Chapter 111 You Shouldn't Have Come Back

John stood next to Patricia, tears streaming down his face. "What took Mr. Spencer so long to tell us he was alive? Talk about making us worry!"

"Totally. George is being so thoughtless," Thalia pouted from the side.

Damon shot Thalia a look. "George must have his reasons. Quit stirring the pot."

"Damon, you always blame me," Thalia snapped back.

As they waited, Patricia was a bundle of nerves, while Damon stayed cool as a cucumber. "Don't worry, they'll be here soon."

"Damon, why is my heart racing? He's been gone for over a year. Is he hurt? Has he changed? What has he been through? I’m so worried," Patricia said, her voice trembling.

Damon stayed calm. He knew George too well. As long as George was alive, he could handle anything. If George were an animal, he'd be a lion, a lone hunter.

"Patricia, come sit down," Damon called to her.

Patricia glanced anxiously at the door before sitting back down. "They left the airport already. Why is it taking so long?"

"George is fine. You should be thinking about Isabella now," Damon said.

Mentioning Isabella made Patricia uneasy. 'I've been good to Isabella, but no matter the reasons, she shouldn't have left without a word,' she thought.

"What do you think I should do?" she asked.

"I heard she had a baby?" Damon looked at Patricia.

Patricia rubbed her temples. "This is what's been worrying me."

"What's there to be worry about? You’ve been wanting a grandchild, and now that you have one, you're hesitating," Damon said.

"It's just..." Patricia felt conflicted.

"Let bygones be bygones. Young people make mistakes. If George doesn't mind, we shouldn't either."

"I understand." Patricia took Damon's advice to heart. As an elder, she knew she had to be lenient.

Finally, the ornate black gates of Spencer Manor slowly opened.

John was the most excited. Despite his age, he was still spry and dashed out immediately. "Mr. Spencer!"

George opened the car door, and before he could steady himself, John had thrown himself into his arms. "Mr. Spencer, it's so good to see you alive."

George gently patted John's back. "I'm fine."

"Mr. Spencer, since you disappeared, Mrs. Patricia Spencer has been crying every day, almost losing the will to live. Thank goodness you're alive," John said.

"I'll go see her."

John led the way, and George opened the other car door as Isabella got out with Frederick in her arms.

He took her hand, and Isabella hesitated. "Do you think Patricia is still mad at me?"

"You gave me a child. What reason does she have to be mad?" George said, holding her hand as they walked in.

Patricia and Damon stood at the door, and seeing George safe and sound, Patricia burst into tears, thinking, 'After the car accident, even though he became a vegetable, I could still see him every day. But with George gone for a year, I thought I would never see him again.'

"Mom," George gently hugged Patricia.

Damon patted George on the shoulder. "Your mom was worried sick."

Damon's eyes landed on Isabella holding Frederick, who was just too cute for words. "Sweetheart, let me hold him."

Damon took Frederick from Isabella, and the little guy, not shy at all, was totally fascinated by Damon's mustache, reaching out to touch it with his tiny hands.

Patricia wiped her tears and looked at Isabella. "You've had a rough time."

After George "died," Caleb had told her that Isabella was pregnant. Patricia was actually grateful that Isabella had kept George's child.

"Patricia, are you feeling alright?" Isabella asked.

"Good, and even better now that I see you all." Patricia watched Damon play with six-month-old Frederick, itching to hold him. "Let me hold him."

Frederick, not afraid of strangers, reached out to Patricia after being held by Damon.

With the adorable Frederick in her arms, all of Patricia's awkwardness and discomfort vanished. She even felt grateful that Isabella had given her such a beautiful grandson.

Damon and George were discussing company matters as Isabella sat alone, still feeling uneasy.

'After so long, being back here, why do I still feel oppressed? Maybe I am not cut out to be the hostess of a wealthy family,' Isabella thought.

"You shouldn't have come back," Thalia said, arms crossed, standing in front of her.

Isabella looked up indifferently, not wanting to engage.

Thalia continued relentlessly, "Don't you see that you're bad luck for George? If it weren't for you, how could George have had an accident?"

Isabella sneered, "It's none of your business."

"None of my business? If I'm an outsider, what are you?" Thalia shouted.

"Thalia," Isabella stood up, walking slowly but steadily towards her, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you. This is the Spencer Manor, not the Baker Manor."

"You!" Thalia fumed.

"I'm really tired." Isabella yawned, ready to go upstairs to rest.

"Isabella!"

Isabella turned and smiled, gesturing for her to be quiet.

Back in the room, Isabella felt a mix of unfamiliarity and nostalgia.

The light blue curtains, the white window screens, and the feeling of surviving a disaster made the bedroom seem beautiful.

"What are you thinking about?" George hugged her waist from behind.

Isabella smiled. "Nothing."

"Patricia just said she's very grateful to you."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Grateful to me?"

"She said she's grateful you gave the Spencer family such a beautiful baby," he explained.

"She probably added that Frederick looks just like you when you were little, right?" Isabella snorted, thinking loving Frederick was just because he reminded Patricia of George as a child.

"She didn't say that," he said.

"George, if I ever have a conflict with Patricia, whose side would you take?" she asked.

"Yours."

"I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself."

Isabella's lips curved into a satisfied smile, and George smiled too.

George kissed her neck, gently at first, then more passionately. She half-heartedly resisted before they ended up on the bed.

In the daylight, they made love passionately for two hours.