Chapter 919: Salem's Repulsion

Hannah wanted him gone. He'd chosen Lillian; they were finished. She rose to leave. Despite their difficult past, their relationship could end with a single word. That was it.

As she stood, he clasped her arm, his grip tight. His reluctance to let her go felt possessive, a stark contrast to a woman's desire for undivided attention. Men, she mused, pursued accomplishment; affections held little weight.

"Anything else?" Hannah asked calmly. She felt an unexpected calm, a surprising absence of the loathing she expected. Her hatred, it seemed, was entirely bound to him; his departure took it with him.

"Can't you stay a little longer?" Oscar pleaded, his voice low.

She wanted to refuse but, seeing his downcast face, relented. "Let go," she said.

She would stay, but the ambiguous atmosphere must end. Oscar slowly released her. Hannah sat, choosing a chair further away, emphasizing their distance.

Oscar watched her, seeing only detachment. He felt like a stranger in her heart. Before, she’d humored him; now, she could forget him entirely. She had endured much for his sake.

"Sal will be with you," Oscar said. "You can change his surname."

Hannah didn't object. Changing his last name would benefit everyone; Salem shouldn't bear their conflict.

"If you want to leave the country," Oscar offered, "I'll send you away."

"That's unnecessary," Hannah replied frankly. "As long as Salem and I are safe in Northfield, we don't need to go. My parents are old; they wouldn't adapt well to leaving."

Oscar's throat trembled. Unspoken words hung in the air.

Hannah looked at him. "Should I leave?"

He wasn't asking; he was telling her.

"Mhm," Oscar murmured softly.

Hannah chuckled. She'd tried to leave Northfield before, nearly dragging her family down with her. Now, she was being forced out.

"Give me a few days to prepare," Hannah suggested.

"One week," Oscar replied.

"All right," Hannah nodded. That should be enough time.

"Hannah, I'm sorry," Oscar apologized.

She smiled. "You don't need to say that."

Oscar hesitated, wondering if his apology was meaningless now that she had moved on.

"Let's both live well," Hannah said lightly.

Their hatred was gone. They'd helped each other—he'd aided her revenge, she'd helped him regain his position. Without Salem, their relationship would have been purely transactional. But Cian's death remained an insurmountable obstacle.

Silence fell. Oscar didn't leave. Hannah silently accompanied him.

"Hannah!" Michelle called from the hall. "Sal's sleepy; he's looking for you." Salem, as he grew, became increasingly dependent on her, unable to sleep without her.

"I'll be right there," Hannah replied, rising.

Oscar watched silently.

"If you want to sit a while before leaving, that's fine," Hannah said. "I'll go to Salem." She wouldn't return to say goodbye.

Without waiting for a response, she left, her hurried footsteps anxious. There was no reluctance in her departure.

Oscar remained, gazing at the night sky. Letting go of Hannah meant parting forever.

He rose and went to the living room, where Salem fussed in Hannah's arms. This, he thought, was Hannah's future—comfortable, warm, free.

He should have left, but he approached them.

"Are you leaving?" Hannah asked.

"I want to hold Salem," Oscar said.

Hannah hesitated; Salem was already upset. It wasn't ideal.

"Can I hold him a little?" Oscar asked again.

Hannah reluctantly nodded. This might be his last chance.

Salem immediately cried upon feeling his father's embrace, rejecting him. The rejection broke Oscar's heart.

Michelle rushed in, hearing the commotion. "What happened? Is he hungry?" she asked, holding a bottle. Seeing Salem crying in Oscar's arms, she flared up.

"When will you learn not to force him when he's upset?" Michelle snapped.

Oscar swallowed, trying to hide his hurt. Salem struggled, crying louder, almost suffocating.

Hannah didn't want to take Salem from Oscar. She understood his feelings, but Salem's cries became unbearable. Finally, Oscar returned Salem to Hannah.

Salem clung to Hannah, stopping his loud cries but sobbing quietly.