CHAPTER 62: CHAPTER 62: RESTING ON HIS LAP

Victoria Monroe fastened the button for Rhys Hawthorne and even generously picked out an entire suit for him.

She noticed his gaze fall on a belt.

He acted like a child, not saying anything, just staring intently to see if she would buy it.

Victoria felt a bit awkward, "Young master, I can’t buy you a belt."

The nickname carried a teasing tone from her lips.

He didn’t find it annoying; instead, he was amused, "Why not?"

"When a woman gives a man a belt, it usually means she wants to tie him down. Hasn’t any woman given you one before?"

"No."

She found it strange. Four years ago, he could be considered too young.

This year, he was twenty-four, the age when passion ignites, yet he seemed like a sage indifferent to worldly desires.

Seeing him withdraw his gaze, Victoria quickly paid for the purchases.

She’d bought many clothes for Julian Fordham, mostly by coordinating online with designers who then measured him at home.

After all, he was so busy that he didn’t even have time to go shopping with her.

Even though she was now the esteemed Mrs. Fordham, she rarely lingered over selections in physical stores.

What woman in the world doesn’t love shopping?

Rhys glanced at his watch, "Director York just said he was delayed, and lunch is pushed back by an hour. How about we browse around?"

"Wouldn’t it be too late? Director York hates tardiness the most."

"It won’t be."

Victoria headed to the women’s clothing section while Rhys waited in the leisure area, casually sending a message.

Meanwhile, Carter York, about to arrive at the restaurant, was frustrated and muttered, "Hormones before homies."

Rhys, legs crossed and holding a magazine, looked like an elegant gentleman.

He occasionally glanced up at Victoria, who was chatting with a sales assistant. Her eyes paused momentarily on a backless dress before moving on.

She had a great figure and could easily pull off any style.

She bought a few dresses, only approaching Rhys after checking out.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Not at all, it was a rest for me."

He rose to hand her a shopping bag, "A little gift in return."

Victoria opened it to find the backless dress she had wanted but hadn’t purchased.

Julian Fordham didn’t like her dressing too revealingly, bringing too much attention from other men.

Over time, she became accustomed, so she only looked but did not buy.

Rhys seemed to guess her thoughts and calmly remarked, "I think this dress would look beautiful on you."

Victoria paused slightly, holding the shopping bag, "Thank you. Let’s go."

Near the elevator was a cozy mother-and-baby store to the right.

It was warmly decorated, with cradles and various baby clothes in soothing pinks, blues, and yellows, a therapeutic sight.

Rhys spoke, "Do you want to take a look inside?"

Victoria withdrew her gaze, "There’s no need."

The more entangled things get, the more painful it is to leave.

In the car, Victoria was silent, her emotions deeply low.

Rhys noticed her hand resting on her abdomen, a somber expression on her face.

"Have you been feeling well these days?" Rhys asked carefully.

After what happened that night, no one knew if the child was still okay.

There had been no significant issues over the past few days, so it seemed everything was fine and the child continued to grow.

Victoria softly responded with a "Mm."

"Actually, whatever happens, in thirteen days, I plan to have surgery."

In Rhys’s position, he should have been happy.

But he wasn’t.

Because with a decision like this, Victoria wasn’t happy at all. Her expression was helpless, even despairing.

She loved children so much and had been preparing for pregnancy for years.

This decision weighed heavily on her.

Rhys fingered his black prayer beads, speaking slowly, "Even if you divorce, with your financial status, you could raise the child alone. You’ve been hurt before; I don’t recommend acting impulsively. Abortion harms your body and this life."

Victoria picked at the decorations on her clothes, her head lowered like a sulking child, "I know. Once I decide to keep this child, it becomes a reason to continue contact with him. I might not see him, but I can’t take away the child’s freedom to see their biological father."

She had experienced Julian Fordham’s obsession before and dared not gamble her future again.

"As long as this child exists, my relationship with him is like a kite. Even if I soar high, he’ll always have a string to control me."

Victoria slowly raised her head, gazing at the snowflake hitting the window.

"I want to leave him, completely escaping his control, and start a new life."

Her expression was fragile, but her eyes were gentle yet determined.

Though she had changed, her inner resilience remained unwavering.

Rhys stopped moving his fingers and softly replied, "As long as you’re sure, there’s no road of regret in life."

Whether to keep or abort the child, he just wished for her happiness.

No matter whether he and Victoria could be together in the future, or if she chose Julian Fordham again.

In his heart, she would always be that pure, kind girl who used to force him to eat garlic.

After a while at the restaurant, Carter York finally showed up.

Besides him, there was Director Lancaster.

Carter glanced at Rhys with a grudge, while Rhys pretended not to see, "Director Lancaster is here too."

Finn Lancaster, full of smiles, said, "I came uninvited. I hope you both don’t mind? It’s been a while since I’ve seen old Carter, and I’d like to have a few drinks with him."

He could be so thick-skinned; what could anyone say? You can’t hit someone who offers a friendly face and certainly can’t drive him away.

Rhys remained calm and composed, "Guests are always welcome."

To everyone’s surprise, Finn sat right next to Victoria, "Ms. Monroe, have you thought about my proposal from a few days ago? You haven’t replied recently, and I’ve been worried. It’s not easy to meet you."

It turned out his intention was not about drinking but Victoria.

Appearing on a reality show wasn’t difficult for Victoria. She had no set public persona to maintain, and she could cook; farm work was even less of a challenge.

"Director Lancaster, I’ve considered your proposal, but I don’t currently have the energy to be a permanent guest."

"Ms. Monroe, the entertainment industry is lacking right now. Many artists are unfamiliar with basic life skills, and only you can take on this role. I’ve seen how you handled cooking while filming before, and I know you’re a pro. Please consider it as a favor to me."

Seeing that Victoria didn’t refuse outright, Director Lancaster hurriedly presented the prepared materials to her.

"Take a look first. This is the remuneration for a single episode. If you’re not satisfied, we can discuss it. I hope we can achieve mutual success."

*

The meal ended.

She already saw Rhys as a friend and didn’t refuse his offer to give her a ride home.

Within five minutes of getting into the car, Victoria was already asleep against the window.

Feeling drowsy during pregnancy was a common reaction.

Victoria’s head repeatedly bumped against the glass, making her uncomfortable even in her sleep, which prompted her to instinctively change position.

To avoid the awkwardness of when they arrived, both of them had sat against opposite car doors, leaving ample space in between.

Victoria’s body gradually slid down, and Rhys wanted to support her but was afraid to wake her.

He could only watch as her head, like a pecking chick, "thudded" onto Rhys’s leg.

Rhys: "..."

He rested a hand on his forehead, feeling a bit helpless as he looked at the woman who was now half-lying down.

Oh, to be young, where you can sleep anywhere.

But Victoria’s sleeping position was a little off.

Her smooth cheek rested against the fabric of his suit trousers, and his pupils deepened as his Adam’s apple involuntarily bobbed.

He tried to move her little face away, but as soon as he touched her, Victoria frowned slightly and grumbled, "Stop it."

Instead of moving away, Victoria even nuzzled her cheek against the fabric of his trouser leg, ignoring Rhys completely, softly murmuring, "I’m so sleepy."

The woman’s gentle breaths filtered through the material, gradually seeping in...