Chapter 374 Do You Like Children?
"What's wrong?"
Catherine remembered that ever since the science summit a few days ago, George had barely been home. When he did come back, it was only to pester Aurora into calling Emilia for him.
George liked to joke that Emilia never really loved him — she was "in love" with Aurora.
With Aurora's gentle, motherly warmth, it was hard for Emilia to say no. That was the kind of comfort Emilia had been starved for all her life.
If George didn't show up with something Aurora had prepared for her, Emilia wouldn't even let him in the door.
Emilia huffed, cheeks puffed in frustration. "George is a wolf in sheep's clothing. He never keeps his word."
"What did he do?"
Emilia hesitated. There was no way she could tell Catherine that George had promised to stop, only to drag her back into bed again — leaving her sore for days. Even with a close friend, some things were too mortifying to say out loud.
After a pause, she grabbed one of Catherine's textbooks and held it up to hide her flushed face. "I went for a cardiac ultrasound the other day."
Since the fire, Emilia's body had been left with a few lingering issues. And of course, during the exam, she'd run straight into George. The young nurse had taken one look, then handed her over to him without a second thought.
Lying there on the exam bed, Emilia stared at George over the edge of his surgical mask. His dark eyes glinted with a quiet, knowing amusement.
George's tone was all business. "What symptoms?"
"Another doctor already examined me. You can just read the report."
"I'm the doctor here. Or are you? Or do you think it's fine to ignore medical advice?"
She rolled her eyes. After a moment's internal battle, she knew she was cornered. "Shortness of breath and palpitations after exercise. Tightness in the chest. Feels like pressure on my heart."
"What kind of exercise?"
"Boxing."
Visiting the underground fight club had become part of Emilia's daily routine. Her goal was simple — to one day reclaim her title as Catherine's rival, challenge her in the ring, and prove she was worthy of the crown.
George squeezed gel onto the probe, his expression unreadable. "Undo your bra. Lie back."
Emilia shot him a glare but obeyed, shivering slightly as the cold probe slid across her skin. His voice came low and close to her ear as he moved the device over her chest.
"From what I can tell, boxing isn't the only strenuous activity you've been doing lately."
The implication was obvious. Emilia's jaw tightened. She wanted to slap him — twice.
She said nothing, meeting his gaze with icy defiance, even as the pounding of her heart betrayed her. The air between them thickened, a flicker of heat beneath the tension, but Emilia reminded herself she was still furious with him.
When the scan was over, George handed her a few tissues. "Clean yourself up. Unless you want me to do it."
She snatched them from his hand. "Don't trouble yourself."
"The report will take a few minutes. You can wait in my office."
"No."
She dressed quickly and walked out without looking back, heading straight for Imperial University to find Catherine.
"You tell me — isn't he a terrible man? He made me dress myself and clean up on my own! And he knows I hate pumpkin, but he still brings it to me, telling me not to be picky. Who even likes pumpkin?"
Catherine said mildly, "I think that pumpkin was from my mother's garden. She cooked it herself."
Emilia froze, then instantly backpedaled. "It was delicious. I've never had better. George never told me it was from Mrs. Windsor. He's insane."
Catherine had her answer. This wasn't a real fight — more like the strange, sharp-edged affection of a couple who knew each other too well.
She arched a brow. "If George is such a terrible man, what if he treated other women the way he treats you?"
Emilia blinked, caught off guard. She faltered. The truth was, George was good to her — patient, steady, even with her erratic moods. When she spiraled, he took her skydiving. When Blade of Dusk became a problem, he handled it quietly behind the scenes. More than once, when she threw him out, he'd slept in his car until morning just to take her to breakfast.
"Better to keep him to myself. " she said finally, a little too loud. "Not that I… dislike it."
Her voice dropped. "Do you think I've been too much?"
Catherine's lips curved in a knowing smile. "George didn't meet you after you became like this. He knew exactly who you were from day one. Maybe he likes you this way."
From what she'd seen, George certainly didn't seem to mind.
Emilia mulled it over and realized she might have been overthinking things.
"If you're worried, why not just ask him?" Catherine added. "You're dating him, not me."
Then her gaze sharpened. She reached over, took Emilia's wrist, and checked her pulse, noting the faint shadows under her eyes.
"Don't go to the fight club for a while. Rest. I'll let them know."
"What? Is something wrong with me?"
The pulse was only a hint, nothing conclusive. Catherine didn't want to alarm her. "You're just not resting enough. Skip the fights for now."
Emilia's eyes widened. "Oh God, is it some kind of terminal illness? The kind you don't even need medicine for? Catherine, don't scare me."
"Don't be ridiculous. You're healthy. The Hughes family doesn't have any hereditary conditions."
Catherine hesitated, then asked casually, "Do you like children?"
"Of course. Marriage scares me, but I want kids. Lots of them."
Catherine sighed. "If you have that many, George will be the one suffering."
"That's different. People can get divorced, but kids are yours forever. Look at my mom — if it weren't for me avenging her, she'd have no one."
"Your mom would rather see you happy than avenging her."
"I know. But if I had a child who loved me that much, I'd feel complete."
She leaned back, eyes bright with longing. "You don't get it, Catherine. Someone like me needs a child to heal me."
She might dream of motherhood, but with George beside her, she already felt… whole.
Catherine saw the shimmer of tears at the corner of her eyes and said nothing more. Better to wait until things were stable before suggesting a full check-up. George was a doctor — if something was wrong, he would notice.
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