Love You Enough to Leave You novel Chapter 91

Tell me what you’re craving; I’ll buy it for you.” Oscar’s cool tone belied his apparent discomfort. Amelia couldn’t believe her ears. This was Oscar’s first time showing concern for her baby. “Mr. Clinton, are you actually concerned about me?” Amelia asked in disbelief. “Enough of that. Tell me, quickly, what you want to eat,” Oscar insisted. Amelia found the situation hilarious. Oscar seemed a lot more human now in comparison to the guarded, defensive man he usually was. “Since you’ve offered, I can’t possibly say no. All right then. On account of Mr. Clinton’s generosity, I’d like to order a pasta arrabbiata, stewed beef, and mango sorbet to top it all off… I’m spoilt for choice! How can I decide?”

Amelia asked in exaggerated despair. Seeing that Oscar had let her off the hook for the matter with the photographs, the sudden feeling of liberation dared Amelia to joke with Oscar, something she seldom did. Oscar only glared at her. “Amelia, don’t go overboard.” “Don’t be so petty, Mr. Clinton. Can’t you even bear to buy these for me?” Amelia wheedled, pouting. Oscar realized that he rather liked seeing this feminine side of Amelia. “Wait and see; I’ll buy it all for you. Anything else?” he queried. “I want you. Can I have that?” Amelia asked playfully. Oscar’s face once again assumed a sober look. “You’re only allowed to say such things to me in the future. I forbid you from flirting with any other man like that.”

Flirting? Amelia thought she had merely been casually teasing Oscar. She was rather distressed that it had been seen as flirtatious. It seemed that everyone perceived things rather differently indeed. “Since you object, Mr. Clinton, I won’t say things like that anymore,” Amelia said, sulking. Oscar grit his teeth in frustration. “You…” Amelia held her belly and opened her eyes wide, beseeching Oscar in a cutesy tone, “Mr. Clinton, I’m hungry.” “All right, hang on. I’ll go and buy it for you now,” Oscar replied as he headed towards the door. “Mr. Clinton,” Amelia’s cry stopped Oscar in his tracks. Turning around, he asked, “What is it?”

“Mr. Clinton, I’m bored. I didn’t bring my phone with me to the hospital. Can I borrow yours to play with?” Amelia pleaded. Oscar hesitated for a moment, then handed his phone to Amelia. “The password’s your birthdate.” Surprised, Amelia looked at him. She refused to believe that that was his chosen password. Oscar cleared his throat awkwardly, then said, “There are a couple of games inside. You can take a look if you’re bored. I’ll be off, then.” He turned quickly on his heels and left the room. Amelia was still looking at his phone in shock. She muttered to herself, “Oscar, if you truly didn’t care for me, then why did you use my birthdate as your password? Don’t you know what kind of hope that raises in me?

What if I can’t bear to let you go when it’s time for the divorce?” Amelia’s emotions were in complete turmoil. On the one hand, she didn’t want to get a divorce. On the other, Amelia was afraid that they eventually would, and Oscar would take her baby away regardless of what he had promised her. Oscar, I think I’ve really fallen for you. If I could, I would want to depend on you for the rest of my life. I want a real relationship with you, not just a transactional one. Amelia gingerly looked at Oscar’s phone, then opened his photo album. As she scrolled through it, she realized to her surprise that it contained many photos of her, most of them taken when she was sleeping. In a few, a single blanket covered her bare body; in others, she had fallen asleep fully clothed.

The photos of Amelia numbered more than a thousand in sheer variety. It was completely unlike the Oscar she knew to have so many photos of Amelia. Amelia took to examining them. Oscar had taken some from behind her as she walked ahead. Amelia could barely even recall when these moments had taken place, let alone presented any opportunities in which Oscar had taken such flattering photographs of her. Amelia’s eyes grew moist. She’d always believed that Oscar liked her solely for her body. If he had absolutely no other feelings for her, however, then what could explain this stash of Amelia’s photos?

Amelia was willing to bet anything she had that a man who had no affection whatsoever for her would not possess so many photos of her. It was like a carefully curated gallery of art. As Amelia went through each photo, she realized with a start that there were barely ten photos of Cassie. Besides a few snapshots of scenery scattered here and there, the rest of Oscar’s photo album was practically a shrine to Amelia. Amelia felt incredibly perturbed. As she weighed Oscar’s phone in her hand, she mumbled, “Oscar, all the photos you have are of me. Doesn’t that mean that you don’t hate me too much? Why can’t we spend the rest of our lives together, then? Just then, an incoming call jolted Amelia out of her brief reverie.

Cassie’s name flashed across the screen. Upon seeing it, Amelia’s heart immediately plummeted. She hesitated for a while, then picked up. Cassie’s excited chatter floated across the line. “Oz, I went for a check-up with your secretary today. The doctor said that the baby’s very healthy.” A note of betrayal crept into her voice. “You promised that you’d come with me, but you’re always so occupied with work! I said that I’d be a model wife so I won’t blame you this time. Oz, the baby and I both miss you so much! Will you be coming over tonight?” Amelia’s hand clutched the blanket. She bit her lip with such fury that it almost drew blood. With what strength she could muster, Amelia said evenly, “Sorry, Ms. Yard, it’s Amelia.