We Want Mommy Not You Daddy (Cedar) novel Chapter 225

Chapter 225

Ridley’s POV

I stood there, watching Cedar freeze in the bathroom doorway. She clearly hadn’t expected to find me waiting, and the surprise written across her face stirred something in me. I felt an urge to tease her, to see that blush deepen, but maintained my customary cool expression. Only my lingering gaze betrayed me

“I’ll… go shower now,” she murmured, her voice carrying a shyness I rarely heard from her.

When the bathroom door closed and the water started running, I drew a deep breath and settled on the edge of the bed with my tablet.

The quarterly reports needed my attention, but the words and numbers blurred as the sound of running water kept pulling at my focus. I forced myself to concentrate, telling myself it was just water,

nothing significant about it.

Twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opened. Cedar emerged

wearing my bathrobe, which swallowed her smaller frame–the

sleeves covering her fingertips, the hem falling well below her knees.

Seeing her in my clothes created a peculiar satisfaction that I

couldn’t quite name. I struggled to maintain my composure, to

suppress the impulse to close the distance between us.

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“Come here,” I said, setting down my tablet and gesturing to the spot beside me.

She hesitated before crossing the room and sitting down. I picked up the hair dryer from the nightstand and began drying her hair, my movements measured and deliberate.

“You don’t have to do this…” she said softly.

“If you catch cold, the children will worry,” I replied evenly, aware of how flimsy the excuse sounded even to my own ears. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, yet I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to do something for her. My fingers brushed through her damp hair, and an unfamiliar contentment settled in my chest.

Then reality crashed back–the thought of her growing attached only

to be left behind when my condition worsened. My hands stilled

abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice carefully controlled. “This is

inappropriate. You should finish this yourself. I’m not particularly

skilled at it anyway.”

Confusion flickered across her face, followed by what looked like

disappointment. I maintained my neutral expression and decisively

moved back to the sofa, putting distance between us.

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After she finished drying her hair, Cedar stood up. “I can take the

sofa,” she offered.

“No.” My response was firm, brooking no argument. “You take the bed.

I’ll sleep on the sofa.” From my tone, Cedar knew further debate

would be pointless.

“But it’s your room…”

“You need proper rest.” I gathered my nightclothes and retreated to

the bathroom.

Cold water pounded against my skin. I welcomed the shocking chill, letting it extinguish the inexplicable warmth that had been building

inside me. I stood under the spray longer than necessary, until my

thoughts finally cleared, before turning off the water and drying

myself.

When I emerged, Cedar was already lying in bed, seemingly asleep.

Moonlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, illuminating her

face and the faint blush that still colored her cheeks. Looking at her

peaceful expression, I couldn’t suppress a small smile.

I moved quietly to the sofa and stretched out, pulling the blanket over me. Despite the sofa being too small for my frame, the sound of Cedar’s steady breathing created a rare sense of peace around me.

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Before long, I drifted into sleep.

In my dream, I saw Irene. She wore the light blue dress from the last

time we met, standing in sunlight with that gentle smile I

remembered so well.

“Why…” I heard myself ask, “why could I tell

but can’t bring myself to tell Cedar?”

you about my condition,

Irene’s smile turned knowing, yet tender. “Perhaps because you feel

something deeper for her, and that makes you more afraid of loss.”

Her voice was like a soft breeze, gentle yet distinct: “Let go of the

past, Ridley. Don’t let old shadows obscure today’s light.”

“Irene…” I called her name, feeling a complex mixture of emotions

rising in my chest.

She only smiled faintly. “What we had was sweet and beautiful in its

innocence. I cherish that time.” Her figure began to fade. “I wish for

your happiness going forward.”

“Irene!” I reached out, trying to hold onto her, but grasped only air.

Her image slowly dissolved into the dream.

“Thank you…” I whispered, uncertain whether I was addressing her or

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Chapter 225

myself.

When I woke, daylight was streaming through the curtains. I turned

toward the bed, only to find Cedar was gone.

Cedar’s POV

I have to admit, Ridley’s bed was incredibly comfortable. The silky sheets seemed to envelop my tired body the moment I lay down. I tried to push away thoughts of his sudden emotional withdrawal, that abrupt shift to coldness like a door quietly closing between us.

“It’s nothing,” I told myself, burying my face into the plush pillow that carried his familiar scent. “He’s just maintaining appropriate boundaries.” Though a small voice reminded me that his gentleness while drying my hair hadn’t seemed appropriate at all. I forced those thoughts away and let exhaustion carry me into sleep.

I woke to the soft blue–gray light of early dawn. At first, I wasn’t sure what had disturbed my sleep until I heard the low murmur of a voice

nearby.

“Irene…”

Turning my head, I saw Ridley on the sofa, his brow slightly furrowed. Even in sleep, his features remained sharp and defined, just slightly

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less severe than when awake. He called that name again, his voice

filled with tenderness.

“Irene…”

It felt like a small knife gently piercing my chest. So that was it. I

suddenly understood why he always retreated when I got close, why

those complex emotions would flash in his eyes before quickly

disappearing. His heart already belonged to someone else.

I bit my lower lip, forcing myself to look away. A bitter realization

spread through me–no matter how hard I tried, I was simply

occupying someone else’s place in his life.

The sky outside gradually brightened, transforming from deep blue to

pale gray, eventually tinted with soft orange. Sleep had completely

abandoned me, so I just watched the changing light, waiting for a

reasonable hour to get up. When the clock showed 6:30, I slipped out

of bed and left the room as quietly as possible.

In the kitchen, Charles had already started preparing breakfast. He

raised an eyebrow slightly when he saw me but quickly resumed his

professional demeanor.

“Good morning, Ms. Wright. The children aren’t up yet.”

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“Good morning, Charles. Need any help?” I asked, trying to distract

myself with work.

“Not necessary, thank you. Coffee’s fresh–help yourself.”

I poured myself a cup of black coffee and stood by the floor–to–ceiling

windows, gazing out at the garden. Soon after, the sound of children’s

footsteps echoed from upstairs. I forced a smile as they arrived, helping Aria with her hair, checking that Oliver’s buttons were done.

correctly, while Aiden appeared, as usual, perfectly put together.

We had just sat down for breakfast when my phone rang.

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