The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 598

Petty quietly backed out of her messaging app and placed the phone face-down against her chest. Her mind went entirely blank; she refused to entertain a single thought.

Beside her, Abacus shifted in his sleep, kicking his short, chubby legs twice before rolling onto his side, facing away from her. One little hand was propped under his cheek, while the other rested softly on the pillow.

She stared at his perfectly round head. The hair right near the nape of his neck curled inward, soft and fluffy, making him look outrageously cute.

She couldn't resist leaning in, pressing her cheek gently against his, and planting a soft kiss on the crown of his head.

The sleeping boy really was too precious for words—a literal little angel.

Petty took a deep breath, inhaling that sweet, milky scent that clung to his hair.

The house was blissfully quiet. The only sound was the howling winter wind outside the window. The forecast had predicted continuous snowfall from today through tomorrow.

She let out a soft sigh, rising from the bed and walking over to the window.

The lighting in the room was dim. She pulled back a corner of the curtain. From this angle, she could see the side profile of the glass conservatory, but that entire wall was completely overgrown with thick climbing roses. Aside from the dusky pink blooms and dark green leaves, nothing else was visible.

Petty frowned. Franco’s voice echoed mockingly in her ears: I won't show up in front of you unless absolutely necessary.

So why did he want her to go to The Conservatory?

To watch him make a hypocrite of himself?

Yet, five minutes later, Petty found herself standing in front of the glass doors of The Conservatory, her frown deeper than before.

Whatever.

She was already here.

Franco had been watching her through the glass the entire time—from the moment she stood at the door, her brow furrowing and then smoothing out, seemingly talking herself into going through with it.

She had showered and changed. Currently, she was swaddled in a floor-length white puffer coat over her pajamas, the hem revealing just a sliver of pale pink pajama pants. Her hair was swept up into a messy bun.

Her fresh, makeup-free face gave her a remarkably youthful glow. When she pressed her lips together, a faint dimple flickered on her right cheek, making her look incredibly vibrant.

Catching Franco’s dark gaze, Petty pressed her lips tighter together, shuffling up the short steps in her fuzzy slippers.