The Runaway Groom
Chapter 1003

A woman's voice? Who was it?

Irene asked tentatively, “I'm looking for Zachary Slate."

"Oh, he's having a shower," the woman on the other end replied.

Irene was speechless for a moment. "Okay. Just tell him to call me back when he's done—"

The woman cut her short before she could finish. “Actually, I think he'll be busy..."

Irene frowned so hard her brows almost knitted together.

Did that woman think she was in a relationship with Zachary and was trying to assert dominance?

“Look, I'm not his girlfriend—we're just friends, and there's something we need to talk about, that's all," Irene explained. “Tell him to call me back."

With that, she hung up and dropped on the couch, feeling bemused. Was that how he was going to get over being dumped? By messing around with women?

Her baby pulled her hair just then, and Irene patted him in return, returning her focus to playing with her baby.

He had been walking steadily these days, although he had often tripped on his first steps.

“You're the best, baby," she said, carrying him and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Tommy entered the living room after dinner, and he blinked as he saw Irene shower his baby brother with affection. He thought to himself that although the kid was leading a life of bliss at the moment, he would not escape the fate of having to study as well.

He dropped on the couch, and Irene eyed him. "Are you actually getting tired from dinner?" sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"From studying,” Tommy replied.

"And? Did you remember what you studied?" Irene asked.

Tommy snorted a little proudly. "Why not? It's not that hard."

Tut, tut... That tone!

Irene then asked, "Roses are...?"

"Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you," Tommy promptly replied.

Irene continued. "Snow."

“There's a patch of old snow in a corner, that I should have guessed, as a blow-away paper the rain had brought to rest," Tommy recited smoothly and with perfect pronunciation.

Irene nodded in stratification—the poems she had Tommy memorize were ordered according to difficulty.

“Let's hope you keep doing your best," she said. "Since you did well today, you have no homework tonight.”

"Yippee!" Tommy skipped around happily, and Irene smiled in turn at his happiness.

It was late, so Irene started to coax her baby to sleep, while Tommy basically could do everything himself these days—he would even insist on washing up himself before climbing into bed although he was just a child.

Irene patted his little head. "Do you think Mommy is too strict?"

"I like being with you, Mommy." Tommy threw himself into her arms— even if it was hard work, he was happy having her around.

Irene lay down with him in her arms. "That was how I learned so much when I was a kid too."

Tommy nodded. "Okay."

“If you don't have knowledge or culture, you would be empty,” Irene continued. "I hope you'll be better than your daddy and me when you're older."

Tommy nodded again, though there was no telling if he got it.

Irene gently patted his bed to coax him to sleep while he lay on her chest, reveling in her warmth.

After he fell asleep in such comfort, Irene gently put him down and made sure he was not waking up before tucking him in and tiptoeing out of the room.

She returned to her room and applied scar removal cream over the bullet wound on her shoulder, since it would look ugly if she did not use it.

She then heard the door open.

It must be Zachary at this hour, right?

She straightened her clothes before opening the door...

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