Shattered Vows: Call Me Auntie Now novel Chapter 32

He had only worn that basketball jersey once for an art class activity, and it had been sitting in his closet ever since.

While Quinn knew outdoor activities were crucial for a child's development, her constant fear of him tripping and getting hurt meant she rarely let him play outside.

Seeing how ecstatic he was right now, she made a silent promise to encourage more physical play from now on.

Before she realized it, Raymond was standing right in front of her.

His dark hair was slightly damp with sweat at the temples. The usual icy aura he carried was completely melted away, replaced by the rugged, intoxicating magnetism of a man fresh from a workout.

A drop of sweat traced the strong line of his neck, highlighting the faint pulse of a vein. His large hands, effortlessly holding the ball, seemed to exude a raw, endless strength.

Quinn spoke from the heart. "Thank you!"

The man simply gave her a cool nod, walking right past her to pour himself a glass of water, making sure to pour a lukewarm cup for Leo as well.

"You just ran around. Drink up."

Quinn was about to ask Lydia to fetch Leo's specific sippy cup, but before she could speak, the little boy tilted his head back and chugged the entire disposable cup of water in one go.

Quinn was stunned all over again.

Leo had always been intensely obsessive over his personal items—his bottle, his cup, his specific stuffed animals...

If anyone tried to give him water in anything other than his designated cup, he would throw a massive tantrum and refuse to drink, no matter how thirsty he was.

Since Raymond had arrived, she noticed these tiny, miraculous shifts in her son's behavior.

Was his condition actually improving?

Unable to suppress her rising hope, she immediately called the clinic and booked an appointment for the very next day.

The specialist had given her a grim warning: if they allowed this closed-off, avoidant attachment to fester, he was highly likely to develop severe autistic tendencies and total social regression.

Since that day, Quinn had treated these therapy sessions like a religion, bringing Leo in every single week.

But for three grueling months, the progress had been practically non-existent.

The pediatric therapy room was warm and inviting, covered in cartoon murals and overflowing with toys.

Dr. Harper didn't wear a clinical white coat; her smile was radiant and soothing, and all the kids adored her.

Quinn smiled at the doctor, then gently brushed Leo's bangs aside. "Be a good boy, Leo. Have a nice chat with Dr. Harper today, okay?"

Dressed in a soft white t-shirt, Leo stood quietly next to his mother and gave a small nod. "Okay."

Instantly, Dr. Harper noticed the drastic change!