Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

Before I could react, the chubby kid bolted toward his dad like a little cannonball and crashed into Ajax's legs. 

“Dad!” he exclaimed, and Ajax instantly scooped him up, pressing a gentle kiss on his son’s chubby cheek, his eyes radiating warmth.

“I missed you!” Dylan hugged his dad tightly, nuzzling his neck.

When it came to affection, I could tell my place in his heart was far from being first. I had only just begun to treat him well, while he had spent far more time with his father. 

Then I remembered how he had started nursery school last year, where parents frequently attended events. The original Gwyneth had always deemed these gatherings tedious and never attended. Ajax had understood her well, always going alone to support their son.

This family, the three of us, had rarely been together. So rare that the blue moon would be ashamed to reveal itself.

This was also the first time Assistant Jean got to see me up close. I could almost see the surprise in his eyes—Dylan resembled me, but this face is another level of beauty, one that could easily rival popular actresses.

As I stood there, Assistant Jean probably began to question the rumors about how I had schemed my way into marrying Ajax. Could it not be possible that he pursued me simply because he was tempted by my beauty?

Hmm… perhaps not.

After a moment of cherishing the sweet scene with his son, Ajax finally looked at me. His expression was calm, devoid of warmth or enthusiasm as he said coldly, “Thanks for your hard work.”

Usually, you’d expect a married couple to exhibit more familiarity, yet whether it was the original Gwyneth or me, neither of us felt let down by his demeanor. The original Gwyneth had never loved him; she only loved the lifestyle he provided. And I, being a stranger in this world, had no reason to expect anything different.

“No problem,” I replied blandly.

Assistant Jean took the checked luggage tags from me and headed off to retrieve our bags. Afterward, our striking little family—two parents and a chubby child—plus one assistant made their way to the parking lot.

During the car ride to the hotel, I decided to remain quiet, content with listening to Dylan and his dad excitedly catching up. I really don’t have anything to say either so it works for me.

Once we were in the car, the conversation between me and Ajax was nearly non-existent, which suited me just fine. I leaned back and closed my eyes, ready to rest.

About half an hour later, we arrived at the hotel. Assistant Jean had already arranged a room and handed me the key card, barely concealing his curiosity. I could almost read his eyes asking ‘Why were we sleeping in separate rooms?’ ‘Why had I come to Charcot with our son?’ He’s like an opened book, it felt like he had stumbled into something significant.

I wasn’t surprised at Ajax’s decision to book a separate room for me. And I’m quite happy about his arrangement. I smiled as my thanks to Assistant Jean, I felt relieved not breathing the same air as him. Sharing a room with him would have been uncomfortable. 

We may be married in name, but the truth of it was that we were strangers. Clearly, Ajax didn’t want to see me either, which worked in my favor.

Meanwhile, Dylan looked conflicted. He understood that his parents slept in different rooms, but not enough to realize that it was unusual for a married couple. So, as we exited the elevator, he was in turmoil over whether he should sleep with Dad or Mom.

I grabbed my luggage from Assistant Jean and quickly found my room, swiping my key card to enter. We were staying in a five-star hotel that had been renovated just two years ago, so everything was brand new and pristine. The room was spacious, between 350 to 450 square feet, fully equipped with everything I could possibly need.

I didn’t bother checking in on Ajax and Dylan; instead, I put away my luggage and flopped onto the bed. As I turned my head, I caught sight of the view through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

It was a beautiful view, one that would likely be even more breathtaking at night.

Although I had visited Charcot before, through the original Gwyneth’s memories, this time was different; I wasn’t here for leisure. I was here to save a life.

According to the timeline in the novel, Ajax had only two days left to live.

In the book, Dylan would come down with a fever, and the housekeeper wouldn’t be able to reach the original Gwyneth. This would force her to call Ajax. Initially, he planned to return the next morning, but he ended up changing his flight to a late-night departure. That night, the weather turned unpredictable, bringing heavy rain. On his way to the airport, his car collided with a truck, resulting in both Ajax and his assistant tragically dying in the crash.

In theory, if he hadn’t rushed back, he probably wouldn’t have been in that accident at all. So, I questioned whether I had even needed to come to Charcot. But when I read that part of the novel, I sensed something sinister about his death; it felt like a setup. Yet, by the time I finished reading, the author had left those suspicions unaddressed. And as a reader, this has been hunting me in my sleep. I have a suspicion. 

Sometimes, a woman's intuition is spot-on.

Ajax’s untimely death raised questions for me. Why was his company so fragile? How could it go bankrupt within six months, leaving his widow and child with only two houses and a car? It defied logic.

With that in mind, I decided it was better to over prepare for the worst and be pleasantly surprised if things turned out better. So, I made my way to Charcot.

Taking risks.

But a new worry struck me: if there was indeed a trap waiting for Ajax, would my intervention create a butterfly effect? Had I inadvertently placed both the kid and myself in harm's way?

The thought sent a wave of anxiety crashing over me.

***

In the room next door, Ajax was showing off his skills as a father, effortlessly caring for his son just as he had since the boy was a baby. After washing Dylan's hands, he adeptly wiped his son’s face clean.

But Dylan seemed preoccupied as he asked, “Where’s Mom?”

Ajax hesitated for a brief moment before responding, “She’s next door.”

“Oh. Dad, I slept with Mom yesterday.” The chubby kid looked uncertain. “I want to sleep with Mom today too. Can you ask her for me?”

Ajax regarded his son thoughtfully before picking him up and placing him on the bed. “Weren’t you with your grandparents? Didn’t your mom go pick you up from there?”

Dylan nodded eagerly. “Yeah, Mom picked me up yesterday.”

“What about before yesterday? Had your mom visited you there?”

Ajax could see it was a stretch for a young child to recall all those details, and sure enough, he shook his head. “I don’t remember.”

While Ajax might not have known his wife intimately, after four years of marriage, he certainly had some understanding of her character.

For the moment, he chose to set aside the reasons for their marriage. They had come to a mutual agreement at the start: neither would meddle in the other's affairs, and this arrangement had been upheld for the entirety of their marriage.

It was clear that she was not fond of children. After the birth of their son, she seldom held him and often expressed her grievances about him to the nanny.

She had even told the nanny that her pregnancy and childbirth had ruined her figure, and no amount of effort would restore it to what it was before. Additionally, she firmly stated that she had no intention of having a second child.

It was evident that she truly disliked children. In the four years they had been married, Ajax had come to see that she held little love for either him or their child.

So, what had prompted her to bring their son along to visit him?

Was it a matter of financial struggles? No, that couldn't be the case. He arranged for his assistant to transfer a substantial amount of money to her account every month, more than enough for her to enjoy a lavish lifestyle. In the past four years, she had never once asked for a larger allowance.

Ajax typically preferred not to waste his thoughts on inconsequential matters or people. Though he found the situation puzzling, he decided not to dwell on it any longer. If there was a hidden motive behind her visit, she would eventually bring it up herself.