Chapter 170
On that fateful evening, young Milo found himself abandoned by his parents, seemingly forgotten by the Gladstone family. The family’s finances were in shambles, and Caleb’s folks were busy with work, leaving the boy to fend for himself.
Caleb was as drunk as a lord, his whereabouts unknown, presumably sprawled on some woman’s bed. Eve was also as drunk as a fiddler, lying unconscious at the FitzGerald Mansion.
Kristin couldn’t bear to trust the Gladstone’s help to whisk Milo away. She pleaded with Rhett to let the boy stay, her eyes brimming with concern.
Elated yet cautious, Milo clung to Summer’s hand, his excitement palpable but contained.
After all, loneliness was a child’s greatest fear, but with a playmate by his side, the world seemed a bit brighter.
“Good thing that I switched Summer to a big kid’s bed,” Rhett mused, leaning against the revamped children’s room’s doorframe, ruffling Summer’s hair. “Is it more comfortable now, kiddo, with your growing sprout legs and all?”
Beaming, Summer bolted to the bathroom and found the sink and basin lowered to his height. “You’re the best, Dad!”
Basking in the praise, Rhett couldn’t help but smirk.
“Okay, pumpkins, time for wash up and hit the hay. School’s up early, and we’re inching closer to middle school. Must keep those grades up, you hear that?” Kristin cooed, shepherding the two tykes to brush their teeth.
Not one to watch from the sidelines, Rhett scooped up Summer, squeezing toothpaste onto a brand–new froggy toothbrush.
“I love this toothbrush!” Summer was thrilled with the gift. Anything Dad gave him was a
treasure.
Milo eyed the pink piggy brush Kristin had handed him, a frown creasing his brow. “Aunt Kristin, why’s mine pink? Pink is for little girls, and I’m a big boy.”
Kristin chuckled at his protest. “Who says pink’s only for girls? Boys can rock pink, too.”
It was then Kristin’s cheeks flushed, realizing Milo had called her… Aunt Kristin.
Rhett suppressed a laugh, quite pleased with the title.
“I want the froggy one,” Milo, soiled at home, pointed at Summer’s froggy brush, yearning for green.
“Milo, you’re a guest in our home, and guests need to mind their manners, not snatch things from their hosts. Got it?” Rhett gently admonished.
12.13
Wary of Rhett Millo nodded and got ready to brush his teeth without further fuss.
The pink piggy’s cute, though, Summer whispered. “Want to exchange?”
Milo’s eyes glistened, hope flickering. “Really?”
Summer nodded, handing over the froggy brush.
After a moment’s thought, Milo decided. “I’ll stick with the piggy. Piggies are cute.”
Side by side, the boys brushed their teeth. “Top and bottom, don’t forget, or the cavity critters will get you,” Summer advised, sounding every bit the responsible elder he was
not.
Kristin tiptoed out of the bathroom, clutching Rhett’s sleeve, and they silently withdrew, leaving the youngsters to their newfound independence.
“I’ve made some sweet pear and almond dessert for you,” Kristin offered timidly, recalling Rhett’s earlier complaints of an upset stomach. “It might help settle your tummy.”
“Oh, right,” Rhett remembered faking discomfort to dodge dinner.
Kristin’s face lit up with a smile as she hurried to the kitchen to dish out the dessert.
At least she believed she was of some value to Rhett.
Sitting at the dinner table, Rhett hesitated to speak, his words catching in his throat. Kristin sat beside him, quiet as a mouse.
“Kristin, here’s the thing. Hertha will see you as a thorn in her side. You have to be careful around her. She’s not like Adrienne. Adrienne’s bad, but at least she’s upfront about it. Some people play a deeper game, and they’re harder to guard against,” Rhett cautioned.
Kristin blinked in surprise. Was Rhett warning her about Hertha? Did the same Hertha seen as a pure jasmine flower by other men look like a schemer in Rhett’s eyes?
“Miss Hertha… she’s quite capable,” Kristin murmured.
Hertha might have her wiles, but she could be helpful if she were on the same team as Rhett. A marriage alliance between their families wouldn’t be entirely without merit.
“Mr. Holcomb has been laying low, hard to read. He’s probably still wary of your alliance with the Haywood family. If you and Hertha were to…” Kristin was, in her way, trying to play matchmaker.
Rhett’s expression turned sour. Setting down his spoon, he spoke with a chill in his voice. “Kristin, I’ve said it before. There’s no future for me and Hertha. If there were, you wouldn’t have any place here, would you? Since you’re here, scrap any delusions of setting me up with Hertha.”
With that, Rhett stood and ascended the stairs. He was upset.
He was upset because Kristin was all business, seeing their relationship as nothing more than professional. He knew she had no feelings for him, so he clung to the idea of her needing him, of having a purpose to stay.
As long as he had value to her, she wouldn’t leave.
And to bind Kristin to him, Rhett knew he had to make her fall for him, to make her unable to live without him.
So, starting tomorrow, he’d spoil her, cater to her every whim, and make her dependent on him for every breath.
Left alone at the table, Kristin’s eyes welled up with tears.
Had she angered Rhett? She felt so useless.
She had no prestigious family to back her up or a spotless reputation.
If only she were still a Turner, she wouldn’t push Rhett toward Hertha.
But she wanted what was best for Rhett, even if it meant stepping aside.
She had to consider everything for Rhett’s sake.
So far, Holcomb hadn’t made a move against Rhett, but when Holcomb did, Kristin would be helpless, no matter how capable she was.
Her little wits seemed frail and feeble in the face of family heritage and power.
In the bedroom,
Kristin gently pushed open the bedroom door. Rhett seemed to be asleep already.
She sighed with relief, tiptoed to the bed, and settled on the edge furthest from Rhett, nearly rolling off the bed the next second.
Rhett suddenly reached out and pulled Kristin into his arms, holding her tight.
Kristin’s breath hitched, heart racing, nearly shouting in surprise. She feared the closeness and touch of others, so her body became tense subconsciously.
Suppressing the discomfort, Kristin took deep breaths to calm herself.
Luckily, the person holding her was Rhett. She could settle down quickly as she listened to his heartbeat and felt the warmth of his embrace.
“Mr. FitzGerald…” Kristin whispered his name softly.
Rhett remained silent, simply holding her, arms slowly tightening.
Last night, he had dreamt of that night six years ago. The woman was begging for mercy beneath him.
12:14
He didn’t know if it was Kristin, but the guilt plagued him, making him constantly afraid.
He was afraid that he had caused Kristin’s severe depression, multiple suicide attempts, and the serious somatization of her anxiety.
He was afraid that he had made Kristin face childbirth alone and endure six years of scandal and vicious rumors.
He was afraid that it wasn’t Vincent, Clarence, or those who had hurt Kristin, but he who had pushed her into the abyss crushed the rose beneath his feet and left her lying in the mire.
Sensing that something was off with Rhett, Kristin turned anxiously in his arms and reached to touch his forehead. It was burning hot.
“Mr. FitzGerald, you have a fever.”
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