Jude’s POV
My cheeks burned hot when Timothy asked that question, and I ducked my head to conceal the shy smile tugging at my lips.
Sensing another presence, Harlow spun around and spotted . "Mama!" She bounced excitedly and rushed toward , her face lighting up. "Mama, are you okay? Did the queen get mad at you?" Her eyes searched mine with worry.
I quickly shook my head. "No, sweetheart. The queen wasn’t angry with at all," I assured her, stroking her soft hair.
"Then why did it take forever? And why couldn’t I co in?" Harlow raised both arms, silently requesting to be lifted.
I crouched down and scooped her into my arms. "We were discussing grown-up matters that children shouldn’t hear."
"But why?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.
"Because it’s adult talk."
"But why?"
I sighed internally. Harlow was going through that phase where she questioned absolutely everything, and I always tried to answer her patiently.
Noticing my predicant, Timothy stepped closer and jumped into our conversation, offering to help field Harlow’s endless stream of questions.
"Hey, look at this gorgeous necklace," Timothy said, gesturing to the makeshift jewelry he’d crafted earlier, clearly trying to redirect Harlow’s attention.
"That’s not gorgeous at all," Harlow giggled.
"What’s your opinion?" Timothy’s gaze found mine, making lower my head as heat flooded my face again.
"It’s... nice," I mumbled bashfully. Obviously, there was nothing remotely nice about the awful necklace Timothy had created, so Harlow imdiately contradicted .
"Mama, that necklace is hideous."
We ended up spending the entire afternoon chatting about everything and nothing, with Timothy sharing childhood stories he rembered from his own youth.
I watched him make a ntal reminder to learn more children’s tales after today.
"Don’t you have work to do?" I asked, since Timothy had been hanging around with Harlow and for quite a while.
"Don’t you want here?" Timothy gave such a pitiful look that I imdiately panicked, frantically waving my hands to prevent any misunderstanding.
"No... No, that’s not what I ant..." I stamred quickly, but Timothy just chuckled at my flustered response.
"I’m just teasing." Timothy ruffled my hair naturally, as though he’d done it countless tis before. He grinned when Harlow skipped over with two flowers clutched in her tiny fists. We were still in the greenhouse with no intention of leaving, despite it being well past lunchti.
"These are for you both." Harlow presented the flowers to Timothy and , beaming and showing her little teeth as happiness radiated from her.
"Thank you, sweetheart." Timothy planted a kiss on Harlow’s cheek, which delighted her. She wrapped herself around Timothy and began explaining the flowers she held and what they were called.
I could tell Timothy already knew the flower nas, but he listened to her explanation with genuine interest.
"I’m starving," Harlow announced, gazing up at Timothy. "I want at."
"Harlow." I imdiately nudged my daughter, reminding her to mind her manners, but Timothy shook his head, signaling that it was perfectly fine.
"Absolutely, let’s go find so at."
Timothy lifted her up and spun her small body around until Harlow was laughing hysterically, looking completely joyful, though I felt a stab of worry.
"What’s wrong?" Timothy asked when he caught the expression on my face. "Sothing troubling you?"
"You just recovered - you shouldn’t be lifting her." I extended my arms. "Co here, Mama will carry you."
To my shock, Harlow tightened her grip around Timothy’s neck. "I want him to carry , Mama. He’s stronger than you. He can spin around."
My face heated up again. "Mama can spin you too."
Harlow shook her head firmly. "No, Mama can’t spin because you’ll hurt your back."
"No, I won’t." I widened my eyes, trying to signal my daughter to stop talking, but Harlow continued anyway.
"That an man hit your back, and ever since then you have back problems. I hate that man." Harlow nestled her face into the curve of Timothy’s shoulder.
"Which man?" Timothy’s voice dropped to a dangerous, deep tone. He froze mid-step, and I could feel the deadly intent radiating from him.
"It was nothing..." I stamred slightly.
"Which man?" Timothy repeated the question, his eyes boring into mine as I dropped my head to hide my face. Harlow was the one who answered him. "A man, a huge man. He ca to our house and hurt and Mama. He was really big." Harlow lifted her head to look at Timothy. "He was as big as you... no, you’re a little bigger."
"What happened next?" Timothy fought to maintain his composure and not let his rage explode.
"He threw out of our house and locked the door with Mama trapped inside."
Harlow only shared what she witnessed from her child’s perspective, but I knew Timothy could read between the lines of what happened after.
I felt like I was about to have a heart attack. I had been so relieved that Timothy was willing to accept my daughter and that she wouldn’t create problems between us.
But now Harlow had brought up that horrible nightmare again. Even though she didn’t share the graphic details - and there was no way I would ever explain those to her - it still felt like a brutal slap across my face.
Harlow only knew that I was beaten behind that locked door, but Timothy understood what ca after that.
I wanted to disappear right then and there. The sha was overwhelming. I didn’t want Timothy to rember how filthy I was, how unworthy of him I’d beco.
"Mama, why are you crying?" Harlow reached out her arms, but I had already fled.
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