Chapter 402 His Promise

“Yes, I did say that. Well? Did the papers get signed?”

Dalton suddenly fell silent.

Meryl wasn’t surprised. If he’d really gotten the divorce papers signed, he would’ve shoved them in her face by now.

“Meryl, I really want to end things with her, but…”

He hesitated, leaving out the fact that Chandler had shown up out of nowhere and put a stop to it.

He grasped Meryl’s hand tightly, urgency lacing his words. “I promise you, I’ll be divorced within a month.”

At that moment, Dalton was a mixture of infuriating and pitiful.

Meryl tried to pull her hand away, but he held on like she was a lifeline.

Suddenly, he yanked her into his arms, holding her close as if he was afraid she might disappear.

Their bodies pressed together, and Meryl was taken aback by the unexpected warmth of his embrace.

The faint scent of his aftershave wafted over her, but any fragrance made her stomach churn.

Before she could think, she pushed him away and dashed to the…

The sandwich she had eaten earlier made a hasty exit.

Watching her suffer from morning sickness, Dalton felt a sharp pang of sympathy.

When she finally emerged, he handed her a glass of water, worry etched across his face.

Meryl took a sip, feeling a bit of relief wash over her.

The water had a strange salty taste, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I consulted a doctor,” he explained, his tone earnest. “They said a little salt can help with nausea.”

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“If you’re feeling unwell, just lie down for a while. I’ll whip up something else for you,” he insisted, already heading back to the kitchen without waiting for her response.

Meryl didn’t feel sleepy at all.

Instead, she sank into the couch and turned on the TV, trying to distract herself while sneaking glances at him.

In the open kitchen, she watched Dalton bustle around, wearing an apron.

His usual stoic demeanor softened as he cooked for her, acting like a man preparing a meal for his wife with his child.

Meryl absently brushed her fingers over her belly, her heart heavy with mixed emotions.

Perhaps the fading love was what made her feel so detached.

Thoughts raced through her mind about how she had been stuck here for a week, longing for an escape.

As she drifted in thought, Dalton emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of food.

“I made you some pasta,” he said, setting it on the coffee table. “It’s light, so you should be able to keep it down this time.”

Noticing her slumped posture, he moved closer, his intent clear as he offered to feed her.

Meryl turned her head slightly. “Thanks, but I can manage on my own.”

He settled beside her, his eyes fixed on her as she ate.

It had been ages since they’d shared a moment like this, and it felt strangely comforting.

The woman he yearned for sat beside him, and for a brief moment, it felt like they were transported back to simpler times.

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender.

“Meryl, I want to spend my life like this with you,” he said quietly, glancing at her belly. “I’ll treat this child as my own, a good father.”