His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

Chapter 61

Carlos walked toward the office, presumably to check on the children's daily physical records, and I followed him inside. Once the door closed behind us, the room fell into an awkward silence. Carlos busied himself with the records, flipping through them with his usual

calm efficiency. I watched him from the corner of my eye, waiting for him to say something.

He finally broke the silence, his voice as even and matter-of-fact as ever. "You should be careful when drinking alcohol," he said without looking up from the records. "Too much can affect your ability to take care of Cyrus."

I blinked, caught off guard. His comment immediately brought back memories of the night I had gotten embarrassingly drunk while staying at his house. I cringed inwardly at the thought. I could still remember how mortified I'd been the next morning, and now here he was, reminding me of it again.

"I'll keep that in mind," I mumbled, feeling the heat rise in

my cheeks.

For a moment, we both stood there in silence, the tension palpable. I wanted to change the subject, anything to steer away from my drunken embarrassment. Without thinking, I blurted out, "So, what about your fiancée?"

Carlos froze for just a fraction of a second before he resumed flipping through the files. His expression didn't change, but the atmosphere in the room shifted. "We're at work, Doris," he said, his tone cool and professional. "Let's stick to work-related topics."

I nodded, feeling like I had just walked straight into a wall. Clearly, that was a subject he wasn't willing to discuss.

in the office. I sighed and made my way back to the main room, where Vesta was waiting with a raised eyebrow. "What was

gleaming

stoic demeanor. "You should be careful when drinking alcohol, Doris. Too much will

"Oh, come on! He

Dead serious, too," I replied,

tension from

bar, just like she had promised. The place was lively, packed with people who were clearly here to unwind. The dim lighting, the rhythmic music, and the scent of alcohol in the air created an atmosphere of carefree indulgence. A group of male models strutted across the stage, their bodies moving with precision to

me playfully. "Look at them! My god, those guys

of my

smiles. It was

the bar, I thought I saw someone who looked exactly like Nathan. My heart skipped a beat. Was it really him? I squinted, trying to

my distraction.

I just saw Nathan," I said,

her head with a laugh. "You've got to be kidding. You're

Chapter 61

You're going to have a happy life

making his way toward us with that familiar, smooth stride. My mood, which had been light and carefree just moments ago, sank

air-the tension tightening