The Best Revenge It Wasn't Even Your Child novel Chapter 351

As Catherine reached up to open the car door, her dress brushed tightly against her body. The gentle curve of her belly was impossible to miss.

Lance's eyes drifted down and landed on her stomach. Some strange mix of emotion welled up inside him, impossible to put into words.

“Are you okay to get up? Let me help,” he offered.

Catherine bent forward, half her body inside the car, trying to steady him. He shifted away, just enough to avoid her hand.

“I’ve got it,” he said quietly.

Catherine straightened and stepped to the side. Lance climbed out of the car, his steps slightly shaky as he made his way toward the house.

She quickly closed the car door, fished out her keys, and hurried ahead to unlock the front door before he reached it.

“There are slippers here...” she said, bending down to get them from the cabinet.

Before she could grab a pair, she felt Lance’s cool hand close around her wrist. He crouched down, opened the cabinet himself, and took out the slippers.

Catherine pulled her hand back and stood up, rubbing her wrist free from his gentle hold.

“I’ll get you something to eat. Take your medicine after,” she told him, heading straight for the kitchen.

She warmed up the porridge Lorinda had left behind. When she returned, Lance was already sitting at the dining table.

“Lance, you eat first. I’ll go upstairs and get your room ready,” she said, setting the bowl in front of him and handing him a spoon.

“I’ll take care of it myself later,” Lance replied, eating with slow, measured movements.

“No, let me do it for you.” Catherine’s voice was polite, almost distant, treating him like a boss she didn’t dare upset.

Her careful, almost formal attitude made Lance’s frown deepen. It was like she had built a wall between them.

“Your boss is a real person, not some cold-blooded machine. I don’t make a habit of waking my pregnant employees in the middle of the night to do chores for me,” he said. His voice was heavy and filled the whole room.

The air grew tense. Catherine figured he must still be upset about what she’d told Lorinda—that he was just trouble.

There wasn’t much to fix up on the second floor anyway. She’d already cleaned after Lorinda moved out.

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