Chapter 4 Worry

"Oh my! It's Mrs. Frost!" The man sitting next to Peyton got up, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. "Finally, you’re here. We were just worrying about him." He opened the door to the small resting room on the left. Inside, Alaric lay on a narrow bed, his shirt wrinkled, his face flushed from alcohol. "It’s all my fault," the man said sheepishly. "I overdid it, and now he's passed out drunk. Was it you who called earlier?" He looked at her apologetically. "His phone fell, and we made you worry, didn’t we?" Calista smiled politely. "How careless of you." The man seemed a little uncomfortable. "The guys who helped him are clumsy. Anyway, have a seat. He should wake up soon." Instead of sitting, Calista exchanged pleasantries with them before stepping inside to check on Alaric. She asked the server to bring some honey water and tended to him briefly. When she returned to the table, Peyton had moved to another seat. Calista sat in Alaric's chair, her fingers brushing against his jacket. It carried a faint, delicate fragrance—a woman’s perfume. Her eyes moved to Peyton, filled with questions. Has something intimate happened between them? Or has Alaric lent her his jacket? Once suspicion took root, it was hard to shake. Calista felt foolish for doubting him but couldn’t help herself. Noticing Calista's gaze, Peyton looked uneasy. "Dr. Calista, is there something on my face?" Calista smiled faintly. "I was just thinking how small this world is. How are you feeling?" The men around the table seemed surprised the two women knew each other, and the atmosphere grew slightly awkward. Just then, Alaric stirred in the resting room and sat up, holding his head. He looked startled to see her. "What are you doing here?" "I saw your missed calls and got worried, so I came," she replied casually. "How are you feeling? Still uncomfortable?" Alaric shook his head and walked over to her. "I'm fine, just had a little too much to drink." He sat beside her and introduced her to the group with ease. "This is my wife, Calista." The man from earlier started teasing them. "Look at Mr. Frost now, acting all proud! Back in school, he didn’t even glance at the girls. Only... that one girl could talk to him. Now he’s like a lovesick puppy, even drunk and calling his wife’s name!" Calista caught the phrase. That one girl? Could it have been Peyton? "When’s the wedding banquet? Or should we expect a baby’s one-month celebration soon?" Alaric’s hand on her shoulder paused briefly before he calmly replied, "No rush. A baby will come when it’s meant to." Calista smiled at him. "And if it happens? Would you be happy?" Alaric hesitated for a moment. "Of course." Then he smiled and added, "But you’re so busy with work. Preparing for a baby now would be exhausting. You need to rest and take care of yourself first." Calista’s fingers brushed against her bag, where the pregnancy test report lay hidden. After three years of marriage, she knew Alaric well. He was practical and solution-oriented. If he truly wanted a child, he would suggest concrete plans, like taking time off to focus on pregnancy. Instead, his answer pushed the idea back into the realm of if. He wasn’t ready to face the possibility. Calista nodded lightly, playing along. Peyton, meanwhile, remained silent, staring at her plate. The reunion stretched into the late night, though Alaric refrained from drinking further. After saying goodbye to the others, Calista noticed Alaric glancing uneasily at his phone as they approached the car. Pausing, she caught a glimpse of the screen. It was a chat window filled with messages from the other party. Alaric hadn’t responded to any of them, but it was clear he had read every word. When he noticed her glance, he quickly locked the screen and asked nonchalantly, "What’s wrong?" "Just tired," she replied, pretending not to have noticed. "The driver will be here soon," he said. During the ride, Alaric continued checking his phone. Calista didn’t ask. It felt pointless. Overthinking would only drain her further. Either she trusted him, or she waited for him to come clean. Testing and questioning would only lead to frustration. If he wanted to keep secrets, she couldn’t force the truth out of him. By the time they got home, it was 1 a.m. After showering, Calista emerged to find Alaric just coming in. He had changed into pajamas, his damp hair suggesting he’d just taken a shower. Still, she caught a faint trace of cigarette smoke clinging to him. Had he been smoking in the study again? Is it because of Peyton? Or is it work-related stress? She pretended not to notice and climbed into bed. "Let’s rest early tonight." The room darkened as Alaric turned off the lights. He leaned over, caging her in his arms, and kissed her forehead. "Calista," he murmured. As she looked up, his lips captured hers. His hand slid to her waist, moving upward and sending a shiver through her. Her body tensed as his touch grew warmer. "Weren’t you drunk earlier?" she asked. "I’m awake now," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Maybe we should think about having a baby. My parents have been asking." Calista’s fingers instinctively covered her abdomen. His kisses deepened, his embrace tightening. "Alaric," she said, pressing against his chest. But he ignored her protests, his actions growing more insistent. "I’m tired tonight," she said firmly. He froze, sweat rolling down his forehead as his expression turned unreadable. Gently wrapping his arms around her, he asked softly, "Did something happen?" Warm breath tickled her ear, but her skin prickled with unease. Turning her head slightly, she replied, "Nothing. It’s just been non-stop surgeries, and I haven’t had a break. I’m exhausted." Alaric smiled, the tension in his body easing. "You’ve been working too hard. You should take a proper rest." "That pregnant woman you brought in the other day," Calista said lightly, "seemed to be considering termination. She’s in a tough spot. She even asked me to perform the surgery." Alaric’s grip on her waist tightened instantly. "No." "Hmm?" She looked at him, puzzled. "Why such a strong reaction?" Alaric opened his mouth but hesitated. "Thinking about us having a baby soon makes it feel... wrong." Calista studied him intently. "But she said the baby’s father doesn’t want the child." Alaric fell silent. Turning away, Calista said, "Let’s sleep." Alaric lay beside her in silence. Though they shared the same bed, it felt like they were miles apart. For the first time, Calista felt an unsettling distance between them. By morning, Alaric was already gone. As she prepared to head downstairs for breakfast, her phone rang. It was from her mother, Vixen. Vixen’s panicked voice came through. "Calista! Your father—he’s had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital!" Calista's father was called Daxton.