Chapter 168
As Kristin walked through the front door of her house, the sounds of laughter and playful banter filled the air.
She paused for a moment, her eyes widening in surprise as she spotted Summer and Milo in the living room.
“Mommy!” Summer cut through the chaos, a beam of joy on his face as he caught sight of Kristin.
Milo, on the other hand, seemed to shrink in on himself, his gaze dropping guiltily to the floor as he scooted closer to the couch for cover. Kristin recalled how Milo had once held a grudge against them, harsh words spilling from his lips, accusing them of all sorts of nonsense. Even at his young age, shame was a language he understood all too well.
“What’s going on with Milo?” Kristin whispered, curiosity lacing her tone.
Summer leaned in close, her voice barely a whisper. “Mommy, Milo’s daddy doesn’t want him anymore, so Daddy brought him home to play with me.”
Kristin’s heart skipped a beat. Caleb had abandoned Milo? She ruffled Summer’s hair affectionately and moved to squat beside Milo. “Well, you two have fun then. I will make you some yummy food. What would you like to eat, Milo?”
Milo looked up at Kristin with wide and uncertain eyes. Why was Summer’s mother so
kind?
“Can I have BBQ and cheesy baked pumpkin?” Milo asked, his voice hopeful as he sat cross–legged on the floor.
“You’ve got quite the taste! Eat whatever Kristin makes, kiddo,” Saying so, Rhett strolled into the room, having changed into more comfortable clothes. He scooped up Milo’s overalls and tossed them aside, teasingly claiming they were in the way.
Milo pouted. “Uncle Rhett, Summer is also in the way. Why don’t you pick him up?!
Rhett glanced between Summer and Milo. Though both were children, he had a soft spot
for Summer.
“Because he’s…” Rhett began./
“Because you’re wearing overalls, easy to lift,” Kristin interjected, saving Rhett from potentially wounding Milo’s feelings with a careless comment. After all, Milo’s father was far from exemplary.
“Kristin, do you know how to make BBQ?” Milo was tinged with a newfound fondness for Kristin.
“I do,” she replied warmly, tousling Milo’s hair before rising to head into the kitchen to start
dinner.
“From now on, you call her Auntle Kristin, because she’s my wife, Rhett said, playfully ruffling Milo as Kristin left the room. “Got it?”
Milo nodded obediently.
Rhett raised an eyebrow in approval and followed Kristin into the kitchen.
Mr. FitzGerald…” Kristin began, a hint of panic in her voice. Whenever Rhett tried to help in the kitchen, it usually resulted in chaos.
“Off the clock,” Rhett reminded her, leaning casually against the countertop.
“Why don’t you go play with the kids instead?” Kristin suggested, hoping to avoid any culinary disasters.
“Play with mud?” Rhett frowned in disdain.
Kristin couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the thought of the usually stoic CEO playing in the mud with the kids. She bit her lip to stifle the giggles, careful not to offend him.
“How many times do I wash the ribs?” Rhett asked, eager to lend a hand.
“Use disposable gloves,” Kristin replied, handing him a pair.
Rhett held out his hands expectantly. Kristin, blushing, helped him slip on the gloves.
As she watched Rhett carefully wash the ribs under her guidance, Kristin felt a warm sense of contentment. Yet, with this happiness came a growing fear, she dreaded the thought of how lost she’d feel if Rhett ever left her.
“Is this okay?” Rhett asked, looking up at her like a curious child.
Kristin nodded, her smile soft and tender. “Yes.”
“Start with cold water,” she instructed as they placed the ribs into the pot.
“I’ll cook for you next time,” Rhett said earnestly, surprising Kristin with his sudden interest in cooking.
Hertha would be lucky to marry such a man, Kristin thought, her heart sinking slightly at the thought.
“Kristin, about six years ago… can you be sure that it was James that night?” Rhett asked, his voice low and tense.
Kristin stiffened her fingers around the pot handle, nearly burning herself. “I… I’m not sure. I’ve forgotten.”
She was afraid and evasive. Any mention of that night sent Kristin into a spiral of distress, “Kristin, that night…” Rhett pressed, desperate to understand her perspective.
sudden yelp escaped Kristin as her finger brushed against the hot edge of the pot, her skin reddening Instantly. She recoiled in panic.
Kristin, Rhett reached out instinctively to inspect her burn.
Don’t touch mel” Kristin slapped his hand away, tears welling in her eyes as she
repeatedly murmured apologies. “I’m sorry…”
Before Rhett could respond, she turned to flee.
“Kristin, is it because James was the one who hurt you that night that you chose to work with me instead of him?” Rhett asked, his voice shaking with apprehension.
“Yes.” Kristin confirmed through tear–filled eyes. “I can’t escape the prison of my mind. I can’t forget the pain of that night, and so I can’t forgive James, nor can I bear the thought of him being near.”
The mere memory of that night brought waves of fear and revulsion that clung to her relentlessly.
“I can’t even bear the touch of another man.” Kristin trembled her fingers uncontrollably.
Rhett chilled his grip on Kristin’s wrist. If Summer was his son, then it meant that on that fateful night, due to an alcohol–induced mistake, he was the one who had entered the wrong room and inflicted that pain on Kristin.
For six years, he had allowed that wound to fester, his actions unknowingly magnifying
the hurt.
James had always thought he could tie Kristin to him with a baby, but he was blind to the scars he had left on her that night. His scheming had failed because deep down, Kristin was terrified of him.
“But what if the man from that night was me?” Rhett couldn’t bear the thought.
If Kristin ever discovered the truth, based on her fiery spirit, she would shun him completely and strike a deal with James instead.
Taking a deep breath, Rhett tried to appear nonchalant as he gently washed Kristin’s hand under the cold tap.
He had always considered himself level–headed, never one to panic or harbor regrets.
But now, he was filled with such remorse he felt like slapping himself.
Why had he left that morning six years ago without even checking who the other person was or reaching out to her to make amends…
Back then, he had convinced himself he’d been played, and his anger upon waking had clouded his judgment. He hadn’t wanted to know who she was.
But with each passing day, guilt consumed him.
When York suggested that the woman might have been Hertha, he had given the Haywood family significant concessions.
Rhett darkened his gaze and a chill settled over his demeanor.
If the woman that night had been Kristin, it meant Hertha had been deceiving him all along, impersonating someone else and lying to make him miss out on Kristin for so long.
Dammit.
“Does it hurt?” Rhett asked softly.
Kristin shook her head. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Mr. FitzGerald, you can go. I can manage on my own,” Kristin said, seeking solitude and signaling Rhett to leave the kitchen.
Rhett, feeling guilty, obediently walked away.
His heart was racing, his mind a tangled mess of hope and dread. He hoped that Summer was his son, yet he dreaded the possibility that he might be the one who had hurt Kristin that night.
