The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 563

Jackson wept tears of joy.

General stared up at Petty, tongue lolling, his tail wagging a mile a minute.

Watching the mother and son embrace, Jay's expression softened. If his younger brother, Ned, were here, he would have instantly recognized that Jay was in a great mood.

The staff and security team at Misty Vale all felt a palpable shift in the atmosphere. For a long time, the estate had felt hollow. Even when Abacus was brought back, it hadn't fully patched the gaping hole in the household.

Today, it was finally whole.

Raw, genuine emotion radiated from everyone in the room.

Everyone except Franco, who stood frozen in place.

The tempest raging inside him was violently suppressed. The desperate, clawing yearning that had taken root in his soul threatened to shatter his composure, leaving a raw, bloodshot redness in his eyes.

The normally cold, self-possessed man was blinking back the sting of tears.

He didn't step forward. He didn't speak. He just stood there quietly, staring at the woman in the Santa Claus suit.

It was as if he was terrified that the slightest movement would make her vanish into thin air.

She was back. That was all that mattered.

Petty stood up, wrapping her arms securely around Abacus and hugging him tight.

The little boy clung to her neck, resting his chin on her shoulder. His short legs kicked happily in the air as if they might fly off. He was beyond thrilled.

"Mama, hehe!"

He tilted his head back to look at Petty, as if needing to verify she was really there. Once she smiled back, he contentedly dropped his head back onto her shoulder.

A moment later, he looked up again, his sweet, milky voice calling out, "Mama!"

"Yes, baby!"

Everyone here loved Abacus and took meticulous care of him, but she knew exactly who had shouldered the hardest burden of all.

She looked over at Franco, her gaze calm and steady.

Since it was Christmas and the weekend, he was dressed casually. His black cashmere sweater was haphazardly decorated with several cartoon stickers. She didn't need to guess who had put them there.

He looked a little thinner. It was the same striking face, yet something about him felt fundamentally different.

"You've worked hard," she said, her clear voice breaking the silence.

Franco's Adam's apple Bobbed slowly. When he spoke, his voice was tight and gravelly. "I haven't."

He had always been a master at masking his true feelings. Shifting instantly into the polite tone of an old acquaintance, he asked, "Have you had dinner?"

Petty nodded. She adjusted Abacus in her arms, gently squeezing the toddler's chubby little hand, and kept her reply perfectly polite. "Yes, I've eaten."