Gone was the sarcastic attitude Louie had around Anathea.
“You guys have been broken up for so long, and you still can’t let it go?” Adrian couldn’t help but try to comfort him.
“I told you–it’s not that I can’t let it go! I just… hate her to death!” Louie cried even harder.
“Shut up.” Gregory couldn’t take it anymore and warned coldly, “If you keep wailing, I’ll have you personally escort that lawyer
out.”
Louie immediately went silent, but since he’d just been crying, he was sniffling and hiccuping. It didn’t match his image at all.
Adrian pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh.
“By the way, she was asleep for the past two days. Check her over and see how her condition is,” Gregory instructed, his tone carrying a hint of concern.
Anathea had fainted that day and slept for two whole days–deeply too, which was completely unlike her. He was worried something might be wrong with her body.
Finally managing to calm down, Louie wiped his nose with a tissue and looked at Gregory. “I already drew a tube of blood while she was unconscious. The detailed results will be ready by tomorrow.”
“Alright.” Gregory nodded.
“Since you already drew blood, you might as well do a DNA test too right? Just to be sure whether the baby is really Gregory’s,” Adrian suggested.
He figured there was no way Gregory didn’t care. What man wouldn’t want to know if the child in his wife’s belly was actually his?
“No need,” Gregory said firmly, his eyes fixed on Anathea’s room. His tone left no room for doubt. “The baby is mine.”
If he couldn’t even be sure of that much, he would just be downright stupid.
Anathea looked at the prawn soup Bella brought in, seeming a bit conflicted.
“Mrs. Sinclair, please eat a little,” Bella urged gently.
Gregory stood off to the side, watching Anathea eat. She was far too thin now.
Anathea had only taken a couple of bites of the prawn when she remembered the strong fishy taste from the family luncheon.
Covering her mouth, she rushed to the bathroom.
Gregory followed close behind. When she heard him retching, he gently patted her back, pressing his lips into a thin line.
Anathea nearly threw up everything she’d just eaten. Her face was pale.
Gregory handed her a cup of water to rinse her mouth and held her by the shoulders. “You can’t stand the taste?”
Anathea nodded weakly. Gregory looked at her grimly, It was no wonder she couldn’t gain weight–she couldn’t even eat properly.
Anathea lay back down in bed and watched his back as he silently left the room, unsure of what had made him upset.
He used to be indifferent and cold, rarely showing emotion. Now, though, he was unpredictable and moody.
Surely, it wasn’t because of her?
Anathea quickly shoved that thought aside. She knew herself well enough to know she couldn’t have that much of an impact on
1/2
L
Gregory.
Yet, she recalled that night when Gregory had roared in a fit of fury. “I went insane the moment you said you didn’t love me, that you’re leaving me!”
Anathea lowered her gaze, her mind tangled in countless thoughts she couldn’t sort through no matter how hard she tried.
Half–lying in bed, she felt a little hungry but didn’t dare eat for fear of throwing up again.
Without a phone, she had no way to contact the outside world, which made her increasingly anxious.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before Gregory pushed the door open and walked in. He was holding a plate with steam rising from it.
More food?
Anathea wanted to say she really couldn’t eat anymore.
But when he sat down beside the bed and stirred the contents with a spoon, a familiar aroma wafted to her nose.
It was… the scent of ravioli from Hale Eatery!
Anathea froze.
Gregory scooped up a spoonful and blew on it gently before touching it with the top of his lip to check the temperature. Once he was sure it wasn’t too hot, he brought it to her mouth.
“Open up.”
20
