Chapter 243 The Child is Tristan's
In the evening, Tristan walked into the master bedroom and saw Harriet curled up on the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window, drinking.
Tristan's heart ached. He walked over and took the wine bottle and glass from her hands."Harriet, stop torturing yourself."
"Who said I'm torturing myself?" Harriet smiled. "I just want to relax a bit. I won't let myself get drunk."
Tristan put the things on the coffee table and sat down beside her. "I heard you have no appetite and barely touched your dinner, right?"
"I'm used to Rhea's cooking." Tears welled up in Harriet's eyes. "Turns out habits really are a scary thing. If only Rhea were still here."
Tristan reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll get a new batch of chefs, or find some who are good at home cooking. They can make food that tastes like Rhea's. I'm sure we can find flavors you'll like."
"Rhea is dead, and my godmother is dead too. The people who loved me, the people I loved, have all left me." Tears rolled down Harriet's cheeks as she murmured, "The road ahead is so long, I don't know how to keep going."
"You still have me." Tristan cupped her face with his hands, his calloused fingertips wiping away her tears. "Harriet, we're husband and wife. No matter how hard or long the road ahead is, I'll walk it with you."
Harriet's tears flowed even harder.
Tristan's heart felt like it was being cut by knives. He kissed her lips directly.
Harriet didn't respond, but he kept kissing her relentlessly, removing her slip nightgown as he kissed her.
Their clothes were thrown on the floor piece by piece. Tristan carried Harriet to the bed and leaned down to kiss her lips.
Harriet kept her eyes closed the whole time, not making a sound.
After it was over, Tristan suppressed the stabbing pain in his chest and said in a hoarse voice, "Let me carry you to take a bath, okay?"
"No need." Harriet kept her eyes closed. "You go wash first. I want to rest for a bit."
Tristan turned her face toward him. "Harriet, open your eyes and look at me."
Harriet slowly opened her eyes.
The coldness and calm in her eyes instantly pierced Tristan's heart.
His voice trembled. "Harriet, you hate me, don't you? So just now, you were resisting making love with me, weren't you?"
Harriet's lips twitched. "I don't want to be like this. I really want to be the same as before, but Tristan, I can't control myself."
"Every time I see you, I think of the scene of you shooting and killing my godmother."
The person she loved most had killed the person closest to her.
She didn't know why fate would play such a joke on her, or how to accept and forget it.
She was in so much pain.
Tears streamed down Harriet's face. "Tristan, I'm so confused. I don't know how to face you."
"Back then, to prevent your mother from dying at the hands of the Romanov family because of me, I desperately tried to find ways to bring her back alive, because I knew that if she died because of me, you would have a thorn in your heart that could never be removed."
"But now, my godmother didn't die because of you—she was killed by your own hand. What's stuck in my heart isn't just a thorn anymore, it's a knife!"
Harriet broke down crying. If only tears could heal the pain. "Tristan, do you know why I've been desperately trying to avoid you these past few days? It's because every time I see you, that knife digs deeper. I'm in so much pain!"
"Harriet, don't do this!" Tristan frantically wiped away her tears. "I didn't mean to. If I had known about your relationship, I definitely wouldn't have pulled the trigger!"
He pleaded, "Forgive me this once, just this once, okay? I'm begging you, Harriet!"
Harriet didn't speak, only cried harder.
She closed her eyes again and turned her head away. "I'm begging you, let me be alone for a while, okay?"
"Okay, I'll go out right now. Don't cry."
Tristan wanted to say more, but in the end couldn't bring himself to speak.
He didn't want to force her.
And he couldn't force her.
From that day on, the two of them fell into a tense, strained state.
Harriet stayed indoors, and Tristan, to avoid making her think of Ondine's death by seeing him, deliberately left early and came home late.
When Harriet woke up in the morning, Tristan was already gone from the bed, and when she fell asleep, he hadn't come home yet.
This went on for half a month until Harriet finally went out.
Ian, as Ondine's fellow apprentice, wanted to hold a funeral for her.
Since there was no body, Ian took two sets of her clothes from when she was alive to bury.
Harriet accompanied Ian to the cemetery.
Ian wiped his tears. "Dr. Smith was an unfortunate person. She did good deeds for decades, but still ended up like this. Harriet, please tell Mr. Lancaster that Dr. Smith absolutely could not have killed anyone. Can you ask him to investigate Mrs. Gemma Lancaster's cause of death properly and clear Dr. Smith's name?"
Harriet held back her tears. "Mr. Jones, I'll tell him."
"What's been going on with you lately?" Ian asked with concern. "You haven't come to work. Is everything okay with your health?"
"I'm fine, just tired. I want to rest for a while."
"That's good. The clinic can manage. Don't worry, just rest well."
"Thank you."
"Harriet, like Dr. Smith, I have no children in this life, only you as my student. Remember, while I'm alive, I'll come visit Dr. Smith. But after I die, you must come see her often for me. I don't want her to go through this life without even one person who cares about her."
Harriet nodded firmly. "Mr. Jones, I'll remember. I'll do it."
"That's good."
After leaving the cemetery, Harriet drove Ian back to the clinic, then went to the hospital.
Haven hadn't been feeling well lately and had been admitted to the hospital.
Harriet had only learned this news this morning and came specially to check on her.
Fortunately, Haven was fine, just hadn't been sleeping well at night.
Harriet prescribed some calming medicine for Iris and chatted with Haven for a while before leaving.
Just as she walked out the hospital entrance, she ran into Quinlan.
Harriet ignored her and walked straight past.
"Harriet." Quinlan called out to her. "Since we've run into each other, let me buy you a coffee."
Harriet refused directly. "Not in the mood."
"Come on." Quinlan caught up and grabbed her arm. "I have something to tell you."
Harriet frowned slightly, coldness spreading across her face. She warned coldly, "Let go, or don't blame me for not being nice."
"You want to hit me?" Quinlan laughed lightly. "You really can't hit me, because I'm pregnant."
Harriet said coldly, "It's not my child, so you don't need to tell me."
"Aren't you curious whose child it is?"
"I'm not interested in knowing."
"What if I told you this child is Tristan's?"
"Impossible." Harriet said without hesitation. "Tristan would never have sex with you."
"I can see you trust Tristan quite a bit." Quinlan released Harriet's arm and touched her flat belly. "But who told you that you have to have sex to get pregnant?"
Harriet frowned and turned to look at her. "What do you mean?"
Quinlan smiled and leaned close to Harriet's ear, whispering something.
Harriet's eyes widened. In an instant, her face turned pale, inch by inch.