Mateo probed, “So, how far along is Mrs. Sinclair?”
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Gregory paused. He hadn’t gone with Anathea to her prenatal checkups and wasn’t sure how far along the pregnancy was, but he could make a fair guess. “I’d say about 12 weeks.”
“Alright, then.” Mateo nodded. “Seeing as she’s pregnant, putting her on a drip to lower her fever may affect the baby, It’s best if we use tepid sponging instead. I’ll also prescribe a few pregnancy–friendly medications.
“It’s important to let Mrs. Sinclair get as much rest as possible for the time being. She’ll need to stick to a nutritious diet too. If you ask me, she looks a little malnourished…”
Gregory listened closely to what Mateo said and took notes. After that, Jenny brought a basin of cold water. She wet a towel with it and moved to sponge Anathea.
“I’ll do it,” Gregory said, taking the towel.
Jenny froze and watched as Gregory gently placed the towel on Anathea’s forehead. His free hand then carefully wiped down her arm, and he repeated the process over and over, hoping to lower Anlathea’s fever.
Jenny noted the way Gregory was looking at Anathea. It was a tentative gaze, like he was staring at something precious he wanted to protect.
Jenny had never seen him look at Anathea with such tenderness.
“Come on, give them some space,” Mateo prompted.
Only then did Jenny snap to her senses. She hurried out of the room to give Gregory and Anathea privacy.
When Jenny and Mateo left, Gregory was alone with Anathea in the bedroom. A hush descended upon them once more.
The silvery moonlight pouring through the window illuminated the room, allowing Gregory to see Anathea’s feather–like lashes fluttering.
She wasn’t asleep, yet she kept her eyes closed because she didn’t want to see Gregory.
Seeing him would remind her of the things he’d done–the brutish way he’d forced himself on her, tortured and humiliated her.
If she had a knife, she reckoned she’d plunge it in his chest without a second thought.
But she couldn’t do it—at least that was what the last of her rational mind told her. There was too much at stake, and if she were to get locked up behind bars, her life would truly be over.
As such, Anathea was left treading between rage and sorrow. Her eyelashes began fluttering.
Although Gregory could sense her hatred, there was nothing he could do unless she willingly opened her eyes and spoke to him.
It was ironic. Even though he’d ruled the business world for years, he found himself at a loss for the first time–and at the hands
of his wife, no less.
But that didn’t stop him from sponging Anathea over and over in hopes of bringing down her fever. Now nothing else mattered more to him than Anathea’s physical well–being.
Anathea’s fever didn’t break until five in the morning.
She had, quite literally, a fever dream. In her dream, Fiona had fully recovered from her illness, and Adam was exone his charges.
of all
She dreamt of bringing Adam home with Fiona, after which they left Castenea and moved to a place where no one knew them.
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Chapter 248
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Anathea then had an adorable baby girl who was like a precious porcelain doll, with her eyes, nose, and mouth strongly resembling Anathea’s.
They lived a happy, idyllic life without Gregory and Xander. Everything was peaceful and wonderful. So wonderful that Anathea didn’t want to wake from the dream.
However, as her consciousness returned, she slowly opened her eyes.
She realized she’d had yet another dream. Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes, and the pillow under her head was already soaked.
She made to get up but realized that her blanket was being weighed down by something.
She turned to see Gregory sleeping by her bedside. His face was pressed against the blanket, and his breathing was even.
The early morning light that penetrated the sheer drapes played over his face, bringing out the shadows under his eyes and the exhaustion lining his features. Stubble had even grown out of his chin. And yet, none of that made his chiseled face look any less handsome.
Anathea tore her gaze from him, not wanting to look at him anymore, and tugged the blanket roughly.
A grunt escaped Gregory as he startled awake. He opened his bleary eyes and found Anathea already sitting up in bed. His gaze lit up. “You’re awake! How do you feel? Are you alright?”
He reached out to touch her forehead and check her temperature, but she frowned and ducked her head to the side to avoid his hand.
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