Chapter 1102:
Christina smiled and patted his head, soothing him. “No, I won’t leave you behind. I’ll stay with you at Cloudcrest Estate.” She couldn’t bear leaving him on his own for long.
“Really? You’re not tricking me, Chrissie?” Dylan looked at her with a hopeful glimmer.
“Of course not—why would I lie to you?” Christina answered, smiling.
“Then I’ll go with you, Chrissie,” Dylan said, beaming with childish trust.
At the Dawson estate, Christina folded Bethel into a warm embrace. “I missed you so much.”
After settling Dylan at Cloudcrest Estate and tucking him gently into sleep, Christina had slipped away quietly to see Bethel. With Dylan’s condition as it was, it would have been unwise to drag him along everywhere. Otherwise, she would have brought him straight here.
“You’ve been in Lorbridge for such a long time—I missed you too. I kept wishing for your return,” Bethel said, her voice thick with affection as she patted Christina’s back.
It had been far too long since she had last laid eyes on Christina. Night after night, worry gnawed at her—whether Christina was eating properly, whether she stayed warm enough in Lorbridge’s chill.
“I was caught up with certain matters. That’s why it took me so long to come back,” Christina explained as she eased Bethel down into a chair, her hands moving gently to knead Bethel’s shoulders.
“You’ve just returned. Have a seat and rest for a while,” Bethel urged.
“No. I’d rather do this for you,” Christina said with a soft smile, her fingers working with care.
“Ah, you, still as stubborn as ever,” Bethel said, chuckling.
“How was it in Lorbridge? Did you run into problems? Were you eating well and keeping yourself warm enough?” Bethel asked, her questions tumbling out, every word laced with concern.
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“Bethel, I was doing great,” Christina replied, her voice warm and touched. There was no feeling quite like being cared for so deeply. It was its own kind of happiness.
At Brendon’s place, Yolanda blurted, unable to keep the worry inside any longer, “Brendon, when are we going to have our wedding?”
They’d been back in Dorfield for quite a while now. In Lorbridge, Brendon had promised her a grand wedding once they returned, swearing he’d make her the happiest woman alive. Yet, after all this time, Brendon hadn’t made a move, and that silence gnawed at her.
“I’ve thought about it,” Brendon said, his tone gentle and coaxing. “Why don’t we wait until after you finish the upcoming fashion design competition? Then we can have a double celebration—for you to secure first place and for our wedding.”
A flare of irritation hit Yolanda—they could have held the wedding first, followed by the fashion design competition, still achieving a double celebration. But he insisted on waiting until after the competition. Was he waiting to see whether she’d win the championship? Was he using the contest to decide if she was worth the effort—if she could apprentice under Allison before agreeing to marry her? Had he started calculating pros and cons about their future together?
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