Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 105: We’ve Already Cut All Ties!

Chapter 105: Chapter 105: We’ve Already Cut All Ties!

Amelia Garcia returned to the ward and saw Hope sleeping. She grabbed her mobile phone and bag, walked over to give her daughter a gentle kiss on the forehead, and turned to leave.

Out of the blue, before she even reached the door, the hospital room door swung open.

Christopher Hart stood there, tall and distinguished, an air of chilliness about him.

She glanced at him and pretended not to see, walking straight past him.

"Aren’t you going to listen to my explanation?" the man suddenly spoke, his voice deep.

Amelia stopped but didn’t turn around, "Do you think an explanation would make a difference?"

She had been slandered so many times in the past, had explained so often, but who had believed her?

Christopher turned to face her, clearly understanding what her words hinted at.

He had rushed back in haste, thinking all the way about how to explain this situation.

He had even called Benny Palmer.

That guy gave him eight words: "be open and honest, share your deepest feelings."

After hearing that, he had frowned, skeptical, but now, seeing this woman, his pride and reserve vanished in an instant.

From last night until noon today, he felt the shift in the atmosphere between them.

He had thought that if they kept going, she would change her mind.

But he had never anticipated Lily Garcia’s sudden appearance, finding conclusive evidence!

Now all his efforts were wasted.

His thoughts wandered for a moment, then quickly refocused as he stared deeply into the woman’s downcast eyes and suddenly asked, "Are you now willing to explain everything from back then?"

Amelia was shocked, staring back at him in utter amazement.

"You didn’t hear me wrong. I’m talking about explaining everything from the past—why your bracelet was in Grandpa’s study, why the stolen corporate secrets happened to appear in your father’s company’s project papers, Wendy’s fall into the sea, your fight with my mother, all of it."

As Amelia listened to him list everything, a cold laugh began to form inside her.

He remembered so clearly; it must have been hard for him.

"Only those who don’t trust require explanations," she responded coolly.

If there was true trust, would any of this be necessary?

With true trust, one would stand by her side without hesitation, warding off the Hart Family’s insults and accusations, even confronting their own family for her.

But he hadn’t done that.

Christopher speaking these words was already what he considered a very sincere compromise on his part.

He had thought she had been waiting for this day, to explain herself and clear up all the misunderstandings and hostilities between them.

But she had responded to him with biting sarcasm.

Meaning he didn’t trust her, he didn’t defend her.

Silence fell between them again, Amelia turned her face away, but Christopher kept staring at her intently.

Considering that their daughter was still asleep and should not be disturbed, he lifted his hand, took hold of her wrist, and said, "Come with me."

Amelia frowned and struggled, then once outside, she whispered fiercely, "Let go of me! Christopher Hart, we cut ties long ago! After all these years, why must you dig up such stale, trivial matters?"

Even if it is all cleared up, what would it change?

The Hart Family’s disdain and disgust for her had long since become an instinct.

Even if she could prove her innocence and those incidents weren’t her doing, would Emma Carter and Wendy Hart, with their temperaments, ever apologize to her?

They wouldn’t.

They would hate her even more.

Because they didn’t like her, they had designed those traps to frame her and drive a wedge between her and Christopher’s affection.

If it were revealed that they were the masterminds, where would their reputation and face be?

When the time comes, they wouldn’t blame their own son, their own brother; instead, they would hate her even more, the outsider.

Everyone says that a marriage not blessed by the family won’t end well.

She had already tried once and didn’t want to try again.

So, let those misunderstandings continue.

In this life, she had no intention of reconciling with Christopher Hart, nor did she want to get entangled with the Hart family anymore.

Why bother speaking up about the past grievances?

Actually, she should thank Lily Garcia.

If it hadn’t been for her making a scene today, she would have almost fallen for Christopher’s sugar-coated bullets.

No matter how she struggled, Christopher didn’t let go, insisting on dragging her to the rooftop of the building.

The sun was sweltering, the heat wave unbearable, and as soon as she was pulled up by the man, she broke free from his grasp, turned around, and walked away, "I’m going to be sunburned to death, I don’t have the time to indulge your madness!"

But Christopher wrapped his arms around her in an embrace, buried his handsome face in her shoulder, and uttered, "I’m sorry."

Sorry?

Amelia Garcia’s heart trembled, and she froze, forgetting to resist.

Did she hear that right?

A man like Christopher actually saying sorry, and to her?

Feeling the astonishment of the woman in his arms, Christopher Hart seized that impulse and, with resolute resolve, continued, "I am truly and sincerely apologizing to you; if you don’t want to talk about the past, then we won’t."

Amelia was held tightly by him, the height difference forcing her to tilt her face upward.

Her eyes moistened, tears inevitably sliding down her cheeks and winding through the hair by her temples.

Her heart trembled, the long-suppressed grievances, resentment, even hatred, and anger all seeping out from the fractures.

She took a deep breath and asked mockingly on his shoulder, "You think a simple ’I’m sorry’ can erase all the suffering, all the pain I’ve endured these years?"

Christopher let go of her, hands grasping her shoulders.

Seeing the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes, the man felt a thread of pain in his heart and, frowning, asked, "Then what do you want me to do?"

He asked this sincerely.

But for Amelia, it was too late...

Not daring to meet his gaze, she hung her head and raised one hand, brushing away the large palm that rested on her shoulder.

"Christopher, if you truly realize your wrongs and want to make amends, then give me Hope. My only regret in this life is that I couldn’t keep Hope by my side."

Towards the end, she still looked up at the man, her voice low and heavy but also infused with a gentle plea, "Can you?"

Seeing her resolve as unbreakable as a boulder, the hope on Christopher’s face gradually withered away.

He let go of the other hand still on her shoulder and turned away, his tone growing colder, "I’ve painstakingly raised her for over four years, day and night. She has become an indispensable part of my life."

"Do you know how many all-nighters I’ve pulled for her, how many times I’ve worried? Now, at last... Her illness is about to be completely cured, and I can finally have some peace of mind, can finally watch her live a carefree life like any normal person, and can fully experience the joy of being a father—"

"And you want me to just give her back to you?"

Christopher laughed, his eyes filled with scornful chill.

"Amelia Garcia, you only carried her for a little over six months, and I’ve raised her for over four years. If we’re talking about who deserves to be her guardian, it definitely should be me!"

Actually, Amelia had carried the triplets for more than just over six months.

It’s just that because her sister was born so small, the development of her bodily organs, her vital signs, indeed, were very much like those of a fetus at just over six months.

Medically, the survival odds for a preterm baby of more than six months were nearly zero.

Back then, when she gave up her daughter, she didn’t dare to hope that the little girl would be lucky enough to survive.

The extent of what Christopher had invested was indeed immeasurable.