We Want Mommy, Not You, Daddy!
Chapter 199
Cedar’s POV
5
After the emotional turmoil of that night, the following days passed
in an unnatural quiet. My phone remained silent, my apartment peaceful. It was as if the Sterling family had vanished from the face of
the earth.
The two months of chaos they’d brought to my life began to feel like.
some strange dream.
Finally, Saturday arrived–the day I’d promised to accompany Ridley
and Aria to the doctor. I arrived at the hospital entrance thirty
minutes early, anxiously scanning the street until a familiar black car
pulled up.
Ridley emerged, carrying Aria in his arms.
The usually withdrawn child’s eyes lit up when she saw me. She
wiggled free from her father’s grip and launched herself into my
arms, whispering, “Mommy.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, lifting her up. “You feel heavier! Have you
been eating all your meals?”
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Aria’s lips twitched in a tiny smile. “Food doesn’t taste good without
you.”
I blinked in surprise. When had my quiet little girl learned to say such
sweet things? She sounded almost like Oliver.
Ridley approached, his expression unreadable as always. “We should
go in.”
We walked side by side into the hospital, Aria in my arms and Ridley
slightly beside and behind me, his presence protective and solid. I
noticed passersby watching us, some smiling, others whispering.
“Look at that beautiful family,” one woman said to her companion,
not bothering to lower her voice. “The parents are gorgeous, no
wonder their daughter is so adorable.”
“That dad is seriously hot,” another commented. “His wife is so lucky.”
“They look so harmonious together–loving parents, well–behaved
child…”
My cheeks burned at their assumptions, but I kept my eyes forward,
pretending not to hear.
This was an exclusive private hospital, nothing like the clinical
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Chapter 199
facilities I was used to. Ridley led us to the top floor, into a secluded
consultation room where a doctor was already waiting.
“Aria! It’s been a few weeks. Do you remember me?” The doctor smiled
warmly, but Aria’s response was to bury her face against my neck, her
small body tensing.
I rubbed her back gently. “It’s okay, Aria. The doctor is here to help
you. When you get better, you’ll have the courage to play with
everyone.”
Aria’s grip on my neck tightened, refusing to let go.
The doctor’s eyes widened with interest. “Mr. Sterling, is this Aria’s
mother?”
I pressed my lips together, about to explain.
“She’s my mommy,” Aria said suddenly, raising her head.
The doctor’s jaw dropped. “This is remarkable! Children with autism
rarely initiate communication or verbalize like this. A month ago, this
young lady showed no response to external stimuli. How long has she
been speaking?”
The doctor turned to Ridley, clearly amazed.
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“About two weeks,” Ridley said evenly.
“No, it’s been a month,” I corrected. I remembered our first meeting at
the amusement park, when Aria had spoken several complete
sentences. That must have been her first time.
“A month?” The doctor’s excitement was palpable. “And how many
times has she spoken during this period?”
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