Chapter 33
I didn’t voice this question. Everyone had their own way of thinking, so I couldn’t be sure what Jared meant. All I knew was that this child belonged to me alone.
Ashton never had any feelings for me to begin with. If Grandpa were still alive, perhaps I could have stayed by Ashton’s side for a few more years. But with him gone, I had no confidence in holding onto Ashton any longer. Risking my child for that wasn’t a wise choice.
A silence stretched between us before I spoke again. “Since I’m pregnant now, I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you for the time being. As for everything else, I have my own plans. Thank you, Dr. Crest.”
Jared seemed unconvinced, a crease forming between his brows. He probably thought I didn’t understand his meaning, but he didn’t push the matter further.
He sighed. “I have something to do later. Remember to take your medicine. I’ll be going now.”
After seeing him off, I didn’t touch the bowl of ginger carrot soup Ashton had made for me. My stomach felt slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because I was still in the early stages of pregnancy—I didn’t have morning sickness yet, but my appetite was nonexistent.
I had just returned to the bedroom and lay down on the bed when my phone rang. It was an unknown number, but I answered anyway.
Half a beat passed before the person on the other end spoke. “It’s me, Rebecca.”
I blinked in surprise, then frowned. “Do you need something from me, Ms. Larson?”
“Let’s talk. I’ve sent you the address.”
Before I had the chance to refuse, the line went dead.
I had no idea why Rebecca was looking for me now, but I was certain it had something to do with Ashton.
But what made her think I would rush over to meet her just because she told me to? Looking at the address she sent, I took a screenshot and forwarded it to Ashton with a single sentence beneath it: Ms. Larson asked me to meet her, but I was afraid that I might get triggered and end up punching her, so I declined.
Ashton called me shortly after the message was delivered.
I answered the call and leaned on the balcony railing, enjoying the scenery as I said breezily, “Yes, Mr. Fuller?”
I could almost picture the frown on his face. “Where are you?” he asked in an unhappy tone.
“Home.”
“Mm.” There was a brief pause. “Rest well at home.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
It seemed he had read my message. After ending the call, I found myself too restless to sleep and had nothing to do, so I wandered into his study out of boredom.
Since I had been constantly occupied with work before, I rarely had time to browse the books here. Now that I had some time off, I deserved to indulge in a little idleness.
Ashton’s study was spacious, filled with all kinds of books. I flipped through some illustrated ones to pass the time, but it didn’t take long for my back to start aching.
I set the book aside and strolled around the study, my gaze landing on a small, old-looking cabinet tucked into the corner.
Curious, I opened it and found some photographs. They were quite worn with age, but I could tell they were all pictures of Ashton when he was young.
I had never met Ashton’s parents, so an old, faded photo of a young couple holding a baby with bright smiles caught my eye.
The man’s eyes bore a striking resemblance to Ashton’s and Grandpa George’s, so I deduced he must be Ashton’s father. That meant the woman, who looked gentle and elegant, was probably Ashton’s mother.
Flipping through the album, I noticed something odd. The next few photos showed Ashton’s parents carrying a baby girl. Confused, I turned back to the earlier pages and realized that, indeed, several pictures featured a little girl, about two or three years old, standing beside Ashton’s parents.
Grandpa had once told me that Ashton was his parents’ only child. There had never been mention of a daughter. As for Uncle Charlie and his wife, I had heard that they never wanted children, so this little girl couldn’t be theirs either.
Who was she?
With no other explanation, I assumed she must have been a neighbor’s child or someone close to the family.
Without dwelling on it, I continued flipping through the album.
The later pictures documented Ashton’s school years. It was touching to see how sentimental Grandpa was, preserving every milestone in his grandson’s life.
At the end of the album was a group photo that seemed to be more recent. In it were Rebecca, Jared, and Joe.
There was also a boy with a bright, enthusiastic expression. Though he was just as good-looking as the others, his complexion was paler, as if he had a health condition. Since I didn’t recognize him, I didn’t try to figure out who he was.
The lone girl among the four boys was Rebecca. At that time, she still had an innocent and shy air about her.
It was evident at a glance that she was the cherished little princess among them. How lucky.
After going through all the photos, I felt a strange tightness in my chest.
Ashton and Rebecca had a long history, whereas I had only known him for barely two years.
If not for Grandma’s illness and her desperation that led her to bring me to meet Grandpa George, I would never have had the chance to marry Ashton.
I had only managed to marry him because of Grandma and Grandpa George’s influence. It was no wonder he never harbored any feelings for me.
Come to think of it, I had never once stopped to consider how Grandma and Grandpa George knew each other in the first place. Logically speaking, the Fullers were wealthy and powerful, while Grandma was a simple, rural woman from the countryside.
Just how had they met?