Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 200 - - I called you Daddy

Albert had just been lying with her in a tender embrace for a short while when the sharp sound of the doorbell suddenly rang out. He almost jumped out of bed, rushing out in a panic without wasting a second, afraid the noise would wake her up.

"Daddy—"

As soon as the door opened, a small figure ran crying into his arms, clutching his neck tightly and sobbing uncontrollably.

"You and Mommy are both gone... Do you not want Olive anymore? Waaa—"

Albert froze completely at the sound of that crisp, clear "Daddy."

But thinking of the person sleeping in the bedroom, he didn't dare linger on the thought. He quickly placed a finger to his lips, trying his best to soothe the crying child.

"Shh! Shh! Olive, Mommy is still sleeping. Can you stop crying for now, please?"

Seeing how anxious he looked, Olive gradually stopped wailing, though soft sobs still escaped her as tears streamed silently down her face, like a broken faucet that couldn't be turned off.

How could a child be comforted so easily? Albert felt his heart ache at her cries. He quickly reached out to wipe away her tears, cupping her tear-streaked face and planting kisses on it over and over.

"How could Daddy and Mommy not want you? We love you so much; there's no way we wouldn't!"

Fredy, standing at the door, chose this moment to speak up.

"The little one woke up crying for her mommy. I told her Mommy doesn't live there, and then she started crying for Daddy. I had no choice but to bring her here as quickly as I could!"

Fredy glanced at Albert, who was wearing nothing but a pair of long pants, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Young Master, I hope I didn't... interrupt you and the Missus?"

Albert shot Fredy a glare. He wished he could be "interrupted" in the way Fredy imagined. Unfortunately, things hadn't progressed that far—she hadn't even let him take her clothes off. The clothes he'd taken off were his own, after he woke up earlier.

Fredy scratched his head awkwardly.

"Well, since I've brought the little one, I'll be off now!"

Albert nodded and carried Olive into the house. But his darling daughter continued to cry, though now it was silent tears. Her tiny hands clung tightly around his neck, pressing against him so firmly that he was starting to feel short of breath.

The little one must have never experienced anything like this before—waking up to find no one by her side. Back in Australia, she must have opened her eyes every morning to see her mommy right there. And in the half-month since returning to the country, Albert had always been the one by her side. But last night, both he and that woman had failed in their duties. No wonder Olive had been frightened out of her wits.

"Olive, don't cry. Daddy's here, Daddy's here!"

Albert looked down at her tear-streaked face, so heartbreakingly pitiful, and sighed. He gently comforted her while carrying her toward the small bedroom—a princess-themed room he'd specially set up just for her.

If she couldn't calm down like this, he'd have no choice but to wake that woman up.

Luckily, as soon as the door opened, Olive's tears stopped. Her big eyes filled with delight, and Albert smiled as he walked in and placed her on the pink little bed. She immediately giggled and threw herself at the Barbie doll sitting by the headboard.

Albert couldn't help but chuckle at her rapid switch from crying to laughing. Kids really did have the purest, simplest hearts.

Olive, hugging the beautiful Barbie doll, bounced happily on the bed. Traces of her earlier tears still clung to her cheeks, but her wide eyes were now brimming with joy.

"Daddy, did you prepare all of this for me?"

Although in Australia, her bedroom in that grand mansion had always been decorated as a luxurious, adorable princess room, those spaces were too large and too empty. They always gave her a sense of unease.

But this place was different. It was small and cozy, making her feel safe. It felt as though, with just a stretch of her hand, she could grab hold of all the happiness around her—her daddy, her mommy.

It wasn't until Olive once again called him "Daddy," her voice clear and sweet, that Albert fully processed what had just happened. Earlier, he'd been too focused on not waking Cynthia to fully savor the rush of emotions the moment had brought.

He had imagined countless times what it would feel like when Olive called him "Daddy" for the first time. Would she say it awkwardly, hesitantly? Would she call him distantly, indifferently? Or would it be in a sweet, well-behaved way? Never had he imagined it would come out so naturally, catching him so completely off guard.

He stepped forward and scooped Olive into his arms, feeling his hands trembling uncontrollably. Holding her tightly, he kissed her little face and asked, his voice tinged with hope,

"Olive, what did you just call me? Can you say it again for me?"

"I called you Daddy!"

Olive tilted her head and giggled as she replied.

"You..."

Albert opened his mouth, but no words came out. Every sentence he wanted to say was suddenly swallowed by the lump forming in his throat, the bittersweet ache overwhelming him.

"Daddy!"

Olive suddenly exclaimed in surprise and reached up with her tiny hand to wipe his face. Her little mouth kept murmuring,

"Daddy, why are you crying?"

She imitated an adult's gestures, gently wiping the corners of his eyes. Her soft, silky hands, like smooth satin, brushed against his weathered cheeks, making his tears flow even harder. Hugging her small body tightly, he repeated over and over,

"Olive, say it a few more times for me!"

His daughter had finally called him "Daddy." This was something he had been yearning for ever since he learned of her existence—no, something he had been longing for with all his heart.

She wasn't just any child; she was the daughter of him and the woman he loved. She was a gift from the heavens. He admitted his hands were stained with blood, and he had never thought he'd have such a beautiful and adorable child. He had believed his life was destined to be filled with suffering.

Olive, obedient and sweet, opened her little mouth and called out again and again in her babyish voice,

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy—"

Looking at her delicate features, so much like her mother's, he thought of how this was the daughter she had borne for him. His heart overflowed with tenderness and joy. Tears streamed down his face as he lifted Olive's tiny body and spun around the small room.

"Olive, Olive, you truly are Daddy's treasure—"

For a while, Olive's cheerful giggles and Albert's deep, joyous laughter echoed through the room.

After playing for a while, Albert set Olive down, and she eagerly ran off to play with her new toys. He sat quietly in a chair nearby, watching her. Before long, the little one grew bored and crawled back to him, nestling into his arms with a pout.

"Daddy, why hasn't Mommy woken up yet?"

Albert held her close and patiently explained,

"Daddy drank too much last night, and Mommy stayed up late taking care of Wilson Daddy, so she's still sleeping now."

Olive nodded thoughtfully, though it was clear she only half-understood.

"Then can I go see Mommy? I miss her..."

"Of course!"

Albert scooped her up and whispered gently,

"But Mommy is still sleeping. Let's be quiet so we don't wake her up, okay?"

"Okay!"

Olive nodded earnestly and then, copying his tone, replied in a soft voice.

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