"Really? Tristan, you really want to marry me?"

"Yes, really."

Hearing Tristan’s words, Maggie Monroe’s heart warmed. But at the same time, she remembered how Tristan had adamantly told her just a few months ago that he would never marry her.

Her heart trembled. Choking back a sob, she asked, a mixture of anxiety and faint hope in her voice, "Tristan, be honest with me. Are you just pitying me? Did you only decide to marry me because you saw that I’m about to die?"

"Yes..." A flicker of darkness crossed Tristan Grayson’s eyes before he nodded.

At his words, Maggie Monroe laughed mockingly. "Tristan, can’t you even be bothered to lie to me a little? If you had just said that wasn’t the reason, I could die without any regrets. But why do you have to be so cruel? Why did you have to tell me that was the reason?"

"Maggie, the last person I would ever want to deceive is you. From the very beginning until now, I’ve never once thought about lying to you. Love is love, and the absence of love is just that. There’s no need for so many reasons. I’m marrying you simply because it’s a responsibility I must bear."

"Besides responsibility, isn’t there anything else? Not even a little? Tristan, how can you just say you don’t love me anymore? Even if all that’s left is just affection, that would be enough!" Maggie Monroe’s head throbbed, but her heart ached even more. Perhaps when she first got close to Tristan, it was only because he was the perfect man from her dreams, her ideal. But now, she truly loved him. Every little moment from all these years was deeply etched into her mind and heart, impossible to erase, impossible to let go.

"Maggie, if you’re looking for anything more, I have nothing else to give you."

She didn’t dare ask for more. Her hand trembling, she clutched at Tristan Grayson’s sleeve. "Okay, I understand. I don’t want anything else. I just want you to not leave me."

"Mhm..." With a grim expression, he nodded.

Perhaps she was just too exhausted. A moment later, she fell asleep. But even in sleep, she anxiously clung to Tristan’s hand, terrified that he would leave.

Tristan Grayson reached out and pried her small hand off his. He gave her one last, complicated look, then turned and left the hospital room.

An hour later, Tristan Grayson drove back to the Grayson estate. Before he even reached the front door, he heard a baby crying.

He frowned slightly and pushed the door open, walking inside.

In the living room, Caleb Grayson, Mae Lynch, and Tiana Grayson were in a complete tizzy.

Tiana was pushing the stroller back and forth, Mae Lynch was trying to feed Kiki with a bottle, and Caleb Grayson was pacing anxiously nearby, listening to the cries.

Seeing this scene, Tristan Grayson’s frown deepened. "Where did this baby come from?"

"Oh, you’re back, Tristan. Quick, come take over for me. I’m exhausted."

Tristan took off his coat and changed into slippers, his voice low and impatient. "Whose kid is this? What’s he doing in our house?"

"Mom and Dad brought him back. They said you’re supposed to raise Kiki as your son," Tiana said with a happy grin.

"Raise him as my son?" Hearing this, Tristan Grayson stopped changing his shoes. He strode over to them, and when he reached the stroller, his chest suddenly tightened. Anxious and excited, he asked, "Is he my son?"

"Duh! If he’s not your son, whose would he be?" Caleb Grayson was already fuming because Kiki wouldn’t stop crying. Now, hearing Tristan’s dumb question, he aimed a kick at him.

"Mika Summers is back? Where is she???"

’His son. This is his son...’