Chapter 47
"Get plenty of rest, don't drink cold water, take your medicine on time, and call me anytime if you need anything."
Arthur, who was usually so terse with Caroline, now spoke with genuine concern, his typically cold voice softened. This was something Caroline had never received from him.
A sharp ache rose in her chest as she stood frozen at the door, listening to those gentle instructions.
Did Heidi truly worry about Logan? She had her doubts.
When the call ended, Caroline took a deep breath before pushing the door open. "Dinner's ready. Come down to eat."
Arthur looked up at her, said nothing, then stood to follow her downstairs.
At the dinner table, Layla chattered away about school adventures, with Logan occasionally chiming in. Both children's faces glowed with happiness.
Arthur ate in silence, his expression blank, as if the warmth around him had nothing to do with him. Caroline kept her head down, picking at her food in small bites.
Throughout the entire meal, the atmosphere was so awkward that Caroline felt like she was sitting on pins and needles—as if she were the only one who didn't belong.
After dinner, Caroline had just finished clearing the dishes and was about to mention returning to her apartment when Layla ran over and hugged her legs.
"Mommy, please don't leave tonight. Stay and sleep with me and Logan."
"I can't, sweetie. I have work tomorrow," Caroline tried to reason.
"But I want you to stay with me." Layla looked up, her eyes full of hope. "Mommy, just for one night, please?"
Looking into her daughter's big, pleading eyes, Caroline couldn't bring herself to refuse. She nodded reluctantly. "Alright, I'll stay tonight."
Layla cheered and pulled Logan off to watch cartoons in the living room.
---
Caroline went upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door. A familiar scent washed over her. Everything in the room was exactly as she'd left it—her books still on the nightstand, her pajamas still neatly folded in the closet.
Looking at it all, Caroline felt a jumble of emotions. Everything was still there, yet somehow it all seemed to have lost its meaning.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Arthur was showering. She hesitated, then turned and headed for the guest room.
The guest room was simply furnished. Caroline found a spare set of pajamas and went into the bathroom. When she emerged from her shower, she found an unread text message from Arthur: [You're sleeping in the guest room tonight?]
Caroline thought for a moment before replying: [Yes, I'm a bit tired. I'll make breakfast in the morning.]
Arthur frowned slightly at Caroline's message. He set down his phone and walked to the guest room door, hesitated, then decided against opening it.
He found it strange. The old Caroline had always sought ways to be near him, never backing away despite his polite distance.
But now she was actively maintaining space between them, even preferring to sleep in the guest room rather than share a room with him.
Was it because she had started working and developed her own social circle, so she no longer needed him? He thought perhaps it was simply that she was new to working and still adjusting, stretched too thin to manage everything.
At five-thirty in the morning, when the sky was barely brightening, Caroline was already awake. She got up quietly, finished her morning routine, and went straight to the kitchen.
Nina was already preparing breakfast and looked surprised to see Caroline. "Mrs. Windsor, why are you up so early?"
"I need to get to the office early. Let me handle breakfast—you take a break," Caroline said with a smile, taking the apron from Nina's hands and tying it around herself with practiced ease.
She opened the refrigerator, took out eggs, milk, and toast, and efficiently began frying eggs. By six-thirty, breakfast was ready.
She glanced at the wall clock—it was time to go. She picked up her bag from the sofa and said quietly to Nina, "Nina, I'm leaving. Make sure the children eat while it's still hot when they wake up."
Nina nodded. "Take care, Mrs. Windsor."
Caroline stepped out of the villa into the cool morning air, which helped clear her mind.
Arthur was awakened by the children's commotion. Rubbing his throbbing temples, he walked out of the bedroom to find Layla and Logan sitting at the dining table, unhappily poking at the fried eggs on their plates.
"What's wrong?" Arthur sat down across from them.
"Where's Mommy?" Layla looked up, her eyes red. "Did she leave again?"
Arthur picked up a piece of toast and glanced at the time. "She went to work," he said flatly.
"Work?" Logan frowned. "Why does Mommy have to work? Didn't she used to stay home with us all the time?"
"She has her own job now. She can't be with you twenty-four hours a day," Arthur replied without emotion. "You need to understand that her work has to come first now."
Layla's lower lip jutted out in a pout. "But before, Mommy would come right away whenever we called. She'd make whatever we wanted to eat right away. Now even for my BBQ Glazed Ribs, we have to wait days."
Logan nodded in agreement, angrily adding, "Exactly! Ms. White is sick and can't play with us, Mommy has to work, and we're dying of boredom! Why does Mommy have to work? Can't she just stay home with us? I think Mommy has no sense of responsibility at all!"
Arthur sighed. "If you want to know why, ask your mother." With that, he picked up his briefcase and stood to leave.
"Daddy!" Layla called after him. "Can't you make stay with us."
Arthur didn't look back. "Nina will take you to school," he said flatly, then walked straight out of the villa.
Watching Arthur's retreating figure, Layla and Logan exchanged glances, both seeing the dissatisfaction and hurt in each other's eyes.
"Logan, I think if Mommy didn't go to work, she'd stay with us all the time," Layla whispered.
Logan nodded. "Yeah. Let's call Grandma and have her talk to Mommy."
Soon, Tiffany received the children's call. Listening to their tearful complaints, Tiffany felt a surge of anger.
She had never approved of Caroline working outside the home. In her view, a woman's place was at home, taking care of her husband and children—that was a woman's proper role.
"Don't be upset. I'll take care of this," Tiffany reassured them. "I promise I'll make Caroline quit her job and stay home to look after you properly."
After hanging up, Tiffany's expression turned frighteningly dark.
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When Caroline arrived at the office, it wasn't yet eight o'clock. She had just reached the front desk when she saw a familiar figure step out of the elevator.
Clinton Reyes? What was he doing here?