And The Daddy Is… The Infertile Guy?!

Chapter 43

“Don’t be shy, girl,” Roselind whispered, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “Maybe that’s why Howard is so eager to pop those pills and get well soon.”

“Right. We can’t have the lovely Gwendolyn becoming a lonely widow, can we? Once Dr. Waldo gets Howard back on his feet, they’ll be having a baby every other year. I’d love to start a family too.” Marina added without a hint of reservation, given her close ties with the Chadwick family.

Gwendolyn buzzed her ears, drowning out their conversation. She desperately tried to piece together glimpses of that night. It was hard to tell whether the fleeting and hazy images were real or not.

Was the deep and hurried breathing in her ear as well as the scorching touch exploring her body all real?

Gwendolyn stood rooted to the spot, her legs as heavy as lead.

“Honey, it’s getting late. Let’s head home,” Jameson called as he descended the staircase.

Standing up and patting Gwendolyn on the shoulder, Roselind said with a calmness that had. returned, “You know, when I think about it, neither you nor Howard is reckless. We were the ones who jumped the gun tonight.”

It was the fierce love of a mother speaking.

Gwendolyn shook her head, her voice a mere wisp, “No, it’s not like that.”

“Get some rest. We’ll see ourselves out.”

Roselind, arm in arm with Jameson, headed for the door, followed by Marina to see them off.

Outside, Jameson offered cheekily, “It was Nathan who brought those pills, not him.”

“I see.” With a weary expression, Roselind opened the car door. NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

Jameson extended his hand, “Let me take care of that stuff. Heard it’s quite potent. It seems a waste to just throw it away.”

“Jameson, are you out of your mind?” Roselind snapped, her cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“Well… it’s not the first time,” he murmured. “You enjoyed it too, remember?”

Back inside the living room.

Gwendolyn patted her burning cheeks and took slow steps upstairs.

Reaching Howard’s door, she hesitated, feeling as though a boulder weighed on her chest.

“If you keep pacing like that, you’ll kill all the ants at the door. Aren’t you coming in?” His deep voice drew her out of her thoughts.

Startled, Gwendolyn resigned herself to the inevitable and opened the door.

“Marina keeps the house spotless. There are no ants,” she said softly.

“It is clean,” Howard noted, his voice tinged with a faint reproach,

Approaching the bed. Gwendolyn saw he had changed into a crisp cotton nightshirt. Her gaze involuntarily fell on his neck, where the marks had almost faded.

“Why’s your face so red?” Howard remarked casually as his eyes swept over her.

“Mr. Chadwick,” Gwendolyn bit her lip. “About that night… I was drunk…”

As she spoke. Howard understood. The events of that night couldn’t be ignored,

“What? Are you referring to the bruising?” he teased with a faint smile,

Gwendolyn was mortified.

“When I drink too much, I forget things. What did we do?” Her eyes, bright and ashamed, were misty with confusion.

“Afraid I took advantage of you?” he countered.

“No! Mr. Chadwick, I’m afraid I might have done something inappropriate that upset you,” she hurried to explain.

His face broke into a grin, “It was just a bit of drunken folly, a minor mishap Don’t worry about it. I haven’t taken it to heart.”

If he didn’t let it go, she would be devastated.

How could they ever face each other again?

“Really? Just drunken folly?” Gwendolyn sought confirmation.

“What else? Did you cling to me, kiss and bite me, and even tape me?” Howard was calm, “Gwendolyn, after all I am a man.”