Chapter501 Carter Brings the Kid Home
Days later, Patricia called Hunter to her room.
Hunter stared at the dessert before him, incredulous. "Did you make this for me?"
Hadn't Patricia always hated him? Wished for his immediate death? Why would she go out of her way to make him dessert?
Although delighted, his ingrained instincts sounded alarms, breeding suspicion.
"Forget it then!" Patricia snatched the dessert away without hesitation, tossed it into the trash bin, and then turned and walked upstairs without looking back.
Hunter hurried after her and grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry; don't be mad. I didn't say I wouldn't eat it!"
Patricia ignored him, proceeded toward her room, opened the door, shook off his hand with force, and, after entering, slammed the door shut with a bang.
Hunter became frantic. This was the first time Patricia had made a dessert for him, and his doubt had ruined it. And now, he had upset her.
He knocked gently at the door. "Patricia, I didn't mean anything by it; I just hesitated. Please don't be mad! I promise you, next time, I'll eat it without hesitation."
No response came from inside. Hunter knew Patricia was furious.
After continued knocking and pleading outside the door, the door suddenly opened just as he thought Patricia would keep ignoring him. Patricia looked at him expressionless.
A flicker of hope lit up Hunter's face. "Patricia, you're not mad anymore?"
"Did you mean what you just said?" she asked.
Hunter was momentarily stunned, not quite catching her meaning, then quickly remembering his earlier words, nodded vigorously. "Of course, it's true. I'd be happy to have you make desserts for me."
Even though he wasn't fond of sweets, as long as Patricia made them, he'd be willing to eat anything. Patricia's lips twitched slightly, and Hunter paused momentarily, thinking he might have seen it wrong, but Patricia had already closed the door again before he could take a closer look.
Stunned as if struck by lightning, he stood there foolishly, unable to snap out of it for the longest time. Had Patricia just smiled at him? It was a smile, right?
He chuckled to himself. Incredibly, Patricia had smiled at him.
Hunter couldn't recall how he managed to walk away from Patricia's door, but he was in high spirits, smiling to himself, even woke up chuckling at night. He had thought that Patricia might make him some dessert the next day, but there was no sign of it for the next three days. Disappointment began to set in.
On the fourth day, as he sat at the dining table eating and occasionally glancing at Patricia, he intended to hint at something subtly, but before he could speak, Patricia arrived with a plate adorned with a beautiful starburst design. On the plate were five miniature cakes wrapped in starburst-patterned parchment paper and coated with a thick layer of frosting, topped with a rosy swirl. They looked as though they had been purchased from a boutique bakery.
Patricia sat beside him, hands clasped on the table, chin resting atop her knuckles, and looked at him with eager eyes. "Try one. Let me know how it tastes."
Remembering his previous hesitation, Hunter didn't dare delay. He picked up a fork from his plate and scooped up a bite. He wasn't fond of sweets, and as an adult, he barely touched cakes, especially the frosting, which he found overly rich.
He felt the same now, but because Patricia had made it herself, he could overlook the cloying sweetness of the frosting. He smiled. "It's quite good! Tastes better than store-bought."
Picking up on his cue, Patricia pushed the plate closer. "If you like it, eat them all! I spent a long time making them."
Despite his distaste, Hunter gritted his teeth and managed to eat all five cakes. After finishing, he immediately gulped water to wash down the sweetness.
Seeing the plates wiped clean, a shadow of coldness flickered in Patricia's eyes, and then she picked up the plate and returned to the kitchen. There, she turned on the faucet and meticulously washed the plate.
Lately, Hunter's mood had been consistently bright. Every day, Patricia would surprise him with something different to eat. Sometimes, it was dessert. Other times, she cooked a meal. She only made a little, just enough for one. It made him wonder if Patricia had forgiven him and was ready to reconcile.
The question had been weighing on his mind for days.
After having another serving of Patricia's mango pudding, he couldn't help but ask, "Patricia, have you... have you forgiven me?" His voice barely concealed his anxiety.
Patricia glanced at him indifferently without answering. She picked up the bowl that had held the mango pudding and walked to the kitchen sink to wash it clean.
Hunter was puzzled by Patricia's intentions but dared not probe further.
He felt that their relationship was strange. Patricia would cook for him daily, yet there seemed to be a barrier around her. Anytime he got too close, it felt like he was pushed back. He felt they were slowly drawing closer, but a vast distance was still between them. It was suffocating. He didn't know how to navigate the situation.
If Patricia hit or yelled at him, at least he could grasp her emotions. But now, he couldn't decipher what she was thinking. Her expressions were neutral primarily; sometimes, her lips would quirk as if to smile, but it wasn't quite a smile. She seemed approachable yet was so hard to reach.
This went on for a month.
Lately, Hunter had been feeling odd: bouts of nausea, headaches and dizziness, overwhelming fatigue, weakness in his limbs, as if he couldn't muster strength, and his spirits were extraordinarily low. At first, he thought it was due to being overworked and lack of sleep.
After resting for a few days with no improvement, the symptoms had worsened—he even experienced rapid breathing and an erratic heartbeat. He went to the hospital for a check-up, but the doctors found nothing wrong. They advised him to rest at home and gave him some medicine.
In the evening, Patricia sat on her bed with an apple core in her hand, carefully carving out the seeds with a small knife. Just then, her cell phone rang on the nightstand. After ensuring all the seeds were removed from the apple core, she tossed the core into the trash bin, wrapped the seeds in a tissue, and placed them under her pillow.
She picked up the phone and saw it was a call from Jade. She quickly answered the call and brought the phone to her ear.
Before she could speak, Jade blurted out impatiently, "Patricia, where are you? When are you coming back? Carter's back, and—he's brought your son."
"What?" Patricia thought she must have heard wrong. Pausing briefly in confusion, she asked uncertainly, "What did you just say?"
Agitated, Jade's voice trembled slightly as she said, "Carter's back, and he's brought a baby boy with him, claiming he's your son."
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