"Did you get an X-ray? What did the doctor say? Is the injury serious?" He felt it might be serious, given how swollen it was, but such matters were best left to the doctor’s judgnt.
Charlotte looked at Atlas Hallow. He had already taken off his suit, rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms that exuded a healthy sheen. She sat on the kitchen counter while he stood face to face with her; even when speaking, their breaths were nearly intertwined.
"I didn’t get an X-ray, it’s not too serious, just so dication will do." Charlotte bit her lip, pondering how to report this to him.
He must like children, right?
Yet when they first got married, he didn’t want them; at that ti, he would proactively take asures to prevent her from getting pregnant. But not long after, he ceased those habits. Recently, he hadn’t been doing that.
Charlotte didn’t know how to describe this feeling. It was tinged with sweetness and a bit of embarrassnt, so anticipation yet fear-filled. Watching Atlas seriously cooking beside her, she couldn’t help but feel her lips curve into a smile.
He would probably be an excellent father.
The man in front of her had a deeply outlined face, sharp and clear features, and an elegant physique. His solid muscles and erect bones were enough to move any woman’s heart.
He was such an outstanding man, and inside her, at this mont, was nurturing his child.
This was his flesh and blood, sharing the sa genes with him. Just thinking about this made Charlotte begin to slightly anticipate the arrival of this child.
Wanting to speak imdiately, yet as soon as she faced him, her throat and heart started beating heavily.
She rubbed her hands, appearing sowhat uneasy and anxious, wondering how to express it.
What should he say first?
Could she directly tell him, "Hi, Atlas Hallow, your wish has finally co true, I’m pregnant..."
Or should she slowly recount her experience at the hospital today? Tell him she had just found out herself?
This house is enormous, indeed a tad lonely for just two people—it felt right with three.
Not knowing whether it was because Atlas was slicing onions or her emotions were fluctuating up and down, her eyes appeared sowhat misty, turning everything before her slightly blurry.
Atlas Hallow skillfully diced the onion, placed a bit of butter in the frying pan, then added the diced onion to fry for a while, before adding fresh shrimp, clams, squid, and tomatoes, expertly flipping them. The stove alongside was cooking the pasta, which once softened in the water, was scooped directly into the pan to fry, with so spices added, drizzling sauce, finally stirring a few more tis, before serving it onto a white porcelain plate.
Instantly, the air was filled with a fragrant aroma...
A very delicious seafood pasta was presented before her.
Atlas Hallow stood in front of Charlotte, holding a fork to roll up the long noodles, feeding her.
"How does it taste?" Watching her cheeks puffed out with food, she really resembled a squirrel munching on pine nuts—utterly adorable.
It was really delicious, Atlas Hallow is simply a genius.
How did he guess she would enjoy this flavor now?
The pasta with many tomatoes and tomato sauce was slightly tangy, paired with fresh, bouncy shrimp—perfect beyond words.
Charlotte hadn’t expected Atlas Hallow’s culinary skills to be so good. She held the plate in her arms, took the fork from Atlas’s hand, and started eating voraciously, as if afraid soone might snatch it away.
This girl truly is protective of her food.
Atlas Hallow’s lips curved with a smile, speaking softly: "I’m not going to steal it from you, eat slowly."
Charlotte ate while muddling through her words, asking, "How can you cook? And so well?"
Atlas Hallow let down his sleeves, washed his hands, took a clean napkin to dry them before returning before Charlotte, pinching her little nose: "Did you really think I was born a spoiled young master?"
Wasn’t he?
At the Hallow Family, which servant wasn’t deathly afraid of him? How could they let him do household chores?
Seeing Charlotte’s puzzled expression, Atlas Hallow’s smile deepened. He reached out and placed a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, his voice deep and quite unlike the gentle tone earlier, carrying a hint of warning: "Charlotte, if next ti, you first call Ethan Baird to take you to the hospital, I’ll break your other foot and personally take you to see the doctor, understand?"
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