Jason brushed off the attempt at conversation and headed upstairs without a word.


    After a quick shower, Jason descended the stairs to find that Kristin was no longer in the living room,


    but her copy of The Strategies of Love remained on the coffee table.


    Rubbing his hair dry with a towel, he eyed the book for a moment before tossing the towel aside and


    picking it up. As he skimmed through the pages, his expression visibly changed.


    His mom must be losing her marbles.


    As he flipped through a few more pages, Kristin’s voice suddenly rang out from beside him, “I knew it.


    Deep down, you’re still hoping to reconcile with Estre. You agreed to a divorce as a strategic retreat,


    a ssic case of ying hard to get, right?”


    Startled by her sudden appearance, Jason quickly tossed the book back onto the table, replying


    indifferently, “Mom, you know you are not the sharpest tool in the shed. Maybe take it easy on this


    stuff.”


    Kristin retorted, “What did you just say? After all the running around I do for you…”


    She didn’t get to finish her sentence before Jason, hands back in his pockets, ascended the staircase


    once again. Once divorced, it was not that easy to go back.


    Watching his retreating figure, Kristin called after him, “Where do you think you’re going? The least you


    could do is say something, and make your position clear.”


    The sound of the door mming shut was Jason’s only response.


    Meanwhile, in the hospital ward.


    Autumn had just brought Isaac back from the hospital, and Bryce’s call came through


    Estre answered, cutting straight to the chase, “It’ste, don’t tell me you’re nning to


    Bryce replied, “Cut it out with the wild guesses. I’m just letting you know Jason suspects Isaac might be


    his son. He even asked me about it earlier today. Just handle it however


    you see fit.”


    “Alright, got it,” Estre responded before they exchanged a few more words and hung up.


    The next morning, Jason was still asleep when Kristin woke him. Frowning, he grumbled, “What is it,


    Mom? Why so early?”


    Without a word, Kristin pped him awake, “Estre’s still in the hospital. How can you sleep at a time


    like this?” She then added, “I’ve made some chicken soup for Estre. Get


    08:37


    up


    and take it to her.”


    Jasony in bed for a moment with his eyes closed before suddenly springing to his feet.


    Since he didn’t object, Kristin sighed with relief, “That’s more like it.”


    In truth, Jason had already visited the hospital the day hended, but Kristin was


    unaware.


    Soon after, Jason came downstairs, and Kristin hurriedly handed him two thermoses, “Hurry up and go,


    or else Estre might have finished her meal by the time you get


    Taking the soup his mother had prepared early in the morning, Jason drove to the hospital.


    there.”


    Half an hourter, when Jason pushed open the door to the same hospital room as the day before, he


    saw Estre limping over to prepare a bottle of milk for Isaac, who was gazing up at her with earnest


    eyes.


    When Jason got in, they both instinctively looked over, and Isaac immediately clung to Estre’s leg.


    Isaac seemed a bit wary of Jason, but his big eyes couldn’t help but reveal his curiosity as he stared at


    him.


    Surprised, Estre asked, “What brings you here so early?”


    Content bel0ngs to N?vel(D)r/a/ma.Org.


    “I brought the chicken soup my mom made for you,” Jason said casually, then turned to Isaac, “Didn’t


    the little guy go homest night?”


    “My mom brought him back in the middle of the night because he wouldn’t stop crying. She just went


    back,” Estre exined.


    As Estre finished speaking, Jason set down the breakfast he had brought and took bottle from her


    hand to check the milk’s temperature.


    Estre was taken aback by Jason’s familiarity with preparing baby form. Her surpris was met with a


    nonchnt nce from Jason, who then handed the well-mixed bottle to


    Isaac.


    Isaac, looking at the milk Jason offered, let go of Estre’s leg and gratefully epted the bottle,


    cooing a “Thank you, Sir.”


    Jason ruffled the boy’s hair and helped Estre to sit at the dining table.


    Grateful for the help, Estre watched Jason and said simply, “Thanks.”


    Jason didn’t respond but began toy out the breakfast in front of her. Estre could tell at a nce that


    the breakfast was Kristin’s handiwork; Estre had eaten Kristin’s cooking countless times since she


    was a child.


    At the sight of the spread on the dining table, Isaac’s eyes lit up, and he stopped drinking his milk.


    08:37


    As Jason noticed Isaac’s gaze, he watched the boy for a moment. Then Isaac set down his bottle and


    shed a grin that turned his eyes into slits. That smile softened Jason’s


    heart.


    Estre used to look at him just like that when she was a child, asking for treats up until


    she was five or six.


    Despite Estre’s insistence that Isaac was not his child, Jason still found himself wanting to linger a


    little longer.


    As Isaac stared at her with those sparkling eyes, Estre caved in, “Okay, okay, you can have soup


    instead of milk, and some food too.


    With that, she served Isaac some chicken soup and ced a few meatballs in his bowl.


    Seeing this, Jason took the bowl from Estre’s hands, saying, “You eat. I’ll feed him.”


    Isaac watched as Jason took the bowl, his eyes growing even brighter. He seemed to wonder, who


    exactly was this man who not only made his milk but was now about to feed him too?


    Isaac’s shining eyes watched as Jason twirled some pasta with fork and held them to his mouth.


    Without hesitation, Isaac opened wide and gobbled them down.


    Seeing that Isaac wasn’t shy around him anymore, Jason’s lips curved into a slight smile.


    Estre looked up from her own bowl, took in Jason’s faint smile, and couldn’t help but smile wryly


    herself.


    After Jason had fed Isaac a modest serving of chicken noodle soup, Isaac’s spirits visibly lifted. His tiny


    hand found its way to rest on Jason’s thigh, yfully touching him now and then. And Isaac frequently


    shed Jason bright, cheerful smiles.


    Noticing that Isaac was nearly finished with his small bowl, Jason turned to Estre a remarked, “Your


    boy’s got quite the appetite.”


    “Just takes after me.” Estre replied with a chuckle.


    As Jason offered Isaac another spoonful of the warm broth, Isaac gazed up at him with wide, earnest


    eyes and uttered, “Daddy.”