CHAPTER 14: CHAPTER 14: FOR MY CHILD, I’M WILLING TO BE HUMBLE ONCE

Timothy looked at me displeased and said, "Doris is so young, what does she understand? Is what she says really worth your attention?"

Not only did he not scold his precious daughter, but he also let Doris sit back on his lap and personally fed her.

Serena smiled slightly, appearing gentle as she said, "Miss Ellison, Doris has been watching too many period dramas lately. Don’t mind her. By the way, the bird’s nest Timothy bought at the auction the other day was very good. I saved some for you. Nanny Lowell will bring it over to you later."

I returned the smile and said, "No need, I’m not used to second-hand stuff. Unlike you, who isn’t picky."

With that, I carried my pots and pans back to my room.

Doing things yourself ensures abundance.

Soon, I cooked a bowl of tomato noodles with egg and ham, and it tasted great.

After eating, I started pondering what Hannah Quincy had told me that day.

How to investigate Timothy Xavier’s assets?

How to prove that Doris is the biological child of Serena and Timothy Xavier?

I cleared my mind and realized that the second matter was actually easier than the first.

Because I now live in this villa, there’s always a chance to get their hair samples for DNA comparison.

As for how to find out about Timothy Xavier’s assets, I searched many divorce cases online, but none seemed applicable to me and Timothy.

I understood that divorcing Timothy Xavier wasn’t something that could be accomplished in a day or two, and I couldn’t rush it.

So, I took a shower and prepared to sleep, thinking I would tackle it tomorrow.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, dogs barking suddenly came from the villa’s courtyard.

I’ve always been a light sleeper, and even when Timothy Xavier went to the bathroom at night, I’d be woken by his footsteps.

The barking continued, causing me a headache.

I thought it was stray dogs nearby.

Until I went to the window and opened the curtains, only to see Timothy Xavier and Serena taking Doris for a walk with a dog in the courtyard.

A big white Labrador, almost as big as Doris.

I hadn’t expected that there would be a dog in the villa.

Because I was bitten by a dog when I was a child, ever since then, I’ve avoided dogs.

Timothy Xavier knows this.

When we went out in the past, if we encountered a dog or heard barking, he would cover my ears and hold me close.

But now, Timothy Xavier no longer cares about how I feel.

All he cares about is making Serena and Doris happy.

I silently drew the curtains and put headphones in, trying to block out the irritating noise.

Actually, they didn’t walk the dog for long, and the barking eventually stopped.

But for some reason, I just couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning until dawn, unable to get any rest.

I thought it was just a one-time bout of insomnia.

But afterward, I couldn’t sleep night after night for several days.

Whenever I closed my eyes, it was as if I was back on the day I gave birth to my stillborn, crying to see my child, only to be told by Timothy Xavier that he, fearing I’d be hurt, had taken the child to the funeral home for cremation.

For three whole years, I watched over that small urn.

But now, even the urn of my daughter’s ashes is no longer complete.

The scene of the urn being shattered flashes through my mind over and over.

During the day, due to the insomnia at night, I feel exhausted and don’t want to do anything, feeling depressed and unhappy.

I then realized it seemed like I was sick.

To confirm my suspicions, I visited the hospital and consulted a mental health clinic.

The psychologist, after hearing my story, told me it was called post-traumatic stress disorder and required timely psychological counseling.

Otherwise, it might develop into severe depression in the future.

But the psychologist’s treatment method turned out to be "desensitization."

He wanted me to speak about the things I didn’t want to remember, the people I didn’t want to mention, and the beautiful past in sharp contrast to now.

He said only by doing this could I cut out the rotten flesh myself, allowing the wound to heal with fresh meat.

Although this seemed too cruel for me, I decided to actively cooperate with the treatment.

I didn’t want to become a suffering lunatic because of this failed marriage in my future.

Of course, psychological guidance is gradual, and it doesn’t require me to talk about all my memories with Timothy Xavier all at once.

After the first treatment session, the doctor also prescribed some anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication for me to take home.

He also suggested that Timothy Xavier and I find a burial place for the child and properly inter the ashes in the ground.

This is not only a sign of respect for the child but also an account for myself.

Although the marriage failed, Timothy Xavier will always be the child’s father, and that cannot be changed.

And my only selfish wish is for my child to experience, even just once, the kind of fatherly love Timothy shows Doris.

Even if it’s just once.

After picking up the medication from the hospital, I returned home.

I hadn’t expected that Timothy Xavier would be home in broad daylight.

In the past, Timothy Xavier would stay at the house’s shrine only when engaging in Buddhist practices; the rest of the time he was almost always at the company. I barely exchanged a few words with him during breakfast.

But ever since Serena and her daughter moved in, he has spent much more time at home.

So, he wasn’t so busy that he couldn’t return home at all!

Upon seeing me enter, the man sitting on the sofa reading a magazine glanced at me.

I instinctively hid the pharmacy bag with the hospital’s logo behind me, not wanting him to know that I had psychological issues.

However, I overestimated my importance to him. He saw the medication in my hand but didn’t care why I had it or what kind of medicine it was.

I didn’t actually need to hide it.

Remembering the doctor’s suggestion, I stood in front of him, hesitating on how to broach the subject of burying the child together.

"Do you have something to say to me?"

He finally spoke first, putting the magazine aside, his deep eyes seemingly earnest as he looked at me.

At that moment, Nanny Lowell brought up a bowl of bird’s nest, smiling and saying, "Madam, this is supreme quality blood bird’s nest. Sir asked me to prepare it for you. It’s very good for your anemia!"

Although I knew Nanny Lowell had good intentions, trying to bring Timothy and me together, I disliked the feeling that my consumption depended on Timothy’s goodwill.

Timothy then added, "Drink it."

As if offering me a way out.

I refused, saying, "No, thank you. I don’t like consuming leftovers."

After all, it wasn’t bought for me in the first place.

Serena had already been drinking it for so many days, so was she tired of it or just couldn’t finish it before thinking of me?

Seeing that I refused his offer, Timothy simply said, "Suit yourself."

With that, he got up and headed upstairs.

I hurriedly called out to him, gathering my courage to express my thoughts: "Timothy, do you have time tomorrow? I want you to come with me to choose a burial place for the child and give her a proper resting place."

Just as I finished speaking, Serena came down from upstairs and said, "Brother Timothy, when are we leaving? Doris said she wants to go abroad and have a good time before kindergarten starts! She’s been looking forward to it for so long!"

Timothy paused and looked back at me.

I gazed at him too, nervously awaiting his answer.

I so hoped he would choose me this time.

I thought my child in heaven would want to see her father cherish her as though she were a treasure.

"Can we do this? Just tomorrow morning, it won’t take much of your time."

I knew how humble I was at that moment; I had lost my former pride, and every word carried an earnest plea.

For the sake of the child, I’m willing to humble myself just this once.