Chapter 539 For Yvette's Body, Endure It
Albert carried Yvette back to bed, settling them both onto the plush mattress. He drew her close against his chest, where she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his skin enveloped her as she closed her eyes, surrendering to this moment of perfect stillness.
Time seemed suspended in their embrace, intimate and precious.
Albert's fingers threaded gently through her hair. "Are they asleep?"
"Yeah, otherwise, how could I have come back so quickly?" Yvette's voice carried a hint of amusement.
"Seems like they really care about you. When I put them to bed, they rarely settle down this fast." Albert's quiet laughter rumbled through his chest.
Something in his tone made her lift her head to study his face. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, she caught the tenderness in his eyes—unguarded and real.
"Did you stay with them every night while I was gone?"
"If neither of us were there, they'd feel completely lost." His voice roughened slightly. "I couldn't let that happen."
The admission hit her harder than expected. Back then, Albert hadn't even believed BoBo and CiCi were his children, yet he'd treated them as his own, never missing a bedtime.
Albert's exhausted appearance told the whole story of what those weeks had been like—the Valdemar Group demanding his attention, the children needing him, and somewhere in between, his worry for her.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"I'm glad I did it. Otherwise, I'd spend the rest of my life wondering if I deserved to be their father." His voice dropped to barely above a murmur. "At least now I know I tried to do right by them."
The raw honesty in his words made her chest tighten. She could feel his sincerity, the depth of his feelings for her, for them—a warmth that spread through her like sunlight breaking through clouds.
But as she gazed at his face, all sharp angles softened by affection, a chill of fear crept in. They'd fought so hard to reach this point, and she couldn't bear the thought of letting go. Yet the specter of her condition loomed large. If the heavy metal poisoning was truly killing her, if her time was running out...
She had BoBo and CiCi. She had Albert, who loved her. She couldn't leave them. She wouldn't.
In Albert's dark eyes, she caught her own reflection—pale, hollow-cheeked, her gaze lacking its usual spark. She'd never looked so fragile, so breakable.
The words almost spilled out—a desperate plea for him to save her, to fix this somehow. But seeing the hope shining in his expression, the contentment he'd found in their happiness, she hesitated.
How could she shatter this moment by telling him she might be dying? Would it destroy him all over again?
Her eyes burned with unshed tears.
Albert noticed the shift immediately, his hand cupping her face with gentle concern. "What's wrong? Are you in pain? Should we go back to the hospital?"
The guilt in his expression made her throat close up. She shook her head, fighting back the tears. "No, I'm fine."
"Then what is it?" His gaze searched hers intently, as if he could read her very soul. "What are you thinking about?"
"Does knowing BoBo and CiCi are yours... does it help with the regret?" Her voice trembled despite her efforts to steady it. "Does it make losing the other baby hurt less?"
Albert's expression shifted, pain flickering across his features. The miscarriage was still a raw wound for both of them, one that ached whenever touched.
His hand moved to cradle the back of her head, shielding his emotions from her view. "The regret doesn't fade, but I'm grateful you protected them when everything fell apart. We have them, and that's enough."
Her nose stung with the threat of tears. She could hear the unhealed hurt in his voice, matching her own.
Yvette wrapped her arms around his lean waist, seeking and offering comfort in equal measure. They didn't speak of it again, but their embrace said everything—two hearts sharing the weight of loss and the blessing of what remained.
Albert studied her flushed nose and bright eyes before leaning down to press the softest kiss to the tip of her nose. The gesture was reverent, as if she were made of spun glass.
Yvette's lashes fluttered in response, and Albert's breath ghosted across her skin, sending pleasant shivers through her. The warmth of his lips, the careful tenderness of his touch—it filled her with a peace she'd almost forgotten existed.
Their heartbeats seemed to synchronize, creating a rhythm all their own. The air between them grew sweet and heady as Albert's kisses trailed lower, capturing her lips with gentle insistence.
Yvette stiffened for just a moment before melting into him, her breathing quickening as she responded to his touch. Albert deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, savoring her softness and warmth.
Her body trembled against his, and he could feel her pulse racing beneath his palm as he cupped her face. The kiss grew more intense, their breathing ragged with shared desire.
Yvette's eyes were closed, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, her fingers clutching at his shirt—until suddenly, Albert went rigid.
She blinked up at him in confusion, her lips still swollen from his kisses. "What's wrong?"
The desire in his eyes was unmistakable, but so was his restraint. His jaw was tight with the effort of holding himself back.
"Not now. Your body needs rest." His voice was rough, strained with want and concern in equal measure.
Heat bloomed across her cheeks as she felt the tension in his frame, the careful control he was exercising for her sake. Her heart was still racing, but she understood his restraint came from love, not rejection.
Albert took a shaky breath and managed a rueful smile. "Don't look so disappointed. When you're better, we'll make up for lost time."
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