“I was just saying it casually. Of course, I’d love it if it were our child.”
Winifred Dawson’s face flushed red with embarrassment. “Let’s not talk about that. Tell me, why don’t you like other children?”
“Why would I like other kids? They’re not mine. Children are a hassle. My uncle’s kid used to come over all the time, barging into my room without permission and rummaging through my things. The moment I scolded him, he’d start crying. Annoying as hell.” Maybe that was why he had grown to dislike children.
“That kind of kid does sound unbearable. What happened after that? Do you still keep in touch?”
“Every time I yelled at him, he’d cry. Since he was already crying, I figured I might as well give him a beating to get all the tears out at once. So now my nephew is terrified of me-he doesn’t dare show his face around me. As for keeping in touch, no, we don’t.”
Now that Garrison Reeves stood where he did, he had his own way of doing things. Relatives were the ones who reached out to him, trying to curry favor. He never initiated contact.
When it came to sentiment, he barely had any for his own mother. Why would he care about these distant relatives?
“Not all children are like that…”
“I know.” Garrison pulled Winifred closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “That’s why I said I’d definitely love our child. With our genes, the kid would be beautiful and smart. After we get married next spring, I’ll take you to the hospital for a check-up so we can start trying. How does that sound?”
“So soon?”
“You’ve brought up kids so many times today-I thought you really wanted one.”
Having a child wasn’t something she was in a hurry for. Even though it was highly likely she and Garrison would have one someday, Winifred felt an inexplicable unease, as if that future would never come to pass.
“It’s not that urgent. Let’s talk about it later.” She dodged the subject.
Sleep had become a problem for Winifred. Before running into Leland Burns, she and Garrison had shared a room, and it had become a habit.
But now, Leland had warned her-for these hundred days, she wasn’t to get close to Garrison. Sharing a room, let alone a bed, was out of the question.
At home, Leland wouldn’t know what she did. He hadn’t planted any surveillance or bugs on her. She could go on as before, lying to him.
Yet, for some reason, Winifred found it harder to lie to Leland. It felt like he had eyes that saw through everything. If she lied, he would know.
Deep down, she didn’t dare deceive him.
“Garrison, can we sleep separately for a few days?” After a long hesitation, Winifred finally made up her mind. She clenched her teeth, staring at the floor as she spoke, too afraid to look at his face-afraid of seeing hurt in his eyes, afraid he would ask “why” when she had no answer.
So she prayed silently, desperately, that Garrison wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t say anything more.
As if heaven had heard her, things unfolded exactly as she hoped. Garrison was silent for a moment before saying, “Alright. Get some rest-you have work tomorrow.”
“Garrison, I want to go to work on my own. You don’t need to drive me.”
“Mm.”
Garrison went to Winifred’s room to retrieve his pajamas. Their rooms were close, just across the hall, visible the moment the door opened.
Winifred stepped inside first. Just as she was about to close the door, Garrison called out to her.
“Winifred…”
“Yeah?”
His lips moved softly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The moment the door shut, it felt like a wall had risen between them, dividing their worlds.
Garrison watched as Winifred closed the door. He could tell she was hiding something. Ever since their trip to Midlands, she had become secretive. There were so many things he wanted to ask her.
But it was clear she didn’t want to talk. If she didn’t, what was the point of pressing her?
Now he regretted taking her to Midlands. Winifred had her own job, her own life. The distance between them seemed to grow wider by the day. How long had it been since she last called him “Garrison”?
That kiss this morning-had it even been real?
Winifred tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. The harder she tried, the more awake her mind became.
By the time she finally drifted off, the alarm was already ringing. She had no idea how long she’d slept. Her head felt heavy, her body sluggish. When she got up, breakfast was on the table. In the empty chat log, Garrison had sent her one message:
-I’ve gone to work. Don’t forget to eat.
She picked at the food, her stomach in knots. Had she made a mistake?
As she stepped outside and pulled out her phone to call a ride, a car pulled up in front of her. It was Leland Burns’ driver.
The window rolled down. “Miss Dawson, Mr. Burns sent me to pick you up.”