Chapter 240: Long Night IV

Athena balled her fists at her sides, frustration coursing through her as she processed Nathaniel’s words.

She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but both his and Kate’s comments made her realize she had been neglecting her duties in a certain area.

Did they really think they couldn’t have comic books or painting materials? How could she not know that her children loved these things? And now Nathaniel was saying he thought she wouldn’t let him have them?

What ignited that thought pattern within him? When had she ever expressed that she didn’t want them to have fun?

Nathaniel, who had been staring at his father in confusion—baffled at how Ewan had also figured out his wants—turned to his mother, shrinking back immediately upon seeing her disapproving expression.

The poor boy felt the weight of his mother’s disappointment, convinced she was upset with him for admitting his feelings aloud. Cursing himself internally, he reluctantly stretched out the comic books to Sandro. "My words were false earlier. I don’t like comic books."

"Now, that’s my boy!" Antonio cheered, throwing a fist in the air as if he had just won a milestone victory.

His enthusiasm echoed through the room, but Athena felt nothing but annoyance as she wiped a hand across her brow, heart racing with anger and disbelief, especially as Ewan suddenly looked worn out again.

"What are you doing, Nathaniel? Do you think it’s a joke to mess with someone’s feelings?" She asked hotly, her voice rising a notch, no longer bothering to glare at Antonio.

"Eh..." Nathaniel stuttered, glancing at his sister, who was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite grasp. He felt lost and confused. He didn’t understand his mother either.

Had he truly misread her earlier countenance? He sighed, folding inward and withdrawing his outstretched hands. "I’m sorry." He quickly turned to Ewan and added, "I’m sorry, Mr. Ewan. Thank you for the gifts. I really like them..."

"You’re welcome, Nathaniel. But why did you turn them down? You know, if you don’t like them, you can let me—"

"I do like them. I just..." Nathaniel interrupted, his voice faltering momentarily, realizing his next words were unprepared.

"He’s just way above it," Antonio chimed in, causing Athena to raise her brows in sheer anger.

Was Antonio behind this absurd idea? Telling her children they couldn’t have fun because they were "above it"?

suddenly, speaking for the first time since the meeting began. He had been quietly observing

one’s children, to anticipate their true needs, was a crucial aspect of being a nurturing parent. Ewan had been able to do that, without even having a

comics to dull his brain, neither does

tightly, hugging the painting materials as if they

her children had developed. That because they

it just excitement, and nothing more. But she understood things more clearly now—Antonio really had a far reaching influence on her

have been blind to

spoke: "Comics and a painting

surprised glances, unsure how to react to the tense atmosphere that had suddenly filled

the children’s father. Yet he restrained himself, aware that it might only add fuel to the fire. He had brought this nonsense upon himself to start with, hence he chose silence, watching

especially as the latter scoffed

don’t think so, Aiden. The only games

out Antonio’s name, but everyone in the room

his mouth, nostrils flaring when he realized she was angry at him, and

my kids that I wouldn’t want them having

his

exhaled deeply. She needed to control herself however angry she was. Antonio was still her friend, she couldn’t bash him in public. "Nate and Kate, please spend some time with Mr. Ewan, alone. I’m sure he has some things to tell you. Antonio meet me

if her words were being taken with a pinch is salt, Athena

going after her?" Aiden asked Antonio, who was

he followed her out, without saying a word of reply to Aiden, not even

to go about speaking to their father, and Ewan was still preparing his words carefully, for he thought: "I can’t mess up this chance with

near the porch, a deeper,

Athena? Did I read the

gave him no response, her face a mask of stoicism, eyes

placing his hands on her shoulders, seeking to bridge the growing chasm. But she shrugged him off

quench whatever hope Ewan has of making a connection between you two, between the children? Why are you angry at me and not

them, Athena turned to face

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