Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 495: Mom’s Diary

Chapter 495: Chapter 495: Mom’s Diary

Christopher’s body is still in recovery, and the doctor repeatedly advised him to stay bedridden and avoid prolonged sitting.

So, after meeting with Thomas Smith, he attended to urgent business matters and then returned with Amelia.

Throughout the journey, Amelia remained silent.

Christopher held her hand and observed her closely for a while before gently asking, "What are you thinking about?"

She turned her head, shook it, and murmured, "Not thinking about anything... my mind is a mess, yet it feels blank."

So she decided to empty her mind and not think about anything.

Christopher understood how she felt and gently pulled her closer into his arms.

"I once read a poem in a book and found it beautifully written."

Amelia slightly lifted her head from his embrace, "Which poem?"

"It’s by a poet from the Portugal Sector, and the poem is called: ’Every Unhappy Day of Yours Is Not Yours.’"

Christopher held her as they snuggled close, swaying gently with the car’s movement.

His voice was deep and charming as he softly recited the poem.

"Every unhappy day of yours is not yours; you just wasted it. No matter how you live, if you are not happy, you have never truly lived. If the reflection of the sunset in a pond is enough to please you, then love, wine, or laughter are irrelevant. A happy person is one who finds joy in the small things, embracing every day’s natural gifts without rejection!"

Amelia lay quietly in his arms, never having dreamt that Christopher, a decisive businessman, would one day tenderly and eloquently recite such a beautiful and profound modern poem to her.

After listening, she maintained her position, looking up from the crook of his arm, staring blankly at him.

Noticing, Christopher looked down at her and smiled with his sensual lips slightly curved, "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Amelia raised her hand, touching his forehead, "I was checking to see if you have a fever."

"..." Mr. Hart twitched the corner of his mouth and, in slight annoyance, flicked her forehead gently.

"Ah! Why did you do that?" Amelia winced in pain and sat up from his embrace.

"Aren’t you women the ones who are always romantic and sentimental? I racked my brain to remember this poem to comfort you, and this is how you respond?"

Mr. Hart pretended to be displeased, withdrawing his arm with a "I’m very angry" demeanor.

Seeing him pout, Amelia smiled again and took the initiative to link her arm with his.

"I was just joking with you."

"Not funny."

"Alright, I was wrong." Amelia quickly apologized, then seriously added, "That poem is indeed beautifully written. Your unhappy days are not yours—so, we should all be happy and not remain shrouded by negative things."

Mr. Hart, coaxed by her gentle words, soon softened up. He turned to her again, "Don’t just say it; your happiness or sadness is written all over your face."

Seeing it makes my heart ache, but I feel helpless.

"I won’t be. Things have already happened, only recently exposed. My sadness changes nothing; I just think of my mom and feel sorry for her."

"Hmm..." Christopher re-embraced her, shoulder to shoulder, "I understand you, so take some more time to remember them, but not too long. I believe even in heaven, your mom wouldn’t want to see you in perpetual gloom."

"Alright." She responded obediently, snuggling back into his arms, sincerely sighing, "Christopher... we are fortunate. After missing out, we got another chance. From now on, let’s cherish it."

"Of course, this time I’ll hold you tight, no matter the person or thing, nothing will separate us again."

She didn’t speak, but her serene, graceful face showed a gentle smile of happiness as she held him tighter.

Near home, Christopher remembered something.

"Amelia, now that everything’s settled, would you consider moving to the Imperial Garden? It’s more spacious and comfortable than here."

Amelia thought for a moment, shaking her head, "Moving back and forth is too troublesome, let’s stay here for now. Why, does it not match the status of you, President Hart?"

The man chuckled, "Am I that kind of person? Besides, I’m now a down-and-out president without the right to be pompous. I’m just concerned about you and the kids."

Amelia gave him a look, "At least we’re living in a villa, what’s there to fret about? I know your intentions, but you need to understand my insistence too. We remain unofficial and unsanctioned, I don’t want to move to the Imperial Garden and tempt gossip. Living here, I’m comfortable and at ease."

Talking about being unofficial reminded Christopher of his temper, "Isn’t that what you asked for? We’ve arranged to get the certificate several times, yet you always back out at the last minute."

When this topic comes up, Mr. Hart becomes the wronged martyr.

Amelia knew she was at fault and was about to appease him when the car stopped.

The driver got out to open the car door for them, assisting Christopher in getting out.

As he shut the door, the driver suddenly recalled something and turned to say, "Ma’am, yesterday I washed the car and saw some clutter in the trunk, do you still need it? If not, I’ll move it out later and throw it away."

Clutter?

Amelia paused, unable to recall at first.

It wasn’t until the driver opened the trunk and pointed out the bags, that she realized.

"Yes, I need them! Please help me move them inside."

"Alright." The driver agreed, carrying the bags from the trunk.

Amelia pushed Christopher as they walked behind.

"What are these?"

"These are some mementos of my mom, grandfather, and grandmother."

"Mementos?"

Seeing the puzzled look on the man’s face, she explained, "Aren’t the courtyard houses in the Ancient Town being renovated? I went there on the day construction started but didn’t expect to find a lot of things in the storage room. The designer asked if I wanted them or not. I found many mementos belonging to my mom and them and couldn’t bear to throw them away, so I brought them back."

Christopher understood and suggested, "We can choose a suitable day to burn them for them."

"Hmm, I was thinking the same." She intended to keep a few items as keepsakes, and the rest to send over.

Back home, Christopher went to bed to rest.

The kids hadn’t returned from school, and the house was peaceful and quiet.

After settling the man in, Amelia entered the living room and saw the items left on the coffee table, so she went over and sat down.

She casually leafed through the mementos, finding some certificates and honors belonging to her grandfather, along with several old photo albums containing pictures of her grandparents, and, of course, more photos of her mom.

Going through them one by one, she decided to keep these albums as mementos and set them aside.

With some items left in the bag, she poured them all out.

Seeing the few old-covered notebooks, curious, she picked them up to see what was written inside.

To her surprise, upon opening them, she was astonished.

They were diaries! Her mom’s diaries!