Chapter 30

Kenneth stayed with me. Every day, he would change the baby's diapers, put the baby to sleep, and then come to talk with me. But I was conflicted. My mom advised me,
"Kenneth doesn't even go to his company now, he's focused on being with you, taking care of the baby. You've finally come to the end of the tunnel. It's obvious that he still loves you, why don't you give it another try?"
No matter how she talked to me, there was always a knot in my heart. Sometimes, I eagerly anticipated his presence here. Other times, I worried that it was all just an illusion, and he would leave again as soon as someone sent him a message. So I remained distant towards him. When the nanny brought the baby over, I would smile and chat with him while ignoring Kenneth.
Kenneth carried the child over and said, “Go and make formula, let Grace rest more.”
“Breastfeeding is good for the baby.”
“Yes, their resistance will be better.” My mom and the nanny said at the same time.
“She’s not in good condition right now, she needs more rest,” he insisted, “The child is not everything, she is more important.”
He shut the nanny and my mom out and took care of me and the child alone. I watched him skillfully change diapers, make formula, soothe the child, and feed the baby. From being clumsy at first to becoming proficient now. After soothing the child, he came over to massage my legs and encouraged me to move more.
“Aren’t you tired?” I asked him.
I didn’t know where he found the energy; in fact, he hardly slept this week. His dark circles were becoming more pronounced.
“Not tired,” he continued massaging me.
“I feel tired.”
He paused for a moment, “Rest if you’re tired, I’ll be here. What’s wrong?” he saw tears inexplicably flowing from my eyes and became somewhat panicked.
“I don’t understand why I wanted to have a child myself,” I calmly cried while lying down.
He bent down and held me in his arms for a long time, “Blame me, let’s not have any more, okay?”
Any more? What future is there? I seem to have postpartum depression.
Later, my mom mentioned that Katie and Kelvin had broken up completely because Kelvin got engaged to someone else.
“That brother of his is really ruthless. Even though she went to study where he is going to school, he got engaged to someone else. Kenneth is reliable though. I’ve seen him take care of the baby and helping you with everything these days. He genuinely treats you well.”
I felt a wave of sorrow. Reliable? What’s so reliable? Katie has no chance with Kelvin now, and I’m feel mentally caged in the fear of her coming back for Kenneth.
While Kenneth busily prepares milk formula, I hold the child, but as soon as he is in my arms, he cries so loud and can’t be comforted. I suddenly feel so sad.
“You can take the baby, I won’t compete with you anymore. You are better at taking care of him, and he doesn’t breastfeed anymore. I feel useless.”
He stared at me silently but continued massaging me, helping me relax. “Rest well, be good, and don’t overthink.”
“I’m being serious. Since Katie finally broke up with your brother, it will be your turn to leave also.”
He stood there stunned, “Don’t mention others, it’s none of my business.”
“Don’t worry about me, what if I’m like this forever? Can’t get better?” I sighed.
They say postpartum depression is difficult to recover from, and my emotions are easily out of control. I don’t know how to get better, if it’s even possible.
“Why have you been pushing me away?” he says suddenly with so much his emotions.
He, who is usually calm and composed, actually had tears in his eyes.
“I don’t want pity from anyone, I can live well on my own.” I continued.
“You can definitely live well.” He helped me tidy up my clothes and muttered, “You can turn your back on me the day after you get what you want, only come to me when you want something, and ignore me if I don’t give it to you. You can go weeks or even months without finding me, and you only come to me for money. Can have my child, play and fool around with other men, and give me sleepless nights.
“You see, you can really live well on your own. It’s only me who’s not doing well. I fly to Canada once a week just to see you once and inquire about your well-being. Each time I hear, that you’re always with another guy. What should I do for you? Grace, tell me, what am I?”
He complained non-stop, and finally sat on the edge of the bed, silently shedding tears. I was stunned for a moment.
“Don’t you like her?” I cried too, “I was pregnant, fought with her, and that day I was in so much pain. What did you do? You took her to the hospital! Yes, I’m greedy for money, you think I like your money.” I sniffled, “I feel stupid, loving money so much, and yet divorcing someone as rich as you. Am I crazy?”
“I’m sorry...” he collected himself, came over and hugged me, lowering his head to kiss me.
“I admit I used to have feelings for her, but that was in high school, and I couldn’t tell if it was true love or just a habit. But then I met you...I couldn’t let go of anyone else in my heart.
But every time you sweet-talked to me, you made me buy things, and I couldn’t tell whether you truly loved me or were just using me for my money. I was angry, so I did many things that made you sad.
I cried, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
He cried: “Don’t cry, your crying hurts me.”