The Bound Between Us

Chapter 1024

When Mr. Walker heard there were risks to the paternity test, he faltered. If this was really his child and something happened, he'd never forgive himself. Besides, Autumn wasn't young anymore-an amniocentesis would be rough on her.

Autumn hesitated too. She couldn't bear to lose the baby. Truth be told, she didn't really want the test; she just wanted to roll the dice, hoping Mr. Walker would believe her.

The doctor glanced between them, picking up on the tension. "Why don't you both go home and think it over? If you're set on the test, you can always wait until after the baby's born. At your age, this isn't easy. Moms-to-be go through a lot."

That last line cut straight to Mr. Walker's soft spot.

He squeezed Autumn's hand and said to the doctor, "Sorry to trouble you. We're not doing the test. Autumn, let's go home."

Autumn fixed her gaze on him. "Do you trust me now? If you still don't, I'll do it."

"I believe you," he said, his concern for her winning out in the end. "No more tests. We're going home."

Without another word, Mr. Walker led Autumn out. She finally exhaled, the tension leaving her as soon as the car door shut behind her.

Back at home, Autumn stayed on her guard. She put on a show of heartbreak- lying in bed upstairs, refusing to eat or drink, not saying a word. She gave Mr. Walker the silent treatment and played the victim so well, you'd forget she was the one at fault.

Mr. Walker brought the housekeeper back to look after her, ordering all sorts of nourishing soups and stews.

today onward, some things had to be let go. Seeing his wife so crushed, he

child was a miracle. His wife was his, and the child— regardless of biology-was his too. Even in the

the door, but didn't go in. When the housekeeper came out with the tray, he said, "Let her rest. Heat it up and bring it again when she wakes."

was taken care of,

The Grand

men. No one laid a hand on him, but he wasn't

had slept with

and now he was

sat stiffly

Sofa

darting between the

the door.

his skin crawl.

fear. He sat there, hands awkwardly clasped,

voices from outside. "Mr.

throat. Those footsteps sounded like the drumbeat

steel, radiating a natural authority that

shrank back, unable