Chapter 567 +25 Bonus Chapter 567 Tears shimmered in Agatha's eyes. She tightened her grip on Sydney's hand, then eased it at once, afraid she might hurt her. Excitement rushed through her until she slapped her own thigh. "Good. Good!" She repeated the word several times, then shot Sydney a mock glare. "You silly child. How could you hide something this big from me?" Her relief grew when she remembered that her grandson was hopelessly lovesick. If something involved Sydney, he'd accept it without a second thought.
Sydney touched the bridge of her nose and explained everything in a steady voice. She laid out her worries and hesitation because she'd want no unspoken barrier between them if they intended to become a family. When Agatha learned that Sydney feared her background might burden Julian, the thought left her aching. "Silly girl. You worry about dragging him down, but have you ever wondered whether he fears being burdened by you, or fears losing you more?" Life had carried Agatha through enough storms to leave her with sharp insight.
Money and power mattered, but nothing compared to her grandson's joy and sorrow. During the years Sydney had been absent, she had watched loneliness settle over him piece by piece. If Julian had cared one bit about Sydney's origins, Agatha would have knocked sense into him herself. Sydney blinked, moved by the words. Julian had said something similar, but hearing it again from Agatha caught her off guard. She had known Agatha to be warm and tolerant, but not to this extent. Her eyes reddened. She looked at Agatha and spoke softly.
"Grandma, thank you." "What are you thanking me for?" Agatha placed food in her bowl with gentle patience. "You'll carry a child full term. Jules can't share even a fraction of that hardship. For that alone, he and I owe you for a lifetime." Sydney's eyes heated further. Then Agatha's voice sharpened. "So that brat still doesn't know he's a father, does he?" Sydney's flush faded, and she lowered her gaze. "I told him, but he may have misheard." At the time, his attention had been completely elsewhere. Agatha dismissed the issue with a wave. "Then tell him again when you get the chance.
I'll not say a word." Such happy news belonged to the young couple. It was not her place to meddle. Whatever happiness Sydney chose, Agatha would support. As for Julian's feelings, that was his problem to sort out. She thought about the fact that in a little over four months she would be holding a great-grandchild. She wanted to hurry home and start preparing. Still, she waited until Julian returned to the ward before rising to leave. ... Julian noticed the impatience written in every line of Agatha's posture and asked dryly, "Is someone chasing you?" Agatha smacked him on the head.
"Someone is chasing me." Her great-grandchild was chasing her. If she did not prepare now, the baby would arrive too soon, She had kept her distance before because she had not wanted to overstep. After all, the child had not been a Sterling descendant, at least as she had believed. 1/3 tagney l +25 Bonus Now, refusing to intervene would feel improper. Julian frowned. "What does that mean?" She ignored him, shot Sydney a conspiratorial wink, and swept out of the room with surprising vigor. Sydney checked Eliana's pulse again.
When she looked up, Julian still stared at the doorway in bafflement. "Are you two hiding something from me?" "Yes, we are," she answered without hesitation, then walked to the sofa to retrieve the silver needles Agatha had brought. The poison was spreading again. No matter how anxious she felt, she could only slow its progress until Alan returned. After another round of acupuncture, Sydney remained at Eliana's bedside. Julian did not try to pull her away. He stayed with her, reviewing documents while keeping an eye on her. Dusk settled. Someone knocked on the ward door.
Sydney was reading an update from the research institute and assumed Marcus had returned from the clinic. She spoke without looking up. "Come in." The handle turned. Steady footsteps crossed the room. A tall figure stopped on the opposite side of the bed. "Sorry. I only just heard what happened to Eliana. How is she?" The voice halted her breath. It was unexpected, yet instantly familiar. It was not Marcus. It was Caleb. Sydney lifted her head. Caleb set a bouquet of sunflowers on the bedside table. The moment those clear, calm eyes met hers, his expression faltered.
He looked away at once, stiff and uneasy. Mark Twain