CHAPTER 304: DO YOU REALLY HATE ME THAT MUCH?

Oliver scoffed bitterly. "Is that a complaint? If you want, I’ll apologize publicly. I’ll explain every mistake I made back then. I can do it right now."

Margaret cut in before he could continue, "There is no need for that. Nathan had already held the press conference. He said everything that needed to be said. And both Anne and Nathan made the choice not to drag their past into the spotlight. You should be grateful for that."

She stepped closer, tilting her head to the side. "Instead, you want to confess now. Are you trying to make things difficult for Nathan? Don’t say anything more. Don’t risk making people think Nathan lied to protect you."

Oliver’s brows drew together, hurt flashing across his face.

"Margaret, could you at least be a little kind? Look at me. I nearly lost my life. I’m still lying in a hospital bed, and you have the heart to be harsh with me. Do you really hate me that much?"

Margaret faltered. The truth was... she had hated him so deeply. She had avoided him for over twenty years, refused to speak his name, turned her back on every trace of him. But the moment she had seen him shield their daughter from a knife without thinking, something in her had shifted.

She wasn’t sure if it was forgiveness, but the sharp edge of her anger had worn down. The hatred she had carried for years had faded. Yet, something within her still refused to soften—perhaps it was pride.

She turned her head, lifting her chin as she looked away.

"I haven’t said anything wrong. I’m just stating facts. Why are you getting so emotional about it?"

Oliver let out a long, weary sigh. He knew he couldn’t win with her. Margaret was like stone when she made up her mind.

"Alright," he said, giving in. "I won’t do anything that could damage Nathan’s reputation. I promise."

He paused, looking at her. "But I need to say this—I’m sorry. Truly. I know I can’t undo what I did, but... if there is even a part of you that can stop hating me, please forgive me."

That was all he could say. Nathan and Anne had already let go of the past and embraced him again, but it was Margaret’s forgiveness he still longed for.

Margaret was speechless as she met his sincere gaze. She wasn’t angry anymore. The resentment, the sharp sting of betrayal, had faded already. Her old wounds had scarred over. But forgiveness? That was something else.

She gave a small shrug. "I can’t forgive you. Not yet."

She didn’t mean to hurt him, but she wanted to be honest.

"You wounded me deeply, Oliver. The damage between us didn’t happen in a day, and it won’t disappear easily. But I’m not holding onto it anymore. I’ve spent twenty years in sorrow and self-blame, drowning in what-ifs and regrets. I’m done living like that."

As she thought about Anne, a small smile surfaced on her lips.

"My daughter is back. She has taken over what’s her birthright. That’s all I ever wanted. I have peace now. Maybe someday, the distance between us will shrink. Maybe I will forgive you, eventually. Who knows? But right now... I’m simply choosing to live."

Her expression softened a bit this time when she looked back at him. "Take care of yourself. Get better."

Margaret turned and walked out, her posture graceful, her head held high.

"Maybe someday," Oliver murmured hopefully. It was not over yet.

Inside Augustine’s car...

"Are you hungry?" Augustine asked, one hand on the wheel, navigating the car through the busy road.

"Yes," Anne said. "I want something spicy. Crunchy."

He glanced over, catching her animated expression, and a soft smile curved his lips. "Alright. I’ll call the housekeeper and have her make something spicy."

"How about we go out instead?" she asked with hope.

He considered it. "We could... but outside food might not be the best for you right now. You need healthy meals—and home-cooked is better."

Anne let out a quiet sigh, pouting slightly. "Fine," she said, giving in. "We’ll go home."

He caught the disappointment in her voice. As he glanced at her, he saw that little pout, and it amused him. He chuckled, making a mental note—he’d find a way to make it up to her.

The car pulled up in front of Augustine’s home. He stepped out and walked around to her side, opening the door.

"Thanks," Anne stepped out.

Before she could take a step, Augustine swept her off her feet, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

She squealed, laughing. "What are you doing? I can walk, you know."

"I know. But I want to carry you."

He walked into the house, holding her close.

Anne’s smile lingered on her face as she rested her head against his shoulder. Looking up at him, she caught sight of his faint smile that made her heart flutter.

His usual cool, composed expression softened with that smile. He looked even more attractive.

Anne was drawn to him. She kept staring at him as if entranced by his charm. She wanted nothing more than to pull him down and kiss that rare smile right off his lips.

"Sir, Madam, you have arrived," the housekeeper greeted with a bright smile, but there was a teasing glint in her eyes.

Anne’s head snapped toward the voice, caught off guard. The moment she saw the amused expression on the woman’s face, her cheeks flushed scarlet. Embarrassed, she buried her face into Augustine’s shoulder.

"I’m dizzy," she murmured, trying to act as if she were sick. "Take me to the room fast."

Augustine lowered his gaze at her, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Dizzy? You seemed perfectly fine a minute ago."

Anne resisted the urge to groan. ’This man is going to ruin me,’ she thought, cursing him silently.

He was doing nothing to save her pride in front of the housekeeper, who was still very much standing there, watching, smiling like she knew everything.

"Prepare something spicy, but make it healthy," Augustine ordered, shifting his attention to the housekeeper.

"Yes, sir," she replied with a knowing nod. "Dinner will be ready soon."

That smile of hers was still there. It made Anne want to melt into the floor.

"I said I’m dizzy," Anne repeated, more insistently this time, pouting harder.

Augustine glanced down at her again, pretending to study her face with concern. "Should I call the doctor?" he asked, though the glimmer in his eyes completely betrayed his mock seriousness.

Anne caught it instantly, and it irritated her. "Just get me to the room," she hissed under her breath, "and I’ll tell you what to do next."

That changed his expression entirely.

He smirked, voice dipping into a playful drawl. "Yes, ma’am. Your wish is my command."

He carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom. He nudged the door shut with his foot.

The housekeeper chuckled to herself as she walked into the kitchen. "They are so much in love. Can’t hide anything."

Inside the bedroom...

Augustine laid Anne gently onto the bed, his eyes still gleaming with mischief. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in, his arms braced on either side of her, trapping her beneath him with that familiar, cocky tilt to his lips.

"Upset?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Anne pressed her hands against his chest. "It was embarrassing. The housekeeper was smiling."

"Smiling?" he echoed, clearly amused. He tilted her chin up with two fingers. "So what should I do to make it up to you?"

Her heart fluttered at the closeness, at the deep, rich sound of his voice. But she wouldn’t give in to him yet. Twisting her mouth into a pout, she muttered, "Nothing. You don’t get to make up for this."

She shoved him a little away and rolled to her side, facing her back to him. But Augustine wasn’t backing down so easily.

He slid in beside her, one arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. His breath brushed her neck as he spoke.

"How about I order something sweet to eat? Ice cream, maybe? Chocolate fudge, that fancy vanilla you like?"

Anne’s stomach betrayed her with a tiny growl, and her mouth instantly watered at the thought, imagining the cold, creamy sweetness. She licked her lips, tempted. But she couldn’t give in too fast.

She turned her head slightly and glared at him over her shoulder. "You think ice cream will fix everything?"

"Of course not," he said smoothly, his fingers trailing up her arm teasingly. "Tell me what will. I’ll do it. Just say the word."

His lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Tell me what you want," he whispered, "and I’ll make it happen."

A shiver rolled through her, and she tried to slide away. But Augustine tightened his hold, pressing against her, refusing to let her retreat. His hand slipped across her slightly protruding belly.

In a blink, he was on top, caging her in with his arms braced on either side of her head. "Where do you think you are going?"

Anne’s body reacted instantly, a pulse of heat rushing through her. No matter how many times they had sex, no matter how familiar his touch had become, he still had the power to completely undo her. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, maybe it was just him—his voice, his closeness, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

"Where would I even run to?" she whispered, slipping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Even if I tried, every road would still lead me back to you."

That made him smile.

"Is that so?" he murmured with affection.

She nodded, brushing her lips against his jaw. "You are the only one in my heart. I don’t stand a chance against you. I try to be mad, but you always make me surrender."

"So, I’ve won again." He traced his finger slowly down her cheek, stopping just beside her mouth. "But I still upset you. Which means I owe you. Tell me, how can I satisfy you?"

He leaned down and whispered something in her ear.

Anne flushed instantly. Heat bloomed across her skin. "The housekeeper is still outside. What if she knocks?"

"Let her knock," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. "She can wait. Just keep your voice low."

With that, he kissed her, his hand already sliding beneath the hem of her dress. Anne arched into him, already lost, knowing full well she wouldn’t be quiet for long.