Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted-Chapter 119: He Said It Was Only an Act

After he finished speaking, I didn’t respond.

Even while cooking afterwards, I didn’t say a word to Mason.

An hour later, dinner was finally ready.

Although I wasn’t familiar with Mason, and there was a slight unpleasantness in the kitchen, it was a bit awkward during the meal.

Fortunately, Sharon kept talking to her father, and their interaction somewhat eased the atmosphere at the table.

However, Doris was silent the whole time and didn’t eat much.

At this moment, Mason said to Sharon, "It’s almost New Year, Daddy will take you home, okay?"

Sharon suddenly hesitated. I thought she’d be happy, but the little girl looked at me a bit reluctantly and said, "Daddy, why is Mom not as good to me as Auntie Ellison? If I go back with you, will Mom still dislike me?"

Mason was too embarrassed to answer.

He sighed, tenderly touching his daughter’s head, and said, "Sharon, you’ve lived at Auntie’s house for a long time, staying longer might disturb them. Besides, Auntie Ellison also has her own daughter to take care of."

Sharon said, "I’ll be good and not let Auntie worry about me."

I thought that if Sharon went back, she might have to endure that painful experience of looking at people’s expressions again, so I said, "Mr. Hawthorne, Sharon is indeed very well-behaved. If she wants to stay, let her stay with me."

Mason said awkwardly, "I’m really sorry that family matters have caused you to laugh. My wife, she... never mind, I won’t say it."

"It’s okay," I said with a deeper meaning, "Every family has its issues, I understand."

Hearing that she could stay, Sharon finally smiled again and said to Mason, "Daddy, can you often come to Veridia to see me? That way, I can see Dad and be with Auntie Ellison; that would make me so happy!"

At this time, Doris pouted and said, "Don’t you have your own mom? Why do you always like to be with someone else’s mom?"

The air at the dining table instantly froze after Doris’s words.

Sharon’s smile stiffened, and a deep loneliness appeared on her little face.

My heart tightened, and I immediately scolded Doris, "Doris, apologize."

"I won’t!"

Doris slammed her chopsticks on the table and angrily said, "You’re just biased!"

After speaking, she got up and ran to her room, slamming the door shut with a "bang".

I quickly looked at Mason and Sharon, apologetically saying, "Mr. Hawthorne, I’m really sorry, Doris is immature, I’ll educate her properly."

Mason, however, just smiled and waved his hand, gently patting Sharon’s back to comfort her. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"It’s okay, Miss Ellison, kids are innocent. They’re just afraid you’ll ignore them while caring for someone else; it’s normal to be a bit jealous. You should go comfort Doris, don’t let her feel wronged."

He paused, then added, "I booked a room at a nearby hotel tonight. I plan to take Sharon around Veridia for a few days and send her back after she’s had her fun. Sorry to trouble you."

I quickly nodded and agreed, "You’re too polite. Sharon is so well-behaved, I’m happy to take care of her."

After dinner, Mason took Sharon and left.

After cleaning up the dishes, I walked to the bedroom door.

As soon as I opened the door, I heard the sound of quiet sobbing inside.

I leaned helplessly against the door frame, asking, "Why are you crying? Where did that fierce energy go?"

"None of your business!" Doris buried her head in the pillow, her voice filled with sobs.

I deliberately followed her words, "Alright, if it’s none of my business, why are you still staying at my house?"

These words made Doris go silent instantly. She lifted her head sharply, glaring at me with red, tear-filled eyes, but couldn’t come up with a rebuttal.

This child is just like Timothy, both stubborn and domineering. The more you console them, the more they take advantage, so I refuse to pamper her.

"If it wasn’t for Sharon inviting you over, you’d still be staying all alone at The Xavier Manor right now."

I looked at her seriously, saying, "If you always take others’ kindness for granted, no one will be willing to be nice to you in the future. Think about that."

After saying that, I turned around and went to the study to turn on the computer and write my novel, not comforting her any further.

Until after ten o’clock at night, the door of the study was gently pushed open a crack, and Doris peeked her head in, her voice small like a humming mosquito, "Why hasn’t Sharon... come back yet?"

My fingers didn’t stop typing, and I said deliberately, "You drove her away!"

She hung her head, reluctantly saying, "I... I’ll apologize to her tomorrow, alright?"

Only then did I turn around and say, "Of course you should apologize. When you see her at the kindergarten tomorrow, tell her yourself. It’s too late now, go wash up and sleep."

Doris looked at me incredulously, "You want me to wash myself?"

I frowned, reminding her, "How did you treat me last time when I bathed you?"

She immediately remembered how she had smeared the shower gel on the floor last time, causing me to fall and scolding me.

The little girl clutched the hem of her clothes, sullenly saying, "I won’t do it again."

"You’re already four years old, and you still can’t dress yourself properly; does this make sense?" I continued.

But Doris pouted defiantly, "What about Sharon? Can she wash herself? You can take care of her, why can’t you take care of me?"

"Sharon not only bathes herself but can also comb her own hair every morning," I watched her eyes filled with disbelief and added, "You can ask her tomorrow if you don’t believe me."

Doris bit her lip and said defiantly, "It’s just bathing myself, I can do it too!"

I got up to run water for her in the bathroom and found a clean pajama from Sharon to hand to her.

She frowned, saying with disdain, "I don’t wear other people’s clothes."

My face turned cold, and my tone hardened, "Then you’ll just stay naked."

Doris was choked by my words, angrily grabbing the pajamas.

I reminded her, "Don’t forget to thank Sharon tomorrow, and apologize to her too!"

"Got it!"

Her voice was muffled, with a hint of reluctance, but she didn’t argue back.

After taking a bath, I wanted to arrange for her to sleep in the guest room Sharon used, but she said, "I don’t want to sleep alone, I’m afraid of the dark! Before, I always slept with mom..."

At this point, she seemed to realize she said something wrong, and quickly glanced at me, saying, "I...I mean... can you sleep with me?"

The little girl’s eyes were soft, and in the end, I agreed.

"Then you go to bed first, I still have some work to do, I’ll sleep a bit later."

She nodded obediently and walked to my bedroom.

At night, I wrote my novel until the early morning. When I returned to the bedroom, the little girl was already asleep.

The blanket was kicked to the side, and her little face was flushed red.

I shook my head helplessly, tucking the blanket back over her.

Although being with her now, I no longer feel the excitement of first finding my biological daughter. Still, perhaps it’s the mother-daughter bond, seeing her sleeping peacefully, my heart softened.

...

The next day, when I went to pick up Doris from school, as soon as she got in the car, she told me, "Sharon’s dad took a leave for her. I intended to apologize to her, but she’s not coming for a few days."

I thought, Mason rarely comes by, probably wants to spend a few days playing with his daughter.

"Probably her dad took her out to play."

While explaining to her, I was driving.

Doris asked in a low voice, "Will she come back to kindergarten after she’s had enough fun?"

I smiled slightly, "What? You’ll miss her when she’s gone?"

"No way!"

Doris said stubbornly, "Didn’t you tell me to have a grateful heart? I just want to apologize and thank her in person."

Days quickly went by until the day Doris started winter break.

In the past few days, I stayed up several nights to meet my deadline and caught a cold at night accidentally.

When I woke up in the morning, I felt burning all over; my temperature even rose to 39 degrees when measured.

It was still snowing outside, the snow on the ground had piled up thick, even delivery was suspended.

Lying in bed, I didn’t even have the strength to lift my hand.

Seeing Doris looking eagerly at me, waiting to eat, I weakly said, "Go to the snack cabinet and find some cookies to fill your stomach. Today... I’m too weak to cook for you."

Doris nodded, turned around, and brought back some cookies and snacks.

But she didn’t open them immediately. Instead, she came to my side, her little brows furrowed tightly, "What are you going to eat? Dad used to say when sick, you should take medicine, so why aren’t you taking any?"

I sighed, my voice raspy, "We’re out of fever-reducing medicine at home, and deliveries are hard now. Let me rest for a bit. You go eat first!"

After speaking, I just wanted to close my eyes for a while.

But soon, I heard a soft sobbing beside me.

I forced my eyes open, looking at Doris with her red, tear-filled eyes, helplessly asking, "Why are you crying again?"

She wiped her tears, sniffled, and said, "Will you die? Before when I had a fever, Nanny Lowell said I almost didn’t make it..."

I was taken aback, my heart sour and soft, deliberately teasing her, "If I die, will you be sad?"

Doris sniffed, turned her face away, stubbornly said, "I wouldn’t be before, now... it’s just a little bit sad."

Seeing her contradicting expression, I felt both amused and heartbroken.

But I was feeling really uncomfortable from the fever, so I cautiously asked, "There’s a pharmacy at the entrance of the community, can you help me buy a box of fever-reducing medicine?"

I actually didn’t have much hope.

Back in the Xavier Family, Doris was spoiled, always surrounded by people, she only learned to dress herself after coming here.

Let alone buying medicine.

But Doris immediately nodded and said, "Then give me the money, and tell me what medicine to buy."

I was a bit worried, asked, "Do you know the way back?"

"Of course I do!" she said confidently, "Every day on the way to kindergarten, we pass that store, I remember it clearly."

I wrote the name of the medicine on paper, handed it to her, and gave her money, repeatedly reminding her, "Buy the medicine and come right back, don’t cross the street, just the store next to our community, don’t run around."

"Got it!"

She responded impatiently, yet obediently folded the note and placed it into the pocket of her down jacket.

I asked her to take her phone and stay on the call after stepping out.

Not long after, she returned.

The little girl’s cheeks were bright red from the cold, and she held the medicine box tightly in her hand, saying, "Look, aren’t I amazing!"

My nose tingled with a hint of emotion, and I nodded approvingly, "Yes, you’re amazing!"

She seemed greatly encouraged and said, "Wait here, I’ll get you some water."

She ran over to the water dispenser and poured me a cup of warm water.

As I looked at the cup of water and medicine she handed over, my eyes suddenly felt warm.

I always thought this child was spoiled, but away from The Xavier Family, without anyone to spoil her, she actually understands everything.

"Thank you."

I said this with a bit of a choke in my voice.

She turned her face away as if scalded, saying, "What’s there to thank for? It’s just buying some medicine, not difficult at all."

After taking the fever reducer, my temperature slowly dropped in the afternoon.

And today, Doris was especially well-behaved, just sitting beside me reading a fairy tale book.

Occasionally, she would put down the book, gently touch my forehead with her small hand, and frown, asking, "Now that it’s cool, does that mean there’s no fever?"

I was amused by her seriousness and said, "You don’t even know how to feel for it, so why do you keep touching it?"

She, however, seriously said, "When I had a fever before, Daddy kept touching my forehead like this, saying it would help me get better faster."

I looked at her and said, "Sorry, I made you eat cookies all day today, all junk food."

But Doris shook her head and blinked, saying, "I actually like eating cookies. But you haven’t eaten anything today, are you hungry?"

"I’ll rest a little longer, then I’ll go to the kitchen and cook some noodles for you."

I said this with my mouth, but my body was still too sore to want to move.

And so, I drifted in and out of sleep all day, dazed.

In the evening, the doorbell rang.

Doris’s eyes lit up, saying, "Could it be that Sharon’s dad brought her back?"

After all, it had just been me and her at home these days, and she was quite bored.

So she also wanted Sharon to come back and play with her.

I reminded her, "When you see Sharon’s dad, be polite, and be nice to Sharon."

"Got it!"

After saying this, she got off the bed and ran to open the door in her slippers.

At that moment, the voice that gave me a headache came through: "Daddy! You’re back! I missed you so much!"

Soon, Timothy Xavier’s voice also reached my ears: "Baby, Daddy missed you too. I rushed over right after I got off the plane. Have you been good recently?"

"Of course, I’ve been very obedient. It’s just... she’s sick..."

Doris’s voice gradually lowered.

I instinctively frowned; the name ’Timothy Xavier’ made me feel physically repulsed now.

Very soon, Timothy Xavier came in with Doris in his arms.

"What happened to you?"

A trace of concern spread across his brow.

Doris slipped out of his arms and explained, "She’s got a fever! She seems very uncomfortable."

Timothy Xavier bent down, reaching out to touch my forehead.

I instinctively turned my head to avoid his touch, my voice cold and hoarse: "You don’t need to worry about me. If you’re here to pick up Doris, you can take her now."

His hand froze in mid-air, his eyes darkened, yet he didn’t withdraw it, instead persistently reaching over again.

When his fingertips touched my skin, his brows furrowed even tighter: "This hot? You’re my wife, how can I leave you like this? What kind of person would I be?"

After saying that, he didn’t look at my expression, directly taking off his suit jacket and hanging it on the coat rack.

He turned to Doris and said, "Baby, stay here with Mommy for a while. Daddy will go to the kitchen and make you something to eat."

Doris’s eyes widened in surprise, asking, "Daddy, you can cook?"

I also instinctively glanced his way.

In my memory, Timothy Xavier had never been in the kitchen.

As expected, Timothy Xavier was momentarily stunned by his daughter’s question, showing a bit of an awkward expression, and said awkwardly, "I couldn’t before, but I can learn now. Wait here patiently, Daddy will be quick."

After he left, Doris walked to the bedside and looked at me with a bit of dissatisfaction: "Can’t you treat my dad a little better? He’s clearly trying to take care of you with good intentions, why are you always driving us away? Dad just came over as soon as he got off the plane, he’s really tired too."

I leaned against the headboard, closed my eyes, and said nothing.

It’s not that I don’t want to argue, I really have no energy.

More importantly, Doris was raised by Timothy Xavier himself, in her heart, Timothy Xavier is always the most important.

The entanglements between me and Timothy Xavier, my hardships, even if I break them apart and explain them, she won’t understand.

It wasn’t long before a distinctive burnt smell wafted into the room.

Doris immediately reacted, quickly running towards the kitchen.

Soon after, her voice complaining came through: "Dad! You’re too clumsy! Even when cooking plain porridge, you can burn it."

After a while, Timothy Xavier came in with a glass of water and said: "You should take your medicine first, as for food... I’ll ask Jack Sullivan to bring it over later."

As he spoke, he was about to make a phone call.

I stopped him: "In such snowy weather, it’s difficult for delivery service, why do you have to bother Jack Sullivan? I’ll cook some noodles for myself when I feel better, you should hurry and take Doris away."

Timothy Xavier didn’t leave, instead sat down on the chair next to my bed.

His body leaned slightly forward, eyes fixed tightly on me, with a hint of subtle probing in his tone: "You’re still angry about Serena’s pregnancy, aren’t you?"

My eyelids felt as heavy as if they were weighted down with lead, listening to this just made my heart feel even more weary, I simply closed my eyes directly, didn’t even have the strength to argue with him.

Some things, no matter how much you explain, it doesn’t help, he always has his own reasons.

Timothy Xavier saw I didn’t answer, and started to explain on his own: "Serena didn’t have the child aborted, it wasn’t because I wanted to keep it, it’s Julian Sinclair who’s been targeting Xavier Group lately. Every step of Xavier Group is crucial now. If Serena aborts the child at this time, public attention will make Xavier’s situation even more precarious."

I finally spoke up, "The whole internet is expecting your good news now. Timothy Xavier, let’s proceed with our divorce as soon as possible, otherwise, this counts as bigamy."

His eyebrows furrowed deeply, obstinate and hopeless: "Zoe, with her it’s just a temporary act! I need her business value now, but I absolutely won’t marry her. Of course, I also won’t divorce you."

I couldn’t help but laugh, saying: "Timothy Xavier, I used to think Serena Sawyer might mean a bit more to you. But now it seems you’re equally unfaithful to every woman."

Timothy Xavier’s gaze gradually lowered.

He fell silent for a few seconds, his voice was very low: "Zoe, do you remember that snowy night I came to find you? Actually, I stood downstairs for a long time, I saw you with Julian Sinclair, and that child building a snowman in the snow. I... felt very sad, that night, I thought a lot. I used to think I only had sibling affection for you, but now I realize, what I feel for you is romantic affection."

I just felt a physiological nausea, word by word: "Timothy Xavier, can you stop saying these things that make me sick? We’ve known each other for over twenty years, been married for more than four. Four years ago, you proposed to me with a ring, saying you wanted to spend a lifetime with me. Now you’re telling me you can’t distinguish between sibling affection and romantic love?"

He suddenly held my hand, saying: "Zoe, can you give me another chance? I promise I’ll handle Serena’s situation soon. Even if she gives birth to the child, I absolutely won’t let the mother and child affect you. I’ll arrange for them to go abroad, so they won’t ever return to disturb you and Doris. As long as you nod, I’ll take care of everything else, okay?"

I forcefully pulled back my hand, took a deep breath, fatigue engulfed me like a tide.

I just wanted to gently sleep for a while, escaping from all this suffocating.

"Timothy Xavier," I said with my eyes closed, voice weak like a breeze, "can you leave first? I’m tired, I want to sleep."

He slowly released his grip, stood up to tuck the quilt corners for me, saying: "Okay, you rest well. Think carefully about what I said."

...

This fever seemed to drain all my energy.

When I woke up, it was already daylight.

My head was still a bit dizzy, but the pain caused by the fever had subsided, just my limbs were still a bit weak.

Beside me came the sound of regular breathing, turning my head to look, Doris was curled up in the quilt, sleeping soundly.

Upon hearing my movement, she unconsciously turned over, smacked her lips and continued sleeping.

I felt a trace of doubt.

Last night, did Timothy Xavier not take Doris back?

Just as I was thinking, light sounds of pots and pans clashing came from outside, my heart tightened, I immediately got out of bed, put on slippers, and hurriedly walked out.

At the kitchen door, Timothy Xavier was bending over watching the pot on the countertop.

Upon hearing footsteps, he turned to look at me, naturally as if he were at The Xavier Manor: "You’re awake? Has the fever subsided?"

"Why are you still here?"

I frowned at him, saying: "Timothy Xavier, this is not your home."

Timothy Xavier seemed not to hear my question, he turned off the gas stove, carefully lifted the pot, walking towards the dining table as if presenting a treasure.

"This time it should’ve cooked well! Try it, this time it didn’t burn."

I followed his actions and looked at the kitchen corner, where there was a large plastic bucket conspicuously placed.

Approaching it, I saw the bucket was filled with over half of ruined porridge.

I just felt a dizzy head.

If it were in the past, Timothy Xavier willing to cook for me, even just like now with a bowl of plain porridge, I might have felt pampered, even happy for several days.

But now, staring at that bland bowl of porridge, I couldn’t stop my mind from conjuring the full table of delicious dishes prepared by Julian Sinclair.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Timothy Xavier already scooped a bowl of porridge, using a spoon to scoop up a spoonful, gently blew on it near his lips, then handed it to me.

His gaze was exceptionally serious, tone carrying a hint of coaxing: "Zoe, try a bite."