“There you go, good boy.”
Sylvia quickly instructed the housekeeper, “Hurry, prepare the medicine again!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Here, give it to him!” Sylvia carried the medicine over to Francis.
Francis coaxed and fed James, who was very cooperative and didn’t make a fuss.
“Oh dear…” Sylvia felt a twinge of envy, smiling, “Dad’s always the best, huh? I couldn’t do the trick.”
James’ cheeks were flushed as he clung to Francis’ hand.
Sylvia, sensing the moment, said, “Daddy’s back now, James. You have a good time with dad, and we’ll leave you two.”
She left with the housekeeper, smiling.
By the bedside, Francis watched over James, applying a new fever patch.
“Daddy…” James’ voice was hoarse from the fever, “Are you my real daddy?”
Huh? Francis paused for a second, then quickly understood what James meant. He nodded affirmatively, “Yes, daddy is your real daddy, your very own.”
Hearing this, James’ lips quivered, and tears started falling.
He was young, but not naive. He understood what that meant.
Sobbing, he asked, “Then, daddy, where’s my mommy?”
Pausing, he added, “Not the auntie, I mean, my real mommy, the one who gave birth to me?”
“
Francis was at a loss for words… How should he answer?
He knew where his mom was, but their relationship wasn’t exactly straightforward…
“Daddy.”
Not getting a response, James let his imagination wander, “Is my mommy… is she dead? Not in this world anymore?” “No, not at all!”
Francis didn’t even have to think before he denied it.
Rebecca was very much alive! Perhaps not in the best of circumstances…
“Then…” James’ little mouth puckered again, “Does mommy not like James?”
Francis was puzzled by his son’s thought process, “Why would you think that?”
“It must
true!” James’ tears
flowed freely, the picture of misenet
“Mommy doesn’t like James. She
I comes to see Jamnet
Content
He turned away, presenting his pouty rear to his dad in a huff.
Francis’ lips parted, wanting to say something but stopping short.
How was he supposed to comfort his son?
Did Rebecca like James? He really had no idea…
They say every mother loves their child.
But Rebecca and James had a complicated relationship. Rebecca hadn’t wanted James… After James was born, she left him… Probably, maybe, indeed… she didn’t love
James.
It was his fault.
He, James’ father, was probably an existence Rebecca wished to forget forever… A nightmare, perhaps?
On the bed, James, still upset, eventually drifted off to sleep.
Francis massaged his temples, then tucked James in properly.
“Mmm…” Little James murmured, “Mommy, mommy…”
Francis paused, his hand mid-air. James really did want his mommy.
…
Learning that Rebecca had moved to the Southern District Sanatorium, Sherilyn went to visit her.
After a full tour, she nodded in
This place is nice,
ont, and a good way to stay
from Eddy.”
“Indeed, all thanks to Mr. Francis.”
Sherilyn peeled an orange, its fresh scent filling the air.
“Sherilyn.”
“Hmm?”
“Has Mr. Gilbert contacted you again?”
“…” Sherilyn paused for a moment, then shared half of the orange with her, “No.”
Rebecca took the orange, sighing inwardly. Was this situation good or bad for Sherilyn?
“He should be back from London by now, right?”
“Not sure, probably.”