Chapter 164 We'll Have Our Child Right Here
Caroline nodded eagerly, nestling into his embrace with a contented sigh.
"This place is like heaven! Can we really stay here? Until the baby comes?"
"Of course we can."
Alexander bent down to kiss her earlobe.
"Stay as long as you want."
Caroline's smile was radiant, but quickly, as if remembering something, her brows drew together slightly.
She turned around, tilting her face up to look at him.
"But... if I'm here for the pregnancy, how will my mom and sister come when I give birth? It's such a long way, and my sister is still in that closed research facility in Ashbourne..."
Alexander's body tensed almost imperceptibly, then his expression smoothed back into gentle warmth. He tapped her nose in mock reproach.
"Silly girl, why worry about that now? When you're close to delivery, if they're available, I'll send a private jet to bring them here. Right now, your only job is to rest, take care of yourself, and bring our baby into the world healthy. Everything else—leave it to me."
Caroline was successfully soothed.
"You're right! I need to focus on the baby, make sure he's healthy and beautiful!"
She rubbed her still-flat stomach, then wrinkled her nose.
"Though... I am getting kind of hungry..."
"Then let's eat."
Alexander took her hand, leading her back to the room.
"Have some soup first. Kenna's already preparing lunch—all your favorites."
"Okay!"
Caroline obediently picked up the bowl, taking a careful sip.
"This is delicious!"
Her eyes lit up as she took another large mouthful, closing her eyes in satisfaction.
"Kenna's cooking just keeps getting better!"
Alexander watched her contentment, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
He cleared his throat, voice dropping low. "Actually... I made the soup."
"What?"
Caroline's head snapped up in surprise.
"You—you made this? Alex, you can cook?"
In her understanding, Alexander had always been above such mundane tasks—first the privileged young master who never touched a kitchen, then the calculating, ruthless head of the Hamilton family, a man seemingly divorced from anything as ordinary as cooking.
Alexander looked uncomfortable under her gaze, his ears reddening slightly.
"Yeah, learned from Kenna years ago. Thought... maybe someday I'd have a chance to cook for you."
He paused, adding somewhat sheepishly.
"First time making it, though. Probably not that good."
"No! It's perfect!"
Caroline shook her head vigorously, eyes shining as she looked at him.
"This is the best soup I've ever had! Really!"
She lowered her head again, taking small, savoring sips, as if drinking something precious and rare.
Alexander watched her find such joy in a simple bowl of soup, his heart aching with a bittersweet tenderness.
He couldn't help reaching out, gently lifting her chin. In her surprised gaze, he lowered his head and kissed her softly.
Alexander's kiss deepened gradually, his breathing growing ragged.
Caroline could feel the change in his body, the desire he was struggling to contain. Her cheeks flushed deeper, her heartbeat quickening. But just as things threatened to spiral beyond control, she gently pushed him back.
"We can't, Alex... the baby..."
Alexander froze instantly, the storm in his eyes slowly subsiding.
He took several deep breaths, pressing his forehead against hers.
"I know... I wasn't trying to—Edith, I just wanted to kiss you."
Alexander held her tightly for a long moment before releasing her, picking up the soup bowl again with the spoon.
"Come on, drink some more before it gets cold."
Caroline leaned against him obediently, drinking from his hand in small sips.
Gradually, her eyelids grew heavy.
"Tired?"
Alexander set down the empty bowl, carefully helping her lie down and tucking the blanket around her.
"Get some sleep then. Don't think about anything. I'm right here."
"Alex..."
But Caroline caught his wrist, her voice soft and thick with drowsiness, almost like a child's.
"Will you sing me a song? When I was little... when I couldn't sleep, my mom would sing to me..."
Sing? Alexander froze.
In his entire life, he had barely hummed a tune, let alone sung.
In a world of blades and betrayal, tenderness and innocence were the most useless luxuries.
"I..."
He hesitated, but couldn't bring himself to refuse.
He sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, cleared his throat, and tried to recall fragments of a distant childhood, humming a badly off-key lullaby.
Caroline, half-asleep, couldn't help laughing at his disastrous attempt, her eyes crinkling into crescents.
"Alex, your singing... is really terrible..."
Alexander's ears burned with embarrassment as he stopped. "I told you I couldn't—"
"But... I love it."
Caroline tightened her grip on his hand, pressing his palm against her cheek and nuzzling it contentedly, her voice fading.
"This side of you... is wonderful. You're going to be such a good father..."
Her breathing evened out, falling into deep sleep.
Alexander sat motionless, watching her peaceful face, his heart feeling like it had been submerged in warm honey.
Sweet, but with an underlying bitterness.
A good father?
Did he deserve that?
He couldn't even claim to be a good husband. In fact... he was a murderer.
He gently withdrew his hand from her grasp, leaning down to stroke her cheek.
"Can you stay like this forever?"
His whisper was barely audible.
"Just like this, carefree, believing you're Edith. Never remembering any of it."
He paused, closing his eyes, forcing back the surge of anguish before continuing in a voice even quieter.
"Especially... never remembering how I tortured you, hurt you, drove you to the edge. Never remembering all that blood-drenched agony I inflicted with my own hands."
He couldn't bear to imagine the day this soul—trapped in Edith's shell—might awaken and remember everything. The hatred and terror in her eyes would destroy him.
The mere thought made it hard to breathe.
Those eyes he had once used as his only outlet for suppressed hatred had become the thing Alexander feared most.
He jerked upright, grabbed the empty bowl, and strode quickly from the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
In the hallway outside, Kenna waited quietly.
"Sir." She greeted him in a low voice.
Alexander handed her the empty bowl, his instructions quiet but firm. "Starting today, make Caroline a calming soup every day. The doctor's minimum dosage—grind it into the finest powder possible, mix it into the soup, and make sure she drinks it all. She can never find out. Understood?"
Kenna's heart clenched, her hands trembling slightly as she held the bowl.
"Yes... sir."