Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 346: Christopher Hart’s Sorrow

Chapter 346: Chapter 346: Christopher Hart’s Sorrow

After the first snow, the days flew by quickly.

In the blink of an eye, New Year’s Day was approaching, and the countdown to the New Year had begun.

Since Christopher had returned to the company to take charge, those disloyal elements who were starting to emerge were temporarily suppressed.

But it was only temporary.

These people had long harbored thoughts of rebellion and had always maintained a strained relationship with Christopher.

Now Christopher was experiencing major upheavals in his life, making it an unprecedented opportunity they wouldn’t easily give up.

Their temporary retreat didn’t mean surrender; it was about seeking a more secure and foolproof way. If they tore off the mask but failed, they’d lose even the little voice they had in the company.

On New Year’s Day, Amelia had to travel out of town for the opening ceremony of a new store.

Naturally, Christopher was unhappy about her traveling, but since opposing her wouldn’t work, he merely assigned two bodyguards to accompany her and asked her to hurry back once her work was done.

Thinking it’d been a while since he’d returned to the family estate, and given New Year’s Day, he felt both emotionally and logically obligated to visit.

When the housekeeper informed Emma Carter that her son was returning home, her face clearly showed fluctuations in emotion. However, it lasted only a moment before her expression turned cold again. She didn’t get up to greet him.

Christopher entered the house and gestured slightly for Fuller to retreat.

He noticed the somber mood in the living room. His mother was the only one there, sitting on the sofa watching a wellness program on the LCD screen. His father and sister were nowhere in sight. Pressing his lips together, he softly said, "Mom, it’s New Year’s Day. Happy New Year to you."

Emma Carter took a deep breath, turned, and glanced at her son, her tone laced with faint sarcasm: "I thought... you’d never set foot in this house again."

"Mom..."

Christopher called out softly, knowing she still harbored resentment. For a moment, he didn’t know what else to say.

In recent days, he and Amelia had rekindled their bond, and with their children by their side, laughter filled their days, and his attitude and emotions had stabilized considerably.

More importantly, Amelia had more than once subtly encouraged him to mend the strained ties with his family, saying that blood relations could never truly be severed.

Gradually, he began to reflect on himself and tried to ease relations with his parents.

After a moment of silence, he proactively changed the subject: "Where’s Dad? Has Wendy returned?"

Emma Carter seemed surprised.

She had thought her sarcastic remark would trigger her hot-tempered son to leave angrily on the spot, yet unexpectedly, he didn’t get mad and instead continued searching for a topic.

After all, he was her own son. And soon enough, he would be their only child left. Though Emma Carter’s exterior remained cold, her heart was filled with pain.

Her expression softened slightly, and her tone turned gentler as she replied, "Your father’s in the study; I don’t know what he’s busy with. Wendy is in her room; the family doctor just came by to give her an injection."

Christopher frowned. "I saw her looking well the last time. Why is it..."

He trailed off mid-sentence.

His sister’s health condition was one the doctors had once declared deadly, predicting she wouldn’t live past twenty. But thanks to good fortune and a kidney transplant, she had defied those grim odds.

However, her genetic immune deficiency disease was something that could never fully be cured.

Fluctuations in her health, sometimes better and sometimes worse, were expected.

The family estate didn’t have an elevator, and Christopher, seated in a wheelchair, found it inconvenient to go upstairs. He looked up toward the upper floor briefly but said nothing more.

Seeing her son’s attitude improve, Emma Carter’s anger quickly dissipated. She began explaining, "Your father will certainly come down for dinner. Wendy has been bedridden for the past few days; when she’s feeling better, then..."

She had planned to say, "you can visit her again when she’s better," but reconsidered—who knew if they’d ever see a day when her daughter felt better.

Thinking of this, Emma Carter couldn’t hold back her tears.

Christopher noticed his mother suddenly crying and immediately asked with concern, "Mom, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Emma Carter shook her head, her facade of strength crumbling as she choked out, "Wendy’s illness... it’s worsening. The doctor said... this could very well be her last New Year."

What?!

Christopher didn’t speak, but his emotions and expression underwent a dramatic change.

"She even visited the hospital to check on me not long ago; how did it suddenly turn this serious?"

"Suddenly?" Emma Carter looked at him, her heart filled with sadness and resentment. "Ever since that woman returned, you’ve been completely preoccupied with her. When have you cared about anyone in this family? Wendy’s health has been deteriorating for months now. Even before your own troubles, she was already getting worse. You simply didn’t pay attention..."

Christopher listened to his mother’s words, unable to respond.

It was true; ever since Amelia returned, his mind couldn’t fit anyone or anything else.

Especially after uncovering the truth about Wendy’s fall into the sea, he had blamed and resented his spoiled sister deeply, never caring about her current health.

But no matter the resentment, no matter the blame—she was now gravely ill, with limited time left. What could he, as her older brother, possibly do?

At lunch, George Hart came downstairs.

Seeing his son return, he remained distant, calling him "ungrateful child!" as he approached the dining table.

Emma Carter, whose anger over her son had completely dissipated by now, discreetly nudged her husband under the table. She didn’t want father and son to start arguing on the first day of the New Year.

Christopher, still immersed in the pain of knowing his sister’s critical condition, didn’t react to his father’s reprimand. Instead, he thought if venting anger made them feel better inside, then so be it.

The dining table remained quiet, the atmosphere heavy yet peaceful.

After a while, Christopher thought of company matters and raised his gaze toward George Hart. "Dad, I’m sure you’ve heard about some of the recent problems in the company?"

George Hart, who had been sitting coldly and simmering in discontent, seized the opportunity to vent upon hearing this. In an exasperated tone, he said, "How could I not know? They’ve called me countless times, saying you’ve grown wings and abandoned family, running the company like a tyrant and ignoring everyone’s opinions!"

Christopher replied calmly, "It’s not that I refuse to listen to their suggestions, but rather that they are too impulsive. They always like to be incited by others and come to me with unrealistic projects. With the current tough economic climate, developing new projects requires extreme caution; otherwise, it could..."

"Don’t talk to me about those lofty principles! Business is business; I understand that. But at least you can’t completely shut them out. Benny Palmer is an outsider, yet he had a position second only to yours, with immense power in the company. But what about those family members and elders with the same surname as you—what roles do they have? By comparison, wouldn’t anyone feel discontent?"

Christopher’s expression remained calm. "Benny Palmer has already resigned."

"I’m aware; he couldn’t even manage his own backyard and should’ve long returned to the Palmer Family to play the role of heir. What business did he have meddling with you?"

Christopher didn’t argue, and the table returned to silence.

A moment later, George Hart glanced at him. Noting his improved temper since returning, he couldn’t help but ask, "Have you really made up with Amelia Garcia?"

"Yes."

"And plan to move forward with her for good?"

"Yes."

Emma Carter cast a glance at her son, wanting to say something, but was interrupted when George Hart shot her a look to stay silent.

"I know you’re stubborn, and we can’t control you. Do as you wish. But for us to accept her—it’ll be over my dead body." George Hart dropped the harsh words.

To Christopher, however, this was almost progress. At least they were no longer interfering as actively to stop him and Amelia.

Thinking about Amelia, who always tried to persuade him not to go against his family, he felt a tenderness sweep over him and couldn’t help but continue persuading his parents: "Dad, Mom, you watched Amelia grow up. You both know what kind of person she is. The problem is these past years have been filled with misunderstandings and too much prejudice, which you’ve been too proud to let go of..."

"Stop assuming things for yourself! Who’s too proud here?"

Christopher ignored their denial and continued, "Your pride and refusal to accept her or admit fault have led to this ongoing stalemate. But have you ever considered how embarrassing this is for outsiders watching the family feud? It’s just as humiliating for us."

Emma Carter, who had been forgiving her son all day for his unusually good attitude, couldn’t hold her temper when these words pushed boundaries. Her face darkened. "Christopher, did you come back today just to convince us to accept her?"

"No, that’s not my main reason. I just wanted to mention it in passing. Happiness and a good life are about what you truly feel; it’s not always about status or face. You make those things too important, but in doing so, you’ll miss many opportunities in life."

"What, are you starting to lecture us now? Preaching your life philosophy?" George Hart set down his chopsticks angrily.

In the past, Christopher would’ve flipped over the table and stormed out.

But today, time and again, he suppressed his temper.

Thinking about Wendy’s incurable illness, the fact they’d soon face the heartbreak of losing her made Christopher feel as if a knife was carving into his heart.

"Forget it, let’s stop talking about this. Let’s eat." Knowing that his parents’ opinions of Amelia wouldn’t change overnight, he decided to drop the topic.

Emma Carter was surprised again.

Her son’s attitude today was unusually good—almost alarmingly so.

Observing him quietly for a while, Emma suddenly realized something and asked, "You said just now... that years of misunderstandings and prejudice—Christopher, have you remembered your past?"

"Yes, a few days ago it all came back."

Emma Carter sat upright in shock. "Really? You’ve recovered? Have you seen the doctor again since then? What did the doctor say?"

George Hart glanced at his son, momentarily surprised as well, but shortly afterward, his anger flared up again. "Is this how you treat your parents? Regaining your vision without telling us, recovering your memory without even a word—do we still exist in your eyes as your parents?"

In the past, Emma Carter had been the one with the bigger temper and stronger presence, while George Hart rarely spoke unless the situation was dire.

But today, their roles reversed. She became the mediator, trying to soothe matters: "That’s enough! Stop complaining. The fact that he’s recovered is a good thing. Why are you shouting for no reason? Let’s eat!"

George Hart was too full of frustration to have any appetite left!

For the most part, it was because he’d received numerous complaints about his son’s behavior from the company recently. He had long planned a good talk, but with the father-son relationship frozen, he was unwilling to initiate contact.

Now, the "unrepentant rebel" had come back voluntarily. Of course, George Hart wouldn’t miss the chance to settle scores all at once.

The meal was full of smoke and tension, but thanks to Christopher’s drastically improved temper, it didn’t end in complete discord.

After finishing the meal, he initially wanted Fuller to bring his team upstairs and take him to visit Wendy.

But Emma Carter went upstairs and found Wendy asleep after her injection. She urged Christopher not to disturb her and to visit next time instead.

Christopher then said his farewells.

Emma Carter saw him to the car, and looking at her son in a wheelchair, depending on others for assistance, her heart ached.

"Next time you come back, bring the children with you." Emma Carter spoke first. Before Christopher could respond, she added quickly, "Bring that girl along as well."

Christopher was stunned and looked at his mother.

But Emma Carter clearly felt embarrassed. She avoided his gaze, her face awkward.

She had finally compromised.

To accept them, she’d have to accept all three children together.

After overcoming his surprise, Christopher didn’t immediately agree but said instead, "I’ll ask the kids about it first."

Emma Carter immediately scoffed, "You mean you’ll ask that woman’s opinion first!"

"Mom, Amelia has never tried to stop the kids from connecting with you—it’s just another misunderstanding you have about her."

Hearing his serious tone, Emma Carter didn’t know how to respond for a moment. After waving dismissively, she simply said, "Take care of yourself," before turning back into the house.

The car door closed; the engine started, and they drove away.

Christopher let out a long breath, relaxed outwardly but feeling heavy inside.

Unbidden, his thoughts drifted to the woman who was away working during the holiday.

If only she were by his side now; holding her, kissing her—it would fill him with warmth and strength, and his mood would brighten greatly.

Thinking this, he instinctively took out his phone and dialed her number.

But on the third ring, the call was rejected.

Rejected?

He pulled the phone away and stared at the screen, his handsome face turning stiff.

This woman...

Was she now even more of a workaholic than he had been in the past? So busy that she rejected his call?!

He was about to dial again when a WhatsApp message popped up on his screen.

[Busy right now. I’ll get back to you later.]

Reading this, Christopher was both frustrated and at his wit’s end.

By the time he was nearing home, his phone rang again. But by then, the worst of his sorrow had already passed.

"Hello..."

On Amelia’s end, it seemed she was still socializing. The background noise was quite chaotic, and she appeared to be walking while finding a quieter place before asking, "Why did you call me?"

Mr. Hart immediately turned sour. "I need to have a reason to call you now?"

"That’s not what I meant... I just assumed you knew how busy I’d be today, so if you were calling, it must’ve been for a reason."

He felt blocked with indignation. "I called for no reason."

Amelia checked her phone again before putting it back to her ear. She thought to herself, What happened with him now? Who annoyed him that he came to pick a fight with me?

Without hearing her response, Christopher quickly calmed down, realizing he was being irrational.

After a short pause, he voluntarily explained, "I went back to the family estate for lunch earlier and am almost home now. Just felt bored on the way and wanted to see what you were up to."

Oh~

Amelia understood now.

"Sounds like lunch wasn’t enjoyable." Knowing the reason behind his mood, Amelia let go of her irritation and casually asked, "Did they fight with you over me again?"

"No..."

"Then why do you sound like you’re ready to explode?"

"It’s not that either..."

His tone was low and somber, with things he wanted to say but felt were inappropriate to share with Amelia.

— Wendy’s condition was worsening, and her time was running out. Even if he told Amelia this, what would be the point?

It would only make her mistakenly think he wanted her to reconcile with Wendy.

But in truth, he didn’t hold such thoughts.

Wendy had been wrong, no question about it. Wendy had hurt Amelia—that was another indisputable fact.

Even if Wendy was gravely ill and dying, it wasn’t a reason to force moral reconciliation or demand Amelia to forgive her.

Christopher didn’t want Amelia to compromise herself, nor did he want to use moral guilt to manipulate her expectations—to tell her seemed pointless.

When Wendy eventually passed, at her funeral, if Amelia chose to attend and pay her respects, he wouldn’t stop her.

If she decided not to, he likewise wouldn’t insist.

Christopher had already compartmentalized these relationships crystal clear in his heart.