Benson

Chapter 85 Yvonne’s Maternal Love

Arthur took a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on the small coffee table in front of him. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if the paper carried immensely important information.

Benson looked at him with curiosity before picking up the paper and examining it closely.

His brow furrowed slightly, and a complex emotion flickered in his eyes. Arthur wiped his son’s drool with a handkerchief, his voice calm and steady, “This is the test result from the milk you left. Dad had it tested and found several banned substances, the kind only available on the black market overseas.”

Benson looked up at him, understanding his brother’s intent. A wave of inexplicable irritation rose within him..

Arthur had laid out so much, detailing Yvonne’s struggles and good character. Someone who hard wouldn’t resort to such low tactics, nor did she have access to such means.

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“It wasn’t her who did it. Why did she admit it?” Benson’s voice trembled slightly, his throat tightening. His mind wandered back to that day. She had been scared and vulnerable, unable to push him away. forced to endure his humiliating play.

A surge of guilt and pain overwhelmed him.

Arthur said nothing more, knowing that Benson had found his own answer. She had denied it, but he hadn’t believed a word.

A sense of helplessness washed over him.

He looked up and saw Yvonne placing trimmed flowers into a small vase on the tea table. Her movements were gentle and meticulous, as if handling a precious treasure.

Back in his room, Benson remained in a state of turmoil.

His room was on the third floor of the old mansion, a distance from the ground, but his restless emotions seemed louder than a vacuum cleaner, echoing heavily in the humid, confined space.

It was an especially hot day. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting dappled patterns on the floor. Upon entering the room, the oppressive heat was palpable.

He spent a few minutes adjusting the air conditioning, hoping to create a more comfortable environment. Despite this, his inner unrest remained unrelieved.

After a shower, he stood before the mirror, a towel draped around him, water droplets falling from his hair. At that moment, he heard laughter and noise from downstairs.

It was his niece, little Emma, playing with Yvonne. Benson thought to himself that they were probably playing pick–up sticks on the soft living room carpet again.

He could picture the scene: every time Emma won a game, she’d jump up excitedly, her feet landing lightly on the soft carpet.

And when she lost, she’d make an exaggerated angry face, pouting adorably.

Though these thoughts brought a slight smile to Benson’s lips, he still couldn’t focus on anything, so he pulled the curtains, trying to shut out the external distractions.

The oppressive heat inside made the room feel even more stifling. Benson leaned against the door, sliding down to sit on the floor, feeling a wave of loneliness wash over him.

At that moment, a baby’s cry suddenly pierced the air from the neighboring room, growing louder and

Chap 35 Yom Matemul Love

more insistent–clearly, his brother’s new baby, Lucas, was crying.

Initially, Benson tried to ignore the crying, attempting to refocus on his own thoughts, but the crying waves were relentless, showing no signs of stopping.

Worry began to creep in. Perhaps the little one needed help.

Finally, a sense of responsibility pushed him to stand up. Though reluctant, he knew he had to check on

the situation.

Leaving his

room, Benson’s heart softened with each cry, his steps quickening unconsciously.

He stood at his brother’s door, his hand half–raised to knock but decided to push the door open instead.

The room was unusually quiet, the air thick and slow.

The only sound breaking the silence was the baby’s crying from the corner, urgent and intense.

The room was simply furnished, with a few warm family photos on the pale yellow walls, and a soft light from the bedside lamp.

Benson’s attention was drawn to the source of the crying–a chubby little baby curled up in the corner, waving his chubby hands vigorously.

Bending down gently, Benson tried to pick up the baby to comfort him, but his clumsy movements seemed to make things worse, the crying growing sharper.

“What did I do to you? Planning to sell you or something? Crying like this?” Benson muttered with a hint of frustration and mild annoyance. He silently cursed himself, realizing he wasn’t adept at handling such fragile little beings.

Just then, hurried footsteps approached from the stairs. Yvonne and little Emma appeared at the door,, witnessing Benson’s awkward situation.

A flash of reproach crossed Yvonne’s face but was quickly replaced by concern, while Emma innocently asked, “Uncle, don’t you know how to comfort a baby?” Her voice was filled with pure curiosity.

Benson managed an awkward smile, unsure how to respond. He handed the crying baby to Yvonne. Taking the baby, Yvonne immediately demonstrated her expert childcare skills, gently patting his back and soothing him.

Before long, the crying subsided, replaced by occasional sniffles.

Tears still clung to the baby’s long lashes like glistening dew.

The baby’s innocent, sorrowful gaze seemed to silently ask Benson why he couldn’t be gentler.

Feeling an indescribable guilt, Benson avoided the baby’s eyes, responding curtly, “What are you looking at?” His tone carried a forced indifference, making the atmosphere tense.

Yvonne, overflowing with maternal love, carried the baby downstairs, her steps steady and harmonious. Emma followed closely, occasionally glancing back at Benson with a mix of confusion and concern. Sitting on the old but comfortable sofa, Benson watched Yvonne tenderly.

Her gentle touch and soothing presence soon calmed the restless baby, who fell into a peaceful sleep.

This scene stirred a warmth in Benson’s heart.

Yvonne turned, her face radiant with a mother’s gentle smile, her eyes shining with love, capable of melting the hardest heart.

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Emma sat quietly on a small chair nearby, her legs swinging.

Emma’s eyes were filled with admiration and dependence on her mother.

The air seemed filled with warmth, bringing a tear to Benson’s eye as his defenses slowly melted away.

He observed the interaction between Yvonne and Emma, feeling the inexpressible bond between mother and daughter, and realized Yvonne would be a wonderful mother.

The tender atmosphere made Benson’s heart soften, and an unfamiliar impulse began to grow within him.

Taking a deep breath to calm his emotions, he looked at Yvonne with a newfound seriousness and determination. “You love children so much. How about we have one too?”

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Chapter 6 Entangled with love and Hate.