While Isabella spaced out, the conversation took a turn. Suddenly, Theodore said, "But Bella, if it's our child we're talking about, I'm willing to do my best to learn."
Based on Isabella's understanding of him, he most certainly wasn't just paying lip service. However, she was really tempted to ask him who would get custody of the child when their agreement came to an end a year later.
Isabella couldn't possibly have custody of their child. There was no question about that, considering her status and the Sinclair family's power in Solara.
With just one word from Theodore, she might not be able to meet her child even if they lived in the same city!
"Forget it," she said, forcing a light-hearted laugh. She added, "I'm not even mature enough myself. How could I be a mother?"
Theodore gazed at her deeply. Whenever he did so, she always felt like he was seeing right through her.
"It's alright if you aren't mature enough," he said, fixing his eyes on her. The usual sharpness in his gaze was taken over by a seriousness. "I can learn how to be a father, and you can learn how to be a mother. We'll do it together."
He reached out and picked up the bowl of oatmeal in front of Isabella that had cooled down slightly. Then, he got to his feet and headed to the kitchen. "I'll heat this up. Give me a moment."
Isabella remained seated as she watched him from behind. Her chest felt stuffy, as if something was weighing down on it.
She was well aware that Theodore never made empty promises. Nevertheless, the "one-year" time limit was like a ticking time bomb, a constant warning for her not to fall in love.
At this moment, she picked up the bottle of morning-after pills from the edge of the table, clenching so tightly onto it that the tips of her fingers turned pale.
A gentle beep came from the microwave in the kitchen. Not long after, Theodore returned with the bowl of oats that had been heated up. He also brought with him a small plate of cut mango.
"Here. You mentioned yesterday that you were craving this," Theodore said, pushing the plate of mango toward Isabella. Then, he picked a piece up with a fork and fed it to her.
Isabella opened her mouth and took the piece of mango. Though its sweetness spread across her palate, it could not vanquish the sorrow in her heart.
Just then, the phone in the living room rang out. She got up to answer the phone.
"Hello, who's calling?"
"Hi, is this Mrs. Sinclair? I'm a security guard from the main gate. There's a woman here right now, claiming to be your mother, so we'd just like to confirm it with you."
Isabella was taken aback. Her mother? Neither she nor Theodore had a mother. Could it be…
Just as she was running through the possibilities in her head, she overheard an ear-piercing female voice uttering insults on the other end of the call, albeit vaguely. As expected, who else could that be if not Margaret?


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