Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 151 - Chapitre 160

Brandon We stayed up till midnight like a family chatting, making jokes, laughing—until Leona fell asleep. Before closing her eyes, she said goodnight to both of us, and while we couldn't kiss her, we blew kisses. She blew us one too, and within minutes she fell asleep. I pulled up her blanket to keep her warm while Salma watched me quietly. She had been watching me throughout the evening and I sensed that she had something she wanted to tell me. Or she was quietly assessing me to see if I was suitable for Leona. We watched Leona sleep for a few minutes until she was deep asleep. When she began snoring softly, I turned to Salma, “Hey.” I was nervous. “Can we talk?” she asked softly. “Of course,” I said, standing up from my chair, “we're good, right?” She did not answer my question. She left Leona’s room and I followed her quietly, doing my best not to wake up the little girl on the bed. Shutting the door softly behind me, I turned to face Salma. The expression on her face was se

Salma“His public image?” “As a conservative politician it would not have been a good look if he had a daughter who got pregnant out of wedlock,” I explained. James looked at me, his eyes full of pity. “I’m so sorry, Salma,” he said, his voice reflecting his sincerity, “I had no idea Senator Schaumer would try to do such a thing to you.” I shrugged, “The world seems to think he is a saint.” “So those things about him in that article?” “You’ve read it?” I asked, a little surprised that he would have heard about it at all. “Yes,” came his response, “I… if they are true, I hope the world gets to find out the truth, and he gets to serve his time in jail.” “I hope so too,” came my response. He spread his arms, inviting me into a warm hug that I very much needed. I remained in his arms until I heard Brandon’s voice, “Salma? Dad?” James let go of me and turned to look at his son, “You idiot,” he said to Brandon, shaking his head, and then walked away. Brandon watched his father’s

Salma “Did you know about your mother's estate?” Josephine asked me as I finished reading the article. I put my phone away and shook my head. “I had no idea,” I answered with a shrug, “I mean… I knew my mother was rich, but a hundred million dollars rich?”“Your grandma has a lot of money,” Josephine said, “it shouldn't be that surprising.” I furrowed my brows, “Where's Rita?” She usually came to the hospital with Josephine, “she's a little tired,” she replied, “I told her to stay a little longer in the hotel.” I straightened my position in my chair, “Is she okay?” Josephine smiled, “She's fine. She's just tired.” “I should give her a call,” I said, standing up to leave the room but as I did, Dr. Hans entered the room. “When I came earlier on my rounds you were still asleep,” Dr. Hans commented. “Is there an update on the surgery?” I asked. He smiled which meant it was good news this time. “Leona has responded very well to the antibiotics,” he began. “Her vitals have remain

Brandon I felt like a two-timing whore but that could not be helped. I had to be here by Elaine’s side because the baby needed me and I also wanted to be by Leona’s side because she needed me too. I wanted to tell Salma where I was and why I had to leave so early but I was afraid she would not understand until she mentioned that she wanted to apologise to Elaine. That had definitely surprised me. After she ended the call, I returned to Elaine’s room to find her texting on her phone. She looked happy, almost as if she were talking to a lover. “I need to leave,” I said to her dryly. The danger was past and there was no need for me to babysit her here. She looked up from her phone and pouted, clearly not happy with my decision to leave. “Can’t you stay for the baby?” she asked. Hearing her say that left a bad taste in my mouth. “I have to attend to something in the office,” I told her. “If anything urgent comes up, you can text me.” As I was about to leave her room, she asked,

Salma“So it was Helen who loved Protea flowers?” I asked the florist. ‘Yes,” he replied. “Did you know if my mother had any special preference when it came to flowers?” I asked. He shook his head, “She only ever came here to buy protea flowers,” he said. “And she would come with just me?” I asked him. He smiled before responding, “At first she would come alone. Then she started to bring a young man along with her, then she became pregnant and after that she would only came here with you.” I had no memories of this. I looked around the shop, and it felt comforting to know that I was standing in a place where she once stood. I faced the florist again, “I was getting the flowers for her,” I said, “I thought proteas were her favourite.” “I’m sure she grew to love them,” the florist said, “and I could tell that her friend meant a lot to her.” “Do you remember the last time you saw her?” I asked the florist. He squinted as he racked his brain for an answer. Then he said, “It was a