“But you’re pregnant, and out there all on your own—how could Grandma Rivers possibly feel at ease? Especially after what happened this time…”
“I’ve heard about what went on with the Chase family, too. Grandma Rivers’s honestly not comfortable with those people in the old house either—she worries they might bully you.”
Cecilia Ye pressed her lips together. She truly hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. Was there really someone in the Chase family who resented her moving in that much?
“Grandma Rivers… actually, a lot of people have been very kind to me. My brother has been, too.”
“Then, then when will you come home to stay, hm? I’ve had Aunt Whitney keep your favorite dishes ready, just in case you come back—you’ll be able to eat them right away.”
The old lady squeezed her hand gently, letting out a soft sigh.
“It’s not just me—Grandpa Rivers misses you as well. If you haven’t forgiven Zhiyan, then forget about him for now. You can always come home and keep your grandparents company. I won’t let him come back to the old house.”
Being cared for like this, Cecilia Ye tried hard to hold back her tears, but they slipped down anyway.
“Grandma Rivers, I’m sorry… It’s my fault for making you all worry.”
“Oh, now, what are you two crying about? Zhiyan’s okay, and Cecilia’s having a baby—you should be celebrating, not crying…”
The old man let out a resigned sigh, mumbling as he spoke. Of course, he was concerned about Cecilia as well. After all these years with the Fu family, she was as good as one of them.
Fu Zhiyan couldn’t bear to see Cecilia Ye cry anymore. He frowned slightly. “Grandma Rivers, the Chase family stuff—Charles Chase will take care of it. Cecilia should choose where she wants to stay herself.”
“Alright… let her decide.”
Grandma Rivers let the matter rest, instead fussing over what Cecilia needed to pay attention to during her pregnancy, asking if her waist was sore, whether she’d had any leg cramps, and if she was still experiencing morning sickness.
Fu Zhiyan looked out the window, but his ears were attuned to every word. At the mention of these questions, his gaze darkened a little.
“It’s… alright. Some back pain, but I haven’t thrown up as much lately.”
Cecilia answered obediently, one thing at a time. Grandma Rivers immediately grabbed her phone and called Aunt Whitney, telling her to start working on new recipes.
“From now on, don’t eat anything from outside, okay? If you want anything, just tell Grandma Rivers. Aunt Whitney will make it for you.”
Because of the pregnancy, the two elders were so pleased that they lingered at the hospital for a long while before finally leaving.
After sitting on the sofa for ages, Cecilia Ye rubbed her back and stood up.
Fu Zhiyan was still frowning, but his tone was gentle. “Go lie down and get some sleep. You didn’t nap at midday.”
Cecilia didn’t object—she was always most tired around lunchtime and lay down on the little bed.
Originally, Fu Zhiyan had thought being injured and stuck in a hospital bed would be a blessing. Now, all he wanted was to get better quickly and take care of Cecilia.
But with Grandma Rivers and Grandpa Rivers’s words lingering in her mind, Cecilia found herself unable to sleep. Should she go back to the old house?
But her brother had told her to go back as well. And her mother… It’d been days since she visited. In a few more days, she’d be able to bring her mother home from the hospital.
She felt so conflicted, but deep down, she knew all the turmoil revolved around Fu Zhiyan. He hadn’t said a word.
Before, she’d always longed to go back herself—but after these days in the hospital, he hadn’t mentioned it at all.
There was a faint anxiety in her heart. Did he regret it—after she got so badly hurt, nearly died even—was Fu Zhiyan now having second thoughts?
She had always felt insecure, and now, pregnant, all her mixed feelings were bottled inside, making her prone to overthinking, spiraling deeper into worries.
…
Two days passed like this. The doctor said Fu Zhiyan could get out of bed and walk around—it’d help his wounds heal.
Cecilia usually slept until ten in the morning; Zhiyan would wake much earlier. Old Third would quietly sneak some food in.
It wasn’t an easy job: you had to look straight ahead, ignore everything, and most of all—never, ever glance at Madam.
He’d slipped up once on the first day and got a stare from the CEO that could have killed.
Zhiyan’s stitches were out and his wounds were scabbing over. After eating, he did as the doctor told him and took a slow walk around.
Bright sunlight flooded through the window.
Afraid Cecilia would have trouble sleeping, Fu Zhiyan walked over and drew the curtain a little.
While he was at it, he squatted beside her little bed, watching her sleep.
She slept so peacefully, the room quiet with the steady hum of the climate control. She only had a thin little blanket over her.
Her breaths were soft and shallow. Fu Zhiyan thought, Cecilia was just this sort of person—always trying to make herself as small and unobtrusive as possible, never asking for anything, never causing trouble.
She was lying on her side, and her little baby bump was obvious under the thin blanket, rising and falling gently with each breath.
Zhiyan had done the math—the baby had come from that night he’d brought her home from the bar, nearly five months ago.
He tried to restrain himself, but still reached out, wanting to touch her.
This was his and Cecilia’s child. Apart from one secret time, and again when he’d been injured, he’d barely dared to touch her belly.
He wasn’t a great father yet—let alone a great husband.
But he was sure, one day, he’d do much, much better.
Just as his hand was about to touch her, Cecilia stirred awake, blinking as she found him squatting in front of her, his hand hovering in midair. A little dazed, she blinked again, a trace of clarity in her eyes.
Before she could say anything, a wave of nausea rose up. She sat up quickly, covering her mouth, and made for the bathroom.
Zhiyan was startled and hurried after her.
“Cough…cough…”
The morning sickness wasn’t as bad as before, but mornings were still tough. Zhiyan rubbed her back with his left hand—his right was still weak—worry etched on his face.
Cecilia had gotten used to this, but the physical distress made her tear up regardless.
With his good hand, Zhiyan did his best to support her, grabbing a tissue to wipe her mouth.
“Does it hurt a lot, Cecilia?”
She shook her head, catching her breath. “I’m fine. Just a bit nauseous.”
He helped her back to the sofa, where she lay her little head against the armrest. Zhiyan squatted in front of her, watching her closely.
They were so close—the way they’d always been. For the years of their marriage, Zhiyan had always clung to her like this, as if he could never have her near enough.
But now, there was an awkward distance. Cecilia wasn’t sure what they were anymore.
Were they back together? But neither of them had said anything.
If they weren’t, then why was she always at the hospital, and why did Zhiyan act so oblivious? Maybe she was just overthinking…
Lost in thought, she gave Zhiyan a glare.
He looked puzzled and worried. “What is it? Do you feel bad?”
“Stop staring at me. You’re too close,” she said, closing her eyes, a little huffy.
A flicker of disappointment passed through Zhiyan. Cecilia still didn’t really like him being so near.
He stood and sat back on the bed, putting a bit of distance between them.
In her little heart, Cecilia convinced herself: maybe he really didn’t want to be close to her after all.