The unexpected question forced Flora to think for a while. She had never considered this issue before, but if she was forced to answer, she would seriously consider it to reply to him.
"I did, once. I used to wonder why other children had fathers while I didn't...especially when I was teased by others. But later, it didn't matter anymore, I have two adorable kids, I have my own happiness."
Those who find their own happiness won't dwell on the past.
Matthew laughed. It was a bitter laugh, filled with years of suppressed emotions.
"Therein lies your uniqueness. There are so many women who could sell their children for money..." He paused for a moment: "Just like my mother... As a child, I was just a lad living at the bottom of society, a vagrant at the roadside. Then my foster father took me in. And then my mother came into the picture..."
When she made her appearance, young Matthew thought he had finally received the motherly love he had long yearned for. Little did he expect her to reciprocate his faith with a transaction.
What she needed was not his filial affection, but a son, a pawn, which could help her gain as much money as possible.
Flora silently hugged this man from behind, solitary and pitiable. Though he was a grown man, well past his thirties, she felt as though she was looking at a grimy-faced young Matthew.
"You're just an exception. Mothers who love their children... are just exceptions..."
He had lived too long in a world where people looked at each other through the lens of profit, a world of deception and trickery. There was no such thing as affection.
But Flora wasn't like that. Her life might not be materially abundant, but her world was brimming with sunshine. It seemed no one could take away the light of love that shone within her.
"Don't say that. My mother was abandoned by my father when she was fifteen, just fifteen, pregnant, and she insisted on having me, even in the face of opposition. Then, with her own two hands, she raised me until I was grown... So the real exception is your mother. You have to trust me, you have to believe that there's still much good in this world, and there is no love as sacred as a mother's love."
"Flora..." Matthew's voice sounded a little dreamy: "You really are a little sun, warming my heart."
Flora chuckled through her tears: "Are you drunk?"
Matthew laughed out loud.
"I guess so. I'm going to the restroom for a bit."
As he got up from his chair, a familiar figure entered the bar and was greeted by the hostess.
"Hello... It's been a while since your last visit. Come in."
Following that, a voice that Flora could never forget, the voice of her former fiancé, resonated in the air.
"I had some free time so I dropped by..." He chuckled: "Why is it so deserted today?"
Flora bowed her head in thought for a moment, then hurriedly ran to a hidden corner, ducking behind a decorative plant. She needed to stay out of Patrick's sight.
Matthew went to the restroom to splash water on his face, then staggered out. For some reason, he felt even more light-headed after washing his face than before.
Leaning against the wall for support, he stumbled out, only to fall flat on his face, right in front of Patrick.
Patrick grimaced. He had just stepped into the bar, and before he could take a sip, a drunken ghost fell in front of him. It seemed today wasn't his day for a drink.
"It's okay... I'll call his fiancée to pick him up."
After Patrick had helped the man outside, Flora emerged from behind the plant. She sighed heavily. Even now, she didn't have the courage to face Patrick, all because she had done too much wrong by him.
The other man had someone else to worry about him now. She didn't need to do anything more. She had to hail a taxi home.
"Charlie, why aren't you asleep yet?" She furrowed her brows at her son.
Charlie sat alone on the chair, his head bowed in deep thought as if grappling with some grave matter. As his mother entered, the little boy promptly asked an unexpected question: "Mom, what if one day... we're not by your side anymore?"
Had the question come from Paul, Flora would have treated it as the usual curiosity of a child. But Charlie... her son never spoke without meaning.
The young boy had matured far beyond his peers, rarely asking questions typical of children, lacking the excessive curiosity about the world around them.
"Why are you asking that all of a sudden? Did... did something happen?"
The boy shook his head: "No, I just have to write an essay."
Although he claimed it was for an essay, the issue still struck terror into Flora's heart. She clutched her son tightly, her voice trembling.
"Don't scare me... don't scare me... I can't lose you... If I lose you, I wouldn't be able to go on."
Her children were her flesh and blood, her reason for living. To lose her purpose in life, to live without it, was no different from being dead. She could not fathom waking up one day to find her little ones no longer by her side.
A night passed. As the morning sun brought the first rays of light into the hotel room, Matthew's bleary eyes fluttered open. His head pounded like a hammer, the aftermath of a night of drinking. He sat up, taking in the unfamiliar hotel room, and hastily tried to get out of bed.
"Matthew, are you up already? Don't rush, you just sobered up..." Selena emerged from the bathroom, casually pouring a glass of water and offering it to him.
He couldn't remember why he was there. His last memory was of Flora appearing at the bar, then everything turned into a blank. Why was it that Flora had come to fetch him, but he had spent the night in a hotel with Selena?
His brows knitted together as he asked: "Why am I here with you?"
"What do you mean? We're about to get married, looking after you is my responsibility..." Selena recalled: "Last night you drank yourself into oblivion, Patrick happened to come by and called me to take you home."
Alone? The sight of Flora's worried face remained lodged in Matthew's head, almost like a hallucination. Could she really not understand his feelings?
Selena sat down on the bed, taking his hand firmly: "When will you have time to choose our engagement ring and wedding dress? My father keeps urging..."
This talk of engagement left Matthew feeling so frustrated he almost swore out loud.
"Get the wedding company to help you, or you choose them yourself." he shrugged: "I've told you, don't bother me with these trivial things."
But all the other women had their fiancés accompanying them... Selena didn't dare voice her thoughts. More than anyone, she knew this man was with her not out of love, but because they were compatible.
He had also said that he could give her everything, wealth, status, fame, but not love. Now, he reiterated.
"I can give you anything, except love. It's up to you. If you can accept it, we'll marry. If not, we'll break up."
"Break up?" Selena clung to his arm. She didn't want to break up, absolutely not. Once broken up, where could she find another good man like this?
"Can we not break up... You... you love me..." She sobbed as she held onto his hand.
At the end of his patience, he flung his arm slightly, causing Selena to collapse onto the bed. Suddenly, she clutched her lower abdomen, her cries of pain ceaseless.
"There's nothing to be overly concerned about. She's recently become pregnant and has not been eating or resting properly, so her health isn't at its best. All she needs is adequate rest and a balanced diet." the doctor reassured him, wearing a genial smile.
The doctor's words seemed to pass in one ear and out the other; the only thing that truly lingered in his mind was the phrase "is pregnant".
So Selena was carrying his child. Only now did he notice the slight swell of her belly, an observation he had previously missed and was completely unaware of.
"How's Paul's health?"
"The prognosis is quite bleak." the doctor confessed, shaking his head and sighing: "Medication is only a temporary solution, only treating the symptoms but not the root cause. He has a bone marrow disease and we must quickly find a suitable donor to have a chance..."
Matthew nodded. As always, the mention of Paul's health weighed heavily on his heart.
"Is the little one crying?"
The doctor shook his head: "No, she's a very well-behaved child. But, no matter how well-behaved or adorable she is, she's not your flesh and blood."
His flesh and blood was the embryo growing day by day in Selena's belly.
He nodded: "Arrange for her to have proper care. Don't let anything happen to her."
Leaving Selena's sickroom, his mood was heavy as he trudged along the hospital corridor. When he finally looked up, Paul's room was already in front of him.
Through the glass window, he saw the child with one arm hooked to a blood transfusion line, the other clutching a small doll. Seeing Matthew, the child gifted him a sweet smile.
"How are you feeling today, my dear?"
"I'm fine." the child grinned: "They took a bit of blood, poked something into my bone marrow, and then I needed a blood transfusion, but I didn't cry at all. But, daddy, am I very sick?"
The sympathy-filled gazes of the nurses and doctors whenever they looked at the child made her think she had a terminal disease, that her death was near.
"There's no such thing, I'll definitely cure you." Matthew affirmed, nodding fervently as if to convince both the child and himself.
The child nodded back and continued: "Then, daddy, can you promise me one more thing? My mom cries a lot. Charlie said if she knew I was sick, she would flood the hospital with her tears. So, don't tell her, okay?"
Matthew nodded, agreeing with his child. In his mind appeared the grim face of her elder brother. That little rascal was good at keeping secrets, if it hadn't been for the child's inadvertent revelation, he wouldn't have known the boy was aware of the situation.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. Upon inspection, the screen displayed "Brian Charles". His brows furrowed subconsciously as he pondered the reasons for this call at such an hour.
"Daddy Matthew, what's wrong?"
He shook his head, slipped the phone back into his pocket, and smiled at the child: "Nothing, let's go home."