Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 369: Holding Her While Sleeping

Chapter 369: Chapter 369: Holding Her While Sleeping

Amelia smiled lightly, "Raise them, then! Don’t worry, we can afford babysitters and drivers. You won’t have to bear all the responsibility alone."

Thinking about the casual joke they had shared earlier, Amelia had once jokingly said, in her "stingy" way, that if Christopher became a stay-at-home dad, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy life like this. Dreaming about hiring babysitters, chefs, and servants? Not possible.

Now, she was suddenly acting like a big spender, carrying herself with the vibe of a confident boss lady.

Christopher clearly recalled that conversation too, and for the first time in days, a smile graced his face. His voice was deep and tender as he said, "I miss you... Let’s have dinner together tonight."

Amelia felt her heart tremble and immediately responded, "Sure! Why don’t you just come directly to the hotel? You can play with the little ones too—they haven’t seen you for days and keep mentioning you."

She thought about how both of them were "hot topics" in public. Going out for a meal would inevitably draw attention, so it was better to just have a casual meal in the hotel room.

A family being together neatly and happily—that’s the most beautiful thing, and what they eat is secondary.

After hanging up the phone, Amelia quickly attended to her important tasks and personally went to pick up the kids from kindergarten.

Upon hearing that their dad would be visiting tonight, the three little ones squealed with excitement.

"I thought Dad forgot about us! Hmph, I’ve decided to ignore him tonight," Hope, with her mischievous streak, pouted.

Driving, Amelia glanced at the rearview mirror upon hearing this and smiled faintly, defending him, "Your dad didn’t deliberately avoid seeing you. He’s just working too hard and too much. Hope, you need to be an understanding little angel. When you see your dad tonight, give him a big hug and kiss him, okay?"

Hope pouted more dramatically, speaking in a mock grown-up tone, "Fine... I suppose I can, since I’m a naturally kind and adorable little angel."

Ethan suddenly blurted out, "I bet Dad probably wants Mom to hug him and kiss him more. Sis, you can save yourself the effort."

"Ethan!" Amelia exclaimed in shock, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror once again. She saw her younger son wearing an innocent expression, as if saying: I was merely stating a very obvious truth...

"Well..." She suppressed her embarrassment, putting on a stern face, "Your dad misses you, and he’s stopping by to see Mom while he’s at it. Don’t talk nonsense."

"Mom, don’t treat us like clueless kids," Noah interjected coldly, exposing her attempts.

Amelia: "..."

Still, Noah finished speaking his blunt truth before sighing, "Seriously, you two—either Mom is too busy to be around, or Dad disappears because of work. When will we finally be a family that can see each other every day and stay together all the time?"

Her son’s lament struck a painful chord in Amelia’s heart.

The obstacles between her and Christopher were too many. She honestly didn’t know when they would be able to openly be together, like any ordinary family.

Back at the hotel, Amelia called for the hotel manager.

After negotiating, she successfully borrowed the hotel kitchen.

Thinking about Christopher’s current predicament, there wasn’t much she could do to help him. Her only gesture was cooking him a heartfelt meal herself.

Christopher arrived just as Amelia placed the final dish of soup on the table.

Looking at the spread of homemade dishes, the man instantly understood and asked in surprise, "You made all this yourself?"

"Yes." She smiled gently and urged him, "Go wash your hands. Dinner’s ready."

The kids were ecstatic upon seeing their dad, rushing over to him excitedly.

Hope climbed into her dad’s arms, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek, chirping brightly, "Dad, do you like my kisses or Mom’s kisses more?"

Christopher’s gaze remained fixed on the woman standing by the dining table. His longing for her had swelled uncontrollably, and his only desire was to talk with her more.

He hadn’t expected to be interrupted by his little girl and hadn’t snapped back into focus for a moment.

"Dad! Dad!" Hope cupped her hands around his face, forcing his slightly tilted head back toward her, raising her voice, "I’m talking to you! Are you even listening?"

The man immediately smiled briefly and offered a perfunctory response, "Oh, oh! Dad’s listening. Hope, my dear, did you miss Dad?"

Hope let out a dramatic sigh, pouting—ugh, clearly he hadn’t heard her earlier question.

Ethan laughed beside them, "Sis, you don’t even need to ask that question. Of course Dad prefers Mom’s kisses. Look, he hasn’t taken his eyes off her."

Ever since her daughter had asked the question, Amelia’s cheeks had flushed red instantly.

This little girl—how had she suddenly grown up so much? Was her speech becoming increasingly... cheeky?

And with Ethan’s follow-up comment, her blush spread all the way to her neck. To maintain her composure, she adopted a stern parental tone, "Enough playing around. Go wash your hands and get ready for dinner!"

The two boys burst into laughter, pushing Christopher’s wheelchair playfully, "Sis, you can sit on Dad’s lap, and we’ll push you both."

"Ahhh! Slow down, you’re going to make me fly!" Hope shouted.

The next moment, her dad’s strong, steady arms caught her securely, kissing her cheek reassuringly, "Don’t worry. Dad’s here."

Amelia watched the warm, joyful scene unfold in front of her and felt as though the tension in her heart had finally loosened after days of worry.

Just as they were about to start eating, Snow returned.

Seeing the cheerful and harmonious atmosphere, she teased, "I heard all your laughter echoing through the hallways. Looks like the head of the house is back."

Amelia said, "Snow, join us for dinner and try my cooking."

"You cooked this?" Snow asked in surprise, glancing at the spread of dishes.

"Yep, have a seat."

Snow was tempted to sit down, but as soon as she moved closer to the table, Christopher’s visibly dismissive look caught her attention. She chuckled awkwardly, waving her hands, "Never mind. I won’t play third wheel. Anyway, my mom’s calling me for dinner at home."

Before she even finished speaking, she was already heading toward the door.

"Hey, Snow! Wait—" Amelia called out, but Snow was already gone. Turning her gaze back, she locked eyes with a certain someone, her expression sharp, "You were glaring at her again, weren’t you?"

Christopher spread his hands innocently, "Did you hear me say a word?"

"..." Amelia had no comeback and returned to the table, "Forget it. Let’s eat before the food gets cold."

Having been rushed around over the past few days and rarely enjoying proper meals, Christopher finally satisfied his appetite with the loving spread Amelia had prepared for him. The homemade dishes sparked his hunger, and he indulged fully.

The family of five polished off every bit of food, leaving the plates looking spotless.

After calling in room service for cleanup, Amelia took the kids to wash up and get them ready for bed.

Aunt Harper, who had earlier found an excuse to step out for a walk, returned, guessing the meal had ended.

"Ma’am, let me handle this. Go spend some time with Mr. Hart," Aunt Harper said perceptively as she took over Amelia’s task in the bathroom.

Not standing on ceremony, Amelia dried her hands and walked out, only to see the man sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window. It was unclear whether he was admiring the night view or lost in thought.

She approached him and settled into the chaise lounge beside him.

Christopher turned to look at her, his initially cold and solemn expression instantly softening. Instinctively, he reached out to clasp her hand in his palm.

"Thank you for all your effort today. Dinner was delicious."

She smiled gently, "I didn’t put in much effort. These days have been so busy, I haven’t cooked in a while. It was only because the kids missed the taste of Mom’s cooking that I prepared something—not specifically for you."

She didn’t want him to feel burdened, even to the slightest degree, so she deliberately concealed her true intentions.

But how could Christopher not see through her?

Although the challenges between them had escalated to unprecedented levels, he could sense their hearts growing closer than ever.

Still, since she chose to put it that way, Mr. Hart played along, sighing, "So I was just piggybacking off the kids, huh."

"Now you get it."

The two chuckled softly. Christopher pulled the woman sitting in the chaise lounge closer to him, raising his arm to embrace her and hold her tightly.

Amelia was docile; finding a comfortable position against his shoulder, she leaned in and didn’t move.

Time seemed to pause quietly, and both remained silently nestled together, gazing out at the night, wishing they could stay like this forever.

"Your sister’s memorial is tomorrow morning, isn’t it?" After a long while, Amelia asked softly.

Christopher rested his chin on the top of her head, surrounded by the soothing scent she carried, almost drifting to sleep. Her words stirred him awake, and he replied, "Yes. Why do you ask? Are you planning to go?"

She sighed faintly, "Emotionally and logically, I ought to go. I just worry I’ll cause you trouble."

"You shouldn’t go. Ignore societal conventions—I know the truth, and that’s enough."

It turned out, Christopher truly understood her, why she had said "emotionally and logically, I ought to go."

Amelia lifted her head from his arms, "The way you side with me must have left your mom fuming, hasn’t it?"

Christopher’s lips curved slightly in a helpless expression, "Poet’s death hit them hard and made them even more extreme than before. I can’t do much about it."

"I heard from Young Master Palmer that your mother is ill? Seems serious?"

"Hmm. We’re waiting for her follow-up reports—it could be complicated." Christopher didn’t want her dwelling on these matters, so after answering, he quickly steered the conversation elsewhere, "Enough about that. Tell me if everything went smoothly when you went to the Ancient Town today."

Regarding this, Amelia’s expression shifted to mild anger, "Michael Garcia’s mistress is still living in the courtyard house with her child and own mother, even had the audacity to try extorting me."

Christopher frowned, "Need me to send someone to deal with it?"

"No need, I can handle her myself." He already had enough on his plate—her minor issues didn’t require his extra attention.

Christopher understood her reasoning, "Amelia, you’ve got to learn to depend on me, even boss me around openly. It’s my pleasure to serve you."

She chuckled brightly, her features lighting up, "Don’t worry, when I need you, I won’t hold back! But this matter, I can truly handle—it’s just not worth underestimating me."

Seeing her speak with fervor and confidence, Christopher had no choice but to yield, "Alright, but anytime you find it unmanageable, let me know."

"Okay."

Noting his exhausted eyes almost closing, Amelia compassionately remarked, "Why don’t you go lie down and rest for a while? Your dark circles are worse than a panda’s, and you’ve lost more weight again..."

"Yes, I’m really tired. But I still have to leave soon, so I’d rather not go through the hassle. Just let me hold you for a bit and take a nap." His tone was almost childlike, as he tightened his embrace, leaning his head against hers.

Outside, the pitch-black skies made the reflective glass look almost like a mirror.

Amelia remained still, watching the image of the two of them holding each other reflected in the glass. As she gazed at Christopher’s peacefully sleeping face, faint waves of pain rippled through her heart.