Chapter 98: My dear wife age brings wisdom

Clara let out a long sigh and released Dominic’s hand.

Dominic immediately looked down at the hand she had let go of before pouting to himself.

[She let go... already?]

Without saying anything, he followed her to the bed. Clara sat down on the edge of the mattress, wearing the same unusually serious expression.

Dominic frowned.

[Does she even realize what she just asked? Who adopts a father when they’re already an adult?]

Clara, almost as if she could hear his thoughts, sighed once more.

"I know it sounds ridiculous," she admitted. "Maybe I’m asking for too much."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination.

"But if there’s even the slightest chance in the future... Dominic, I want you to help me."

Dominic blinked.

He had absolutely no idea what had brought this on.

Then something suddenly crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Ahem... did you visit your mother’s grave today?"

The question instantly pulled Clara from her thoughts.

She nodded.

"I did."

A faint smile appeared before disappearing just as quickly.

"And... I almost ended up arranging someone’s funeral."

Dominic froze.

"...Someone’s funeral?"

"Mm."

"But, unfortunately for me," Clara added with a disappointed sigh, "he survived."

Dominic’s eyebrows knitted together.

[He?]

[A man?]

[Who did she meet at the cemetery?]

[Was someone threatening her? Or... was it someone she knew?]

The more he thought about it, the darker his expression became.

Clara looked at him helplessly.

Just ask me already, Dom. Thinking isn’t going to solve anything.

She was about to explain everything herself when Dominic finally spoke.

"...Who was it?"

His voice had dropped several degrees.

It was so calm that it was almost frightening.

Clara blinked.

The darkness in his eyes made even her instinctively straighten her back.

Still, she had already decided she wouldn’t hide anything from him.

"...Alex."

The moment that name left her lips, Dominic’s expression turned even colder.

His jaw tightened.

[Why was he there?]

[Did he go there looking for her?]

[Did they... make up?]

The last thought struck him like a bolt of lightning.

[Is she going to leave me?]

His chest tightened.

He had deliberately stayed away from Diana’s grave that day because he wanted Clara to have some private time with her mother.

Now...

He regretted every second of that decision.

[I should’ve gone.]

[At least that idiot wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near my wife.]

Clara stared at him in confusion.

This wasn’t how things had happened in her previous life.

Back then, Dominic had visited her mother’s grave before she even arrived. It was after seeing him there that she had exploded in anger, accusing him of ruining her life and forbidding him from ever coming back on the one day she wanted to spend with her mother.

Yet today...

None of that had happened.

Am I... changing the story?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Dominic’s impatient voice.

"Why was he there?"

Clara looked up.

Before she could answer, Dominic suddenly grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her closer.

His usually composed face was filled with unease.

"C-Clara..." he said hesitantly.

His throat bobbed.

"D-Did you two..."

Before he could finish—

Pak!

A light slap landed on his cheek.

Dominic blinked.

"..."

He slowly turned back to look at her.

Clara folded her arms and glared.

"Stupid Dom."

She huffed.

"Didn’t you hear me? I said I almost arranged someone’s funeral."

Dominic blinked again.

"So why would you jump to that conclusion?"

He opened his mouth.

"I just—"

"No."

Clara raised a finger, cutting him off.

"You seriously need to stop imagining nonsense."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Because if you keep saying things that upset me..."

She pointed dramatically toward the bedroom door.

"...you can forget about sleeping here."

Dominic stiffened.

"You’ll be on the couch."

His eyes widened.

"And don’t even think about touching me."

"..."

"No hugs."

Dominic’s expression cracked.

"No cuddles."

He looked genuinely horrified.

"And absolutely no goodnight kisses."

Dominic gasped as though she’d sentenced him to life imprisonment.

[This is too cruel. The couch is one thing... but no cuddles? She’s gone too far.]

Clara knew she had gone too far with her threat. The truth was, if anyone would end up missing the cuddles, it would probably be her.

Still... seeing Dominic jump to such ridiculous conclusions made her want to smack him again.

How could he even think I’d rekindle anything with Alex?

She was already married.

In her previous life, she might have been foolish enough to chase someone who never deserved her.

But in this life...she had already decided. She would stay with Dominic until the day she drew her last breath.

With a huff, Clara stood up, intending to end the conversation. Before she could take a step, Dominic caught her wrist. With one smooth pull, she lost her balance and landed squarely on his lap.

"Dom!"

He tightened his arms around her waist as though afraid she’d run away again.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Dominic quietly said, "...I didn’t mean what I said earlier."

Clara looked at him. "I know."

He lowered his gaze. "It’s just..." he hesitated before admitting,

"The thought of Alex being around you makes me lose my common sense."

[Forget insecurity. I want to stuff him into a sack, tie it shut, and drop him into the middle of the ocean. Preferably where sharks are already waiting.]

Clara bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. She had already heard every outrageous thought running through his mind.

"Hmm?" she prompted.

Dominic sighed. "I just don’t like him."

Clara smiled before wrapping both arms around his neck.

"Dom..."

"What?"

"Do you know what I wanted to do the moment I saw Alex today?"

Dominic blinked. "What?"

"I almost killed him."

"..."

Dominic stared at her. The words had been spoken so calmly that they somehow sounded even more terrifying.

His eyebrows slowly rose. [...Should I be worried? Or proud?]

Clara noticed the strange look on his face and couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

"Don’t look at me like that."

"I’m trying to decide whether I should praise your self-control," Dominic replied seriously, "or thank the heaven you didn’t end up killing him."

Dominic remained unusually quiet. No matter how many times he replayed Clara’s words in his head, he still couldn’t understand what had changed so drastically.

Just a few months ago, she had trusted Alex without question.

Now... she looked as though she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

Still, Dominic wasn’t about to complain. If anything, he felt relieved.

Finally... she was seeing Alex for what he truly was.

A complete jerk.

Clara suddenly looked up at him and smiled. "Don’t worry."

"Hm?"

"I’m not planning to leave you." Dominic’s heart skipped a beat.

She continued with complete seriousness. "And even if I accidentally kill Alex one day..."

She patted his shoulder reassuringly. "...I’m sure you have enough connections to bail me out."

"..."

Dominic stared at her. [Isn’t she relying on the Sterling family a little too much?] The corner of his lips twitched.

[...She’d better. Because I’m not letting her leave me anytime soon.]

Hearing his thoughts, Clara couldn’t help laughing. She leaned forward and gently kissed him on the lips.

Dominic froze.

[One kiss.] His eyes lit up.

[Maybe today I’ll finally beat yesterday’s record.]

Just as he happily leaned in for another—Clara suddenly pulled away. "Oh no!"

Dominic blinked.

"What happened?"

Clara gasped dramatically. "I completely forgot!"

"..."

"Butler James told me he was making roasted chicken today!" She jumped off his lap so quickly that Dominic barely had time to react.

"I’m going downstairs!" She hurried toward the bedroom door before looking back. "Dom, go freshen up! We can’t let the food get cold."

Then she disappeared.

Click.

The room fell silent. Dominic remained sitting on the bed, lips still slightly puckered.

"..."

[My second kiss...] He stared mournfully at the closed door. [I just lost to a chicken.]

After a long sigh, he slowly stood up.

"I never imagined," he muttered to himself, "that one day my greatest romantic rival would be roasted poultry."

***

The next morning, the dining room of the Pearl Mansion was unusually peaceful.

Grace and Jonathan sat across from each other, enjoying their morning tea in comfortable silence.

After setting her cup down, Grace glanced at her husband.

"I heard Eric is getting married today." She deliberately watched his reaction.

Nothing.

Jonathan calmly took another sip of his tea as if she had just commented on the weather.

Grace frowned.

"That’s it?"

Jonathan looked up. "What?"

"Aren’t you going to say anything?" she asked suspiciously. "You usually have at least three opinions before breakfast."

Jonathan placed his teacup on the table. "What exactly am I supposed to say?"

Grace blinked. He shrugged.

"It’s not like that man was ever worthy of my daughter." He reached for another biscuit without the slightest change in expression.

"If anything..." He shook his head sympathetically.

"I should be praying for the poor girl who’s about to marry him."

Grace stared at him in disbelief.

"...You’re taking this surprisingly well."

Jonathan sighed dramatically. "My dear wife, age brings wisdom."

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Or trouble."

Jonathan smiled innocently. "That too."

Although he appeared perfectly calm on the outside, Jonathan was secretly smirking to himself.