CHAPTER 487: CHAPTER 487: HEART DEAD, FETAL MOVEMENT (2)_1

Julia Bluen first ladled a bowl of soup for Glades Horne and then for herself. Glades didn’t say much; he picked up the bowl of soup and drank it all in one go.

Julia then filled a bowl with rice for him. He picked it up and quickly shoveled it down, not even bothering to pick up any vegetables, finishing the entire bowl of plain rice.

This time, Julia didn’t serve him any more rice. Instead, she sat beside him, resting her chin in her hand, and watched him.

Noticing his wife had stopped moving, Glades suddenly came back to his senses and looked at her, confusion in his eyes.

"I don’t like this side of you. Once you’ve made a decision, see it through; there’s no need to keep agonizing over it. Hesitation and soft-heartedness aren’t in your nature," Julia said softly, her beautiful almond eyes seeing right through Glades’s thoughts.

They were in their fourth month of marriage, and by now, they understood each other completely.

Others couldn’t see through his thoughts, but she could.

Glades suddenly chuckled lowly, then served himself another bowl of rice and picked some vegetables. He ate while saying, "I’m just regretting that I acted too late. Eat up. It’s getting cold, and the food will cool down quickly. Or..." His expression changed, becoming teasing, his dark eyes filled with laughter and indulgence as he looked at Julia and suggested, "how about I feed you?"

Julia laughed, gave him a playful, scolding look, and pinched the back of his hand, her pretty face flushing as she replied, "You’re treating me like a child again."

Glades chuckled softly.

His mood returned to normal.

That dinner turned out to be the most he had ever eaten in his life.

「Upstairs」

Mila Anderson sat listlessly in her daughter Adele Horne’s room.

"Mom, you seem upset. Do you want to go out for a walk?" Adele looked at her mother, who was sitting listlessly. In front of Pheobe Rogers, her mother never showed weakness, but in front of her and her brother, all her mother’s pain was laid bare.

Mila turned to look out the window. It was pitch black outside. It must be almost eight o’clock, she thought. Going out for a night stroll would be suitable, but I don’t feel like it and I’m in no mood to go out right now.

"Adele..." Mila looked at her daughter, hesitating.

Pheobe Rogers’s insulting words about Adele weighed heavily on her, especially the claim that Adele would struggle to marry; that remark truly pierced her heart. What mother could bear to see her own daughter live a lonely, unmarried life? She wanted to find a good man for Adele, to give Adele a home of her own, to ensure that when Adele’s child was born, the ’father’ section on any official documents wouldn’t have to read ’father unknown.’ She believed there were still good men in the world who would accept both Adele and the child in her womb. It was impossible to carve out thirty percent of Valence Group’s shares as Adele’s dowry, but Adele’s dowry would undoubtedly be substantial. If a good man was willing to marry Adele, she would contribute all her private savings to Adele’s dowry; she wouldn’t let her future son-in-law be at a disadvantage.

"Mom, what do you want to say?"

"Adele, why don’t you go on some blind dates? I know many people; I can ask some of them to find a few good men for you to meet. What do you think?" Mila Anderson blurted out what she had been wanting to say.

Adele Horne was stunned. She hadn’t expected her mother’s hesitant words to be about her.

After the initial shock, her expression turned melancholic. She knew her mother still found it hard to accept her out-of-wedlock pregnancy. How could she herself accept it? Yet, she had no choice.

Her hand involuntarily slid to her abdomen again. It had been over two months now; this child had been living inside me for more than two months, and I can feel the child is content.

"Mom, I don’t want to get married, at least not right now."

"But..."

"Mom, please don’t say any more. Let’s talk about you and Dad. After all these years, Dad has shattered your hopes countless times. Are you going to continue like this?" Speaking of her father, Adele Horne’s feelings were complicated. She respected him, but like Glades Horne, she also harbored resentment towards him.

Mila Anderson was silent, then finally sighed deeply. "I want to let go too, but every time I’m about to, your dad is suddenly so good to me again, making me unable to resist craving his care, his gestures of affection." This relentless cycle of love and hurt had exhausted her. She, too, wanted to let go, to stop loving her husband, but truly moving on would take a very long time.

"Dad is too much! He just wants to have his cake and eat it too," Adele Horne complained angrily.

"Alas, after all these decades, I thought he would change for good, but things are still the same. I don’t have much energy to fight with Pheobe Rogers anymore. I just hope your sister-in-law gives birth to a healthy, chubby grandson to give me something to look forward to and ease my boredom. Spending my days playing cards, shopping, and traveling is actually very dull. It’s not fulfilling at all; it feels like I’m just wasting my life away," Mila Anderson said with a sigh, her face gray and heavy, as if she had aged considerably in an instant.

So many decades had passed; if she could have let go, she would have done so long ago.

Mother and daughter chatted for a while longer before Mila Anderson left Adele Horne’s room and returned to her own. Pushing the door open, she saw Gian Horne in a robe, lying on her bed. They had slept in separate rooms for years. What is he doing here?

With a stern face, Mila Anderson said coldly, "Did you walk into the wrong room and get into the wrong bed?"

"Mila, can we talk?" Gian Horne called out gently to his wife. But his tenderness only felt particularly jarring to Mila.

Sitting down on the sofa in the room, Mila Anderson composed herself gracefully and spoke coldly, "What do you want to talk about? If it’s about Pheobe Rogers, I’d rather you didn’t say a word."

Gian Horne looked chagrined; indeed, what he wanted to discuss was Pheobe Rogers.

Pheobe Rogers had called him earlier, cursing him over the phone for being heartless and unhelpful. She had been sobbing, threatening that she wouldn’t let the Horne Family have any peace, and taunting that if Glades Horne had the guts, he should kill her and see if her son would avenge her. Those words made Gian Horne feel both ashamed and vexed. Pheobe Rogers was becoming increasingly outrageous, he thought, but after decades of shared history, he truly couldn’t bring himself to ignore her completely.

"Mila, I’m sorry, it’s my fault. But... James is nearly twenty-nine now, and he has his own capabilities. If Glades doesn’t let Pheobe Rogers enter the Horne Family estate anymore, will James resent Glades? I’m worried the brothers will turn against each other. Can you talk to Glades and ask him to revoke that order? You know, in this family, he’s the emperor. If he doesn’t withdraw his command, no one can stop it," Gian Horne pressed on, still shamelessly bringing up matters related to Pheobe Rogers.