His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 51

Esther sat at the head of the table. Her silver hair was perfectly coiffed, and her eyes crinkled into warm crescents the moment she spotted Whitley.

"Whitley, come here," Esther called out, her voice brimming with undeniable affection. "Let me look at you."

Whitley’s heart softened. She hurried over and gently linked her arm through the older woman's. "Happy birthday, Esther."

In this sprawling, complicated family, Esther was one of the few who genuinely cared for her. No matter what happened, she always took Whitley’s side. She was one of the rare sources of warmth in an otherwise ice-cold marriage.

Esther patted her hand, looking her up and down with concern. "You look so thin. Is work overwhelming you? Clive really needs to take better care of you."

Glancing at Clive, who stood nearby, Esther smiled. "You're finally back for good, right? No more long-term assignments abroad?"

Clive stepped closer, his posture impeccably straight and his expression mild. "That's still up in the air," he replied smoothly. "But I'll make sure to spend more time with Whitley from now on."

Esther beamed, patting Whitley's hand again. "That’s wonderful. So, when are you two going to give me a great-grandchild?"

The words struck like a physical blow. Whitley's chest tightened instantly. It felt as if an invisible hand had clamped down on her heart, stealing her breath and draining the color from her face.

She instinctively lowered her gaze, letting her long lashes conceal the storm of emotions in her eyes. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She remained silent.

A baby.

It was the one thing she could never have. Every dream she’d ever harbored about motherhood was nothing but a shattered illusion.

She could maintain her composure through almost anything. Anything but this.

Clive and Yelena were already having a baby.

And she was never going to be a mother.

Every sweet moment, every look of devotion she had treasured… it was all just a performance.

She felt like an absolute idiot.

Esther chuckled, lightly tapping Clive's arm. "Oh, stop it. Don't push the blame onto our Whitley just because you're a workaholic."

The older woman turned back to Whitley, her eyes kind but serious. "Tell me the truth, honey. Do you want a baby?"

Whitley's fingers dug into the fabric of her dress.

Of course she did.

She had spent countless nights dreaming of the family they would build together. A quiet, perfect little life.