Chapter 134: Chapter 134

The Black Swan's Final Revenge Pirouette: The 99th Game Was Mine All Along by Kylie HommeWords: 4964

Chapter 134 They criticized him for being a home wrecker, burning him with pure hatred. A sharp tingle rushed across my body as I dreaded Bright’s reaction.

“Gosh! He must be regretting meeting me!”

Bright adjusted Jane’s tiny fingers around the paintbrush, his voice gentle yet firm.

“Hold it like this, princess. Steady hands make the best strokes.”

Jane’s face scrunched up in concentration as she tried again. When she finally got it right, she clapped her hands, leaving a smudgy rainbow print on Bright’s sleeve.

Instead of scolding her, Bright grinned like a fool. “Look at that! My shirt is now officially a masterpiece!”

Jane giggled, her laughter filling the room with warmth. “You’re the best, Daddy!”

I leaned against the doorframe, my chest tightening at the sight.

“We are a great team, my princess. Your teacher will like your painting.

Jane wiped her face, and more color was smeared on her cheek, she giggled happily.

“You helped me a lot, daddy. I couldn’t do it without you.”

She told him how I was used to working on her drawing projects with her, “Usually, mommy helps me with my homework. But you are the best, daddy. I love you “I love you too, my princess!”

Bright noticed me standing by the door, he broke my trance by waving his hand in the air, “You are up, Laura? Great!

Come and see our princess’s drawing. She is an artist!”

A booming smile glowed my face with contentment as I sat with Bright and saw the painting. Jane had beautifully drawn a cottage in a flowery meadow. She spoke delightedly, Chapter 134 “My teacher asked us to draw our dream house This is where I want to live, mommy.”

Her fairy tale inspired home was the much–needed distraction for me, I could picture myself with Bright in this house. I rested my head on his shoulder as my little girl left to wash her hands, “I am so sorry that you have to go through all this, Bright!”

My heartfelt apology tensed him; he groaned in frustration.

“So, you read other people’s nonsense instead of resting. Laura, don’t be careless, your health is important.”

Bright seemed unbothered by the public lash out, giving me a lecture about my inner peace. I grasped his hand and asked, “Aren’t you offended that those netizens bashed you just because of our relationship? You can have an easy, drama–free life without me, Bright.”

“Why are you thinking like that?” Bright spoke at once, “I love you, Laura. And these aren’t just three words, but a life–long commitment. I have promised to stay by your side in every thick and thin, these minor setbacks can’t alter my life choices.”

In the storm of powerful opposition, Bright was my anchor, he comforted me with great consideration.

“You are a good mother, who preferred her son’s wellbeing over anything else. That’s the woman I adore and wish to spend my life with.

So, please take a rest and start a new day with a clean slate. We’ll go out for dinner after my- match tomorrow.”

Jane was in seventh heaven to hear about the outing, she was badly missing Bright’s surprises. So, I promised to pick her up after ice hockey practice and went to the office in the morning. As expected, everyone gossiped and gave me weird stares due to the court’s \verdict, but I couldn’t care less.

I concentrated on my work, looking forward to Bright’s match. His love was enough for me to survive.

However, there was a sharp arrow plunged in my heart, hurting me with Zoe’s name. continuously. I was yearning to see a glimpse of my son’s cute face. He didn’t spend much time with me, but he wasn’t different from Jane More precisely, I loved him more because of our t past.

A prayer emerged from the depths of my heart as I thought about him, “Please bless a mother’s heart. I wish to see my son.”

A sudden pounding on the door shattered the quiet.

Before I could react, the door swung open with force, and a tiny figure rushed inside, barefoot, trembling, and sobbing uncontrollably “Mommy!”

My vision blurred. My legs moved before my mind could catch up, and in seconds, I was on my knees, arms wrapping tightly around the small, quivering body of my son.

“Zoe–oh my God, Zoe!” My hands frantically ran over his face, brushing away the streaks of hot tears. His forehead was burning.

“Are you hurt, Zoe? Is everything alright?”

His elevated body temperature sucked the very breath from my mouth, Zoe was burning with fever. A panicked voice answered my queries as I cleaned his face and fed him water.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind us. I snapped my head up to see Leo standing at the doorway, his shirt wrinkled, hair disheveled, and eyes rimmed with exhaustion.

In his hands was Zoe’s small school bag. He looked at me, then at the boy in my arms, and let out a shaky breath.

“What should I do, Laura?” His voice was hoarse, broken. “He won’t eat, won’t sleep... he just keeps calling for you.”