The elevator doors at the hospital opened, and steady footsteps echoed as Old Mrs. Brown paused.
She looked up and saw Conrad’s maternal grandfather, Old Mr. Jackson.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see how much trouble this little brat has caused lately,” Old Mr. Jackson said, his white hair visible as he stared through the glass window, quickly pinpointing a small bundle. “I brought a doctor from the military district and humbled myself to beg him, hoping to save her. What about that bastard? I heard he married that girl himself?”
Old Mrs. Brown sighed. “He went to pray to the gods. Don’t speak of him; no one feels worse than he does right now.”
Old Mr. Jackson’s expression softened. After all, he was his daughter’s son-how could he not feel pain? “Let’s save the baby first.”
“She only drank a little today, but she’s learned how to burp.”
“The baby smiled today and even had two little dimples. So cute.”
“She really looks like Mr. Conrad.”
The nurse’s station sent videos every day.
The only joy Conrad had each day was waiting to watch the baby’s video.
The people who went out looking for Lillian still hadn’t received any news.
He watched the baby on the screen, she getting plumper.
“Look, she smiled!” He said excitedly.
Melissa nodded. “I see it, I see it. Her eyes and brows look like Lillian’s, but her nose is like yours-straight and proud. She’s going to be such a beautiful child.”
George subconsciously glanced at Melissa, wondering who their child would look like.
“Look at her little hands. She has little dimples on her fingers. She’s getting chubbier.”
Old Mrs. Brown came to visit every day as well.
Melissa also got a chance to meet Conrad’s mysterious maternal grandfather.
Old Mr. Jackson was sharp and energetic, but whenever he looked at the baby, he would show a hint of affectionate tenderness. Most of the time, though, he didn’t spare Conrad a kind word.
“I asked you to follow in my footsteps, but you refused. You didn’t walk the wide and prosperous path, you insisted on going back to City N and getting involved in that messy Brown family business. I heard your father was sent away by your grandmother?”
“Yeah.”
“What about that woman you married?”
“Her name is Lillian, she’s my wife, not just some woman.”
“I thought you were just like your dad, a player, but I didn’t expect you to take after your mom. You, just like her, are someone who falls deeply in love and never regrets it.” When Old Mr. Jackson thought of Conrad’s mother, his gaze softened. “Raising a daughter isn’t the same as raising a son. You need to be patient. I heard the doctors say her condition is improving.”
Conrad nodded, “If I promise something, I always keep my word. The baby will live.”
Old Mr. Jackson hesitated, then said, “Hmm.”
When the discharge notice arrived, Conrad was at a loss for what to do. “Will the baby dislike me, looking like this?”
Ford laughed and sighed in relief. “Mr. Conrad, you’re always handsome. Go pick up her. You’ve done a great job setting up the nursery.”
Conrad felt like it still wasn’t enough. He made sure to bring a stuffed toy with him when he left.
When he got to the hospital, he handed over the freshly washed cotton baby clothes to the nurse.
When the nurse brought out the baby, everyone looked at Conrad in unison.
He stiffly opened his arms.
Old Mrs. Brown quickly adjusted him, making his arms a bit softer. “This is your daughter, not a sack of potatoes.”
Conrad swallowed nervously.
The nurse smiled as she gently placed the baby in his arms.
“Why is she so light? Like a feather.” Conrad frowned.
“She’s not light. She’s already 7 pounds. When she first came, she only weighed 5 pounds.” The nurse was afraid Conrad would blame them for not feeding her properly.
Conrad looked down at the little girl in his arms.
She had just woken up, blowing bubbles, probably after a full meal. She stared at Conrad, her eyes wide open, not blinking.
Her pupils, like the blue sea, gazed up at him, reflecting his face.
Conrad couldn’t hold it in and gently said. “You really look like your mother. You’re as pretty as a little princess.”
Hogan couldn’t help but lean in. “Conrad, your daughter is really something.”
Just a smile from her, and you’d want to tell her your bank card password.
Conrad gave him a look of disdain. “Go away.”
“Alright, alright, let’s get home!” Old Mrs. Brown urged.
Hospitals are full of germs. It’s much safer to get home as soon as possible.
In fact, the baby’s weakness had been present even before birth.
Even with five nannies at home, Conrad still couldn’t relax.
The baby was easily startled.
Any slight noise would wake the baby up.
Conrad often stayed up all night, holding her and soothing her.
The house was filled with various baby care books he’d collected, all written with parenting knowledge.
Those hands that once held a gun now gently touched his daughter, afraid that his movements might leave marks.
Sometimes, Old Mrs. Brown couldn’t take it anymore. “She’s not a piece of tofu. She won’t break if you’re a little rough. You can’t get anything dirty if you handle her like that.”
“She’s not dirty. My Jasmine is the cleanest and prettiest, isn’t she?” Conrad’s voice was so soft it could practically melt water. It left Old Mrs. Brown speechless.
The child’s name was decided after much discussion, and in the end, it was Conrad who made the final choice.
Although he wanted to give the child every beautiful word in the world, he ultimately chose Jasmine.
Jasmine-God’s Gift.
When Jasmine was a child, she was as delicate as soft tofu-beautiful, but difficult to care for.
This time, Conrad didn’t have to worry about not being able to sleep-he found it hard to sleep even when he wanted to.
He worked no more than two hours a day before heading home. As soon as he heard the baby cry from the monitor, he immediately turned on the video, no matter where he was. He would watch first, no questions asked.
George often felt exhausted just watching him.
But at the same time, he also sighed in relief.
Because Conrad had finally found the motivation to live properly. He had shifted the entire focus of his life to this child.
That fragile, breathing-challenged child had, in the end, stubbornly rooted herself in Conrad’s life, just like her mother.
Conrad bathed Jasmine every day. From the beginning, when he was clumsy and unsure, to later, when he knew exactly what to do.
Jasmine was closest to him. Even though she wasn’t at an age to recognize people, she smiled as soon as she saw Conrad. Every time Conrad came home, he would disinfect first, always making sure to cuddle his daughter.
Andrew worried about how spoiled this little girl would be.
“My daughter, can have anything she wants.”
“If no man will spoil her, I’ll spoil her for life.”
“Right, Jasmine? Tomorrow, Daddy’s going to a meeting, want to come with me? Daddy can’t bear to be far from you.”
“Oh, you want to go? Come on, let’s go play upstairs.”
Sometimes, while looking at reports in the office, his daughter would be asleep on his chest, her soft little limbs spread out like an unburdened puppy.
Ford would put down his things, set down the disinfected bottle, and then step out of the office.
“How long had it been since Mr. Conrad mentioned Lillian? Some people, if you don’t bring them up, do you stop thinking about them?” Ford pushed his glasses up slightly. “It’s just that the deeper the love, the harder it is to forget.”
If it were that easy to remove Lillian from his heart, it would’ve been simple.
The longer it took, the stronger the attachment became. Not seeing, not hearing, not thinking about her-this would only make it harder to let go over time. Sooner or later, the longing would overflow like a flood.
Thankfully, thankfully, there was still Jasmine.
As long as this child was here, Conrad would protect her forever.