Chapter 175 Sneaking into the Room at Midnight...
Gabriel was true to his word.
After heading upstairs to wash up, he dutifully went straight to the guest room and didn't come out again.
Arabella remained on guard downstairs, dawdling for a long time until deep into the night. Only when drowsiness finally overcame her and she heard Isabella crying from upstairs did she have a reason to go up to the bedroom.
Pushing open the master bedroom door, she saw little Isabella lying alone on the expansive king-size bed.
Beside her daughter was a stuffed teddy bear wearing one of Arabella's nightgowns—seeing this scene, Arabella's heart suddenly clenched, as if stung by a bee.
Gabriel's words echoed in her mind once again.
He'd said their daughter had been crying frequently at night lately, only able to settle down when wrapped in something that carried her scent.
She must be feeling insecure, needing to smell her mother's scent to fall asleep.
Her heart aching with tenderness, Arabella quickly climbed onto the bed and scooped up her daughter, whose tiny arms and legs were flailing.
"Shh, shh... baby don't cry, Mommy's here, Mommy's back to stay with you. Did you miss Mommy?"
She held her daughter close, cooing gently and patiently while unbuttoning her shirt.
Isabella had woken from a nightmare, her eyes still not quite open, but that didn't stop her natural nursing instincts.
Catching her mother's familiar scent, she quickly stopped crying, and once she latched on to the milk she'd been craving, she immediately calmed down, gulping contentedly.
Arabella gazed down tenderly at her daughter, gently tracing the baby's soft cheek with her finger, filled with love and longing.
After a while, as her emotions settled, she looked around the room.
This master suite had been her home for over two years. Even though she'd moved out some time ago, traces of her life here remained untouched.
The warm-toned curtains she loved, her collection of skincare products scattered across the vanity, the hand cream on the nightstand, the hair towel hanging on the floor rack.
She had left, yet it seemed as if she'd never left at all.
Things remained the same while people had changed—it was quite moving.
She couldn't understand why Gabriel hadn't had the staff clean up and rearrange everything. This wasn't like his usual preference for pristine order.
What she didn't know was that during all the days since her departure, Gabriel had maintained her two-year-old living habits, using all the items she was accustomed to using.
As if this could create an illusion for himself that she had never left.
Even his nighttime routine of sleeping with Isabella wasn't entirely because the baby cried—it was because having his daughter nearby, with that heart-warming baby scent, created the fantasy that Arabella was still beside him.
After nursing the little one, Arabella was too drowsy to keep her eyes open. Without further thought, she slipped under the covers to sleep peacefully alongside her daughter.
At two in the morning, the entire mansion fell completely silent.
The guest room door quietly opened, and Gabriel's tall, lean figure slowly emerged.
Opening the master bedroom door, he wasn't surprised to see two forms nestled in the large bed—the woman he'd been yearning for day and night was finally back, sleeping alongside their little princess.
The hollow emptiness in his heart seemed to fill slightly—not completely, but no longer swaying aimlessly in the wind.
The night was quiet, his footsteps even quieter, careful not to disturb the sleeping woman.
Moving soundlessly to the bedside, he stood like a specter in the darkness, gazing at the figures on the bed. After a long moment, he slowly, carefully sat on the edge of the bed.
This sneaky behavior made Gabriel feel somewhat ashamed, yet deeply satisfied.
He didn't dare share the bed openly with her, didn't dare be too intimate, but having her in the house yet sleeping in separate rooms was unbearably torturous.
He could only steal these moments while she slept, slipping in undetected...
Once settled, he carefully swiveled his body and lifted his legs onto the bed.
When his long frame finally lay parallel to hers, his tense muscles gradually relaxed, and he slowly released a breath.
He didn't dare hold her, afraid of waking her.
But lying so close, his willpower grew increasingly fragile. In the dim light filtering through the curtains, he could barely make out the beautiful contours of her face and that intoxicating presence she radiated even in sleep.
Gabriel swallowed hard and, as if possessed, lifted his head to study her profile. Then, holding his breath, he inched closer bit by bit until his lips touched her soft cheek.
Remembering her fractured nose bridge that couldn't be touched, he didn't dare be too bold or kiss her lips, afraid of accidentally bumping her nose—not only would it hurt her, but it would wake her up.
His lips lingered on her cheek for a long while before reluctantly pulling away. He propped his head on his arm to get a better view and continued gazing at her.
He didn't dare fall asleep here.
After all, she could wake at any moment, and if she discovered him sneaking into her room in the middle of the night like some perverted voyeur, sharing her bed, who knew what kind of scorn and mockery she'd heap on him.
So after staring foolishly for about ten minutes, leaning down to breathe in her scent, he quietly got up and left.
Only after the bedroom door opened and closed again, plunging the room back into darkness and silence, did the woman who had been "sleeping" quietly open her eyes.
Taking several sharp breaths, Arabella's heart was pounding frantically.
She had actually awakened the moment the mattress dipped slightly and she sensed movement beside her.
No mother sleeping with her baby ever slept completely soundly—it was natural to wake at the slightest disturbance.
When he lay down beside her, it would have been impossible not to feel tense and flustered.
Fortunately, reason prevailed, and with a moment's analysis, she realized he probably wouldn't do anything inappropriate.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so careful and sneaky—he would have been boldly forceful instead.
When he leaned in to kiss her, Arabella's heart nearly leaped from her throat.
She had no idea when she'd developed such masterful acting skills.
To maintain the pretense of sleep so convincingly under those circumstances, completely undetected.
Continuing to breathe deeply to calm her racing, confused heart, Arabella replayed the scene in her mind, feeling even more bewildered.
Gabriel's behavior really did give the impression of someone deeply, humbly in love.
But he was one of this city's most prominent young elites—handsome, distinguished, from an illustrious family, always commanding and arrogant. Would he really love someone in such a humble, careful way?
Arabella puzzled over this, unable to convince herself.
It had to be male biological instincts at work—he wanted intimacy with her again.
Fortunately, his conscience was still intact. Knowing she was pregnant again, he could only painfully suppress his urges, sneaking over to pathetically kiss her and nuzzle her like a dog, using this to satisfy his fantasies.
Thinking this way, Arabella suddenly wondered if he had psychological problems.
Yes, he definitely had psychological issues!
But he was too proud to see a therapist, so he could only satisfy his perverse urges through this kind of deviant behavior!
Actually, Arabella hadn't guessed wrong.
After leaving the master bedroom, Gabriel returned to the guest room unable to sleep.
Having abstained for days, his body was already in a state of desperate thirst. The little actions he'd just performed hadn't relieved his longing but had instead intensified his long-suppressed desires.
Physical instinct was like a spring—the more you restrained it, the more violent the rebound.
He forced himself to close his eyes and recite calming mantras, but the more he chanted, the more his entire body burned with restless need, as if something was gnawing at him from within—finally, he sat up abruptly, threw off the covers, and stormed into the bathroom in frustration...
After finding release, the man sat slumped on the toilet seat, head hanging low.
Despite the cold weather, his clean, sharp temples were beaded with sweat, dampening his usually pristine hair.
Her image still haunted his mind like a ghost, refusing to leave him in peace. Thinking of the unexpected child in her womb, the tangled mess in his heart twisted into an unsolvable chaos.
Frustrated, so damn frustrated!