Hugo Quinn’s pupils sharply contracted when he saw that bouquet of roses. He was very sure that he didn’t buy her flowers today. Eleanor Hollis saw him and was taken aback, probably not expecting him to return so quickly. She raised a slight smile, "You’re back." Hugo didn’t say a word, just stared at her intently, finding the bouquet of roses exceptionally glaring. His fist slowly clenched; who had the guts to try and steal her away from him? Eleanor slowly approached, sat down beside him, and placed the roses next to him. "For you, let’s make up." A hint of shyness appeared on her face, and her hands holding the flowers were somewhat stiff. Hugo’s previously gloomy mood instantly dissipated with her words, so the flowers were for him? But giving a grown man roses, wouldn’t that feel a bit odd? He didn’t reach out to take them, just paused his gaze on Eleanor, who also felt a bit embarrassed. After all, it was her first time giving flowers to a man. If he didn’t accept them, she’d feel even more awkward. "I... I didn’t know what to give you, but it seems like lovers always give flowers." She awkwardly started to speak, realizing he was slow to accept them. Suddenly, she regretted her action, wanting to take the flowers back. Just then, Hugo reached out, held the roses in his arms, and quietly looked at them for a few seconds. "You have great taste in flowers." As soon as he said this, he wanted to slap himself; what exactly was he saying? Shouldn’t he be saying something romantic and tender to set the mood? What nonsense is "great taste in flowers"? Eleanor didn’t expect his response either and was momentarily stunned but still replied. "Not bad." Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱 Silence fell again, both of them racking their brains trying to break this awkwardness, yet both were too cautious to speak. This feeling was novel to Hugo; he had never been so cautious in the business world, where everyone called him a wolf, never letting prey escape once he spotted an opportunity. But in this contest with Eleanor, he felt like the prey, already trapped in this love. "I’m sorry about the other day, I... I once lost a child, so I’m a bit traumatized by pregnancy, and your wanting a child makes me anxious. My body was injured before, making pregnancy difficult, and I’m afraid I might never be able to have a child again. If that’s the case, would you still love me?" The doctor had previously said that Eleanor had a cold constitution, making it challenging to conceive if not properly cared for. Now, hearing that she had been injured during a previous pregnancy, his heart ached—so that was her concern. "I thought you didn’t want to have children with me. Eleanor, I should be the one apologizing. My thinking was too simplistic at the time. I didn’t realize how burdensome it was for you. I thought any child you gave birth to would be acceptable to me, and we’d get married then. I’d shield you from all difficulties. I wasn’t thinking long-term; I’m sorry." Eleanor swallowed hard, slowly lowering her eyes. "I really like Marcus. I can fully regard Marcus as my own child. Hugo, I’m scared. Actually, I lied to you. I haven’t taken that much medicine. The first time you mentioned wanting a child, I already had that thought. When I went to the hospital for exams, I was more nervous than you. I wanted a child but was afraid of not being pregnant. When I saw the results, I realized it might be challenging for me to conceive." As she spoke, her fists clenched tighter and tighter, her fingernails seemingly about to pierce her palm. Hugo put down the roses, still feeling something unusual. It was the first time someone had given him flowers; his entire body felt as if it were floating. "Hugo, did you hear me?" Eleanor had been talking for a long time without any reaction from Hugo, and her heart couldn’t help but clench. Hugo seemed to snap out of the shock that the roses had given him and blankly asked. Eleanor almost fainted from anger. She had finally mustered the courage to tell him all her worries, only for him to be daydreaming! Hugo suddenly hugged her, his eyes tender. "I’m in love with you as a person. Don’t have those worries in the future. As long as you’re still here, I’m satisfied. You have to trust my feelings. If we can have children in the future, that would be great. If not, I’ll devote all my love for a child to just you." Eleanor’s eyes reddened, and she nodded softly. After some tender moments, Hugo suddenly stood up and found a vase, carefully trimming the roses with scissors before putting them in. Seeing his serious expression, Eleanor felt even more embarrassed. In retrospect, this person had given her so many roses last time, and this small bouquet might seem laughable to him. "Just put it anywhere; no need to get a vase for it—it’ll wither soon anyway." She turned her head and said, with a blush on her cheeks. Hugo frowned and carefully pruned the thorns one by one, then poured water into the vase and even asked the housekeeper for some nutrients. It should last a long time, as long as there’s nutrient solution. He had just placed the roses by the windowsill when he heard a sound coming from afar. The vase on the windowsill was knocked down by a small ball, shattering all over the floor, with roses scattered everywhere and the green nutrient solution leaking all around. Marcus stood at the stairwell, looking somewhat sheepish. "Who put the vase there? I didn’t notice my ball flying over. Dad, why are you just standing there? Move back a bit." He approached and said, bending down to pick up the roses and casually tossing them into the trash can, a move executed with flair and style. "Be careful not to get hurt by the porcelain. I’ll clean this up." Marcus was entirely focused on cleaning up the shards and didn’t notice that someone’s face had turned as black as a pot bottom, with the entire living room seemingly shrouded in a layer of chill. Marcus shrank his neck; why did it feel a bit cold? He swept up the porcelain pieces with a broom into the dustpan and then also threw them into the trash can. "Dad, why are you still standing here?" He looked up at the man, innocently asking with wide-open eyes. The veins on Hugo’s forehead throbbed, and for a moment, he was too angry to say anything. This kid needs a spanking; he felt an urge to act. Eleanor also felt her scalp tingling. Didn’t Marcus notice the man’s mood being off?