The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 597

The guest list for Abacus’s second birthday party was intentionally small, but everyone in attendance had deep ties to Franco, Petty, and the birthday boy himself.

Because of this, the atmosphere in the dining room was warm and familiar. After some initial stiffness, the medical staff relaxed, and soon the room was filled with easy laughter and conversation.

The man of the hour, Abacus, sat in the center of the table. Franco and Petty flanked him on either side. Naturally, Hans took the seat right next to Petty.

As he sat down beside her, Hans shot a smug, defiant smirk across the table at Franco, who was glaring at him.

Once the meal began, Hans casually started piling food onto Petty’s plate, completely ignoring everyone else.

It was a habit they’d shared since kindergarten. Back then, Hans had been a picky eater and would dump all his unwanted vegetables onto her plate, cupping her face and grinning. Petty, you look like a cute little bunny when you eat greens!

Of course, he didn't just give her vegetables. He also made sure she got the best cuts of meat.

"Stop serving me, it's turning into a mountain," Petty whispered, nudging him.

Hans glanced down. Okay, it was getting a bit tall, but he brushed it off. "It's fine. I've got an empty plate right here. You need to eat more. You've lost weight since you came back."

Petty pressed her lips together. "I've only been back for two days."

"Don't believe me?" Hans dropped another piece of meat onto her pile. "Go weigh yourself later and tell me I'm wrong."

Just then, a large, elegant hand slid a small saucer onto the table just to Petty’s left, nudging it slightly closer to her.

It was a beautifully deboned piece of fish.

Petty's eyelashes fluttered, but she didn't turn her head to the left, nor did she reach for the fish. Instead, she kept her head down and continued eating.

"Eat it while it's hot. It won't taste good cold."

Franco’s deep, velvety voice drifted over Abacus's head, slipping straight into her ear.

Petty paused her fork. She turned her head to the left, looking at the high chair where Abacus was diligently shoveling food into his mouth.

She picked up the saucer of deboned fish and placed it right in front of her son.

"Be a good boy, baby. Eat up."

Completely oblivious to the tension, Abacus eyed the fish, scooped it up with his spoon, and babbled sweetly, "Tank you, Mama."

He stuffed the fish into his mouth, chewed aggressively, and swallowed. "Yummy!"

Petty patted his perfectly round head, her voice light and steady. "You should be thanking your dad."

Abacus, his mouth covered in a shiny layer of grease, tipped his chubby chin up and looked at Franco. "Tank you, Dada."

Galen smirked into his drink.

"Why does this feel like a peasant thanking the king for a crumb of bread?"

Franco shot him a lethal glare.

Galen's smirk froze. "Look at you, getting defensive again."

Franco looked down at his own flesh and blood. He grabbed a napkin from the table and began wiping the grease from the boy’s face, catching Petty just as she reached for her own napkin. "Eat your food," he told her flatly. "I can handle him."