The Surrogate He Discarded
Chapter 82: The Beach
So yesterday’s scandal hadn’t driven a wedge between Morgan and Kristine after all.
If anything, it had done the opposite.
Watching them now, Kristoff couldn’t detect even the slightest trace of awkwardness or resentment. They walked side by side with effortless ease, their fingers still laced together as though the storm of public gossip had never existed.
He found it difficult to comprehend.
After everything that had surfaced online, Kristine still looked at Morgan with unwavering affection. There wasn’t a hint of doubt in her eyes, only complete trust and absolute faith in the man beside her.
Her love for him was... extraordinary, Kristoff thought.
His gaze shifted.
A few meters away, Isobel lowered herself onto the soft white sand with the baby nestled safely in her arms.
Though he could not see her face, she should be smiling as gentle waves rolled in, cool seawater washing over her feet before splashing lightly against the baby’s tiny legs. Instead of crying, the little one let out a delighted giggles, and Isobel laughed with her.
He couldn’t hear the sound, but he could see the movement of their heads through the scope.
Kristoff couldn’t help but wonder.
If he were the one at the center of a scandal, would Isobel choose to believe him the way Kristine believed Morgan?
Would she defend him without question? Stand beside him when the whole world doubted him?
A faint smile touched his lips.
For some reason, he believed she would. The realization caught him off guard.
His thoughts had wandered to Isobel, not Charlotte.
It took considerable effort, but he forced himself to push that though from his mind.
On the beach, Isobel rose and carefully handed the baby to Kristine while Morgan took the other twin into his arms. The nanny carrying the tote bag stepped forward and passed Isobel a camera.
As though sensing she was being watched, Isobel suddenly lifted her head.
Her eyes turned in his direction.
Through the telescope, every detail came into sharp focus. The black swimsuit hugged her figure, its dark color accentuating the creamy fairness of her skin. The softness that had once lingered around her waist was gone, leaving behind graceful curves, while motherhood had made her breasts fuller, lending her an effortless femininity she hadn’t possessed before.
She had become even more beautiful.
The beach was far enough from the villa that it was impossible for her to see him, much less recognize him.
Yet her gaze lingered in his direction for several long seconds before she finally looked away and began taking pictures of the family.
After snapping a few photographs, she returned to Morgan and Kristine’s side.
Kristine slipped an arm around Isobel’s, drawing her close with easy affection.
There was no trace of resentment or jealousy in Kristine’s eyes as she looked at Isobel—only warmth, trust, and the quiet bond of someone who had long since accepted her into the family.
Kristoff let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe Morgan’s feelings for Isobel weren’t what he had feared.
But was it really that simple?
Morgan had always been impossible to read. What if he was merely hiding his feelings because Kristine was there?
And what if Isobel... had fallen for him?
The thought tightened something inside his chest.
She had always longed to be loved. She gave her whole heart to anyone who made her feel seen, cherished, and important. Kristoff knew that better than anyone because, once upon a time, she had loved him with that same unwavering devotion.
The unfamiliar ache returned, sharper than before.
Through the telescope, he watched Morgan hand one of the twins to Isobel. It had to be Kit, judging by the little blue swimming trunks on him.
As the baby passed from one pair of arms to another, Morgan’s fingers brushed against Isobel’s.
It was an ordinary touch.
A fleeting one.
Yet, through the magnified lens, it looked far more intimate than it probably was.
Without realizing it, Kristoff’s expression darkened.
The relief he’d felt moments ago evaporated, swallowed by a fresh wave of doubt and jealousy.
Kristoff continued to watch as Isobel had set the baby down on a small blanket spread across the sand. The little boy squealed happily as tiny waves lapped at his feet, and Isobel laughed, her smile bright and utterly unguarded. There was something effortlessly genuine about her. She never seemed to pretend to be someone she wasn’t.
Unconsciously, Kristoff smiled too.
His gaze drifted back to the couple who continued to stroll along the shoreline. They seemed to be still like the lovers they were back in college and not like married couple with two kids.
He knew that trust like that didn’t appear overnight.
It wasn’t built with extravagant gifts or sweet promises. It was forged through countless ordinary days—through honesty, patience, and the quiet certainty that the person beside you would never willingly hurt you.
No wonder Kristine had never wavered. Morgan had given her every reason to believe in him. Every promise he made, he had fought to keep. Every sacrifice had only deepened her trust.
Kristoff couldn’t help but wonder if he had inspired the same unwavering faith in Charlotte.
He should have, right?
He had gone against his own parents for her. He had argued, resisted, and endured years of pressure because he had chosen Charlotte over everything else.
Yes, having a child with Isobel had wounded Charlotte more deeply than he had ever intended. But in his mind, it had never been an act of betrayal. It had been the only path left open to them. Without an heir—and with Charlotte unable to conceive—his parents would never accept her into the family.
He had convinced himself that every painful compromise was made for their future.
Yet as his gaze drifted back to Isobel, an unsettling thought crept into his mind.
He remembered the way Isobel looked at him. It was the same way Kristine looked at Morgan. He knew Isobel had fallen for him. No matter how much she tried to hide it, she wore her emotion so plainly on her face.
...
Isobel had set baby Kit down on a small blanket spread across the sand. The little boy squealed happily as tiny waves lapped at his feet, and Isobel laughed, her smile bright and utterly unguarded. There was something effortlessly genuine about her. She never seemed to pretend to be someone she wasn’t.
Without realizing it, Kristoff smiled too.
For the first time that morning, the lingering irritation from the helicopter noise earlier had completely disappeared.
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