hannah knew he had better ways to satisfy his desires than watching those videos.

"Theodore put them on my laptop. I don't know when," he explained.

"No need to explain. I don't want to bring up today's incident again," Hannah said.

"Okay," Oscar nodded. "Does it hurt?"

Hannah was confused.

"Your lips are swollen," Oscar continued, his gaze fixed on her rosy lips.

Hannah bit her lip. She'd already said she didn't want to discuss it.

"I went a bit too far earlier. Did I bite you?" Oscar looked genuinely concerned, as if only her lips mattered.

"Can you just shut up!" Hannah snapped.

Oscar was taken aback by her outburst and fell silent. Hannah was furious. Why had he asked? Why hadn't he shown remorse for biting her? And now, this sudden kindness? It felt like a robbery. The room fell silent.

After applying medicine to Oscar's wound, Hannah prepared to leave. Oscar called out, "Hannah."

"What else do you want?"

"Thank you." He smiled brightly, looking ten years younger. It reminded Hannah of their meeting after the Mount Northfield accident; he'd been rebellious and carefree, unlike the composed man before her now. Without a word, she left. She'd been feeling nostalgic lately.

Oscar watched her go, his smile fading. But looking down at his hand, he smiled again.

Max emerged from Hannah's room, finding Oscar grinning foolishly—a rare sight unless Hannah was near. She was the one who could make him laugh wholeheartedly. Max hoped, after years of ups and downs, Oscar and Hannah would finally be together.

One week later, Susan's postpartum confinement ended. Cooped up, she craved shopping: bags, clothes, cosmetics, and her favorite foods—anything to release pent-up energy.

"You still need to breastfeed the baby," Justine said flatly.

Susan stared at Justine.

"Staring won't change anything. Unclean food will give the baby diarrhea," Justine stated. "I'm not stopping you from going out, but the baby needs feeding every four hours."

"Am I just a tool?"

"For this period, pretty much," Justine agreed.

Susan's eyes reddened. This was bullying. Didn't they say things would improve after confinement? Why the continued control?

"Mrs. Phillips, aren't you afraid of me getting postpartum depression?"

"Not really."

"Justine!"

"How could Manuel bear to see you depressed?" Justine glanced at Manuel, who held the baby.

He was focused on Susan and Justine, fearing Susan would feel wronged. He was always ready to mediate, knowing Susan couldn't compete with his mother.

"Well... that's true," Susan admitted, feeling better. Whenever Justine "bullied" her, Manuel comforted her.

"If you're going out, go quickly," Justine said, taking the baby from Manuel. "Three hours until feeding time."

"But didn't we say four hours?"

"Don't you need travel time?" Justine asked rhetorically.

"…"

"And rest? A shower?"

"…"

"I'm worried the baby's intelligence might inherit yours!"

Susan's face flushed with anger.

Manuel hugged her tightly. "Let's go! We'll have less time if we stay." With mother and wife together, their house could be a battlefield. If their daughter inherited Susan's personality, he couldn't imagine the lively chaos.