Chapter 1288: I Really Want to Smack Him
He... got nervous!
After he saw the little one, would the little one pay any attention to him?
Since the child had never met him, would he be scared of him?
What should he say to the little one first?
Should he go over and give him a hug?
What if the little one dodged him?
The more Mason Wilson thought about it, the more nervous he got. His whole body had gone stiff like a chunk of Stone. Just then, laughter and chatter drifted in from the doorway. He stared eagerly toward the door, his heart pounding faster and faster, thumping like it was about to jump right out of his throat.
The little one!
Mason spotted that adorable little kid the moment he walked in.
So cute!
This was his grandson.
While Mason was secretly watching the little one, he suddenly realized the little one was looking at him too. Their eyes met in midair, and Mason’s heart tightened. What was he supposed to say?
Before Mason could figure it out, he saw the little guy pump his short legs and patter his way inside, heading straight toward him.
The little one stretched out his tiny arms and wrapped them around Mason’s legs in one go. He tilted up his smiling face, showing a sweet grin, opened his little mouth and called in a soft, milky voice, "Grandpa!"
"Eh... eh..." The first response came out a bit shaky, but by the second, Mason was already overwhelmed with joy. He bent down and scooped the little guy up.
Holding this soft, squishy little bundle, he grinned like an idiot.
His grandson!
The whole family sat together, chatting and laughing. With the little one around, everyone suddenly had all kinds of things to talk about.
The little one was the happiest of all, running back and forth on the floor.
Of course, once he got tired from all the running, he still dove straight into Sophie Wilson’s arms. Mommy was the best, smelled so nice—he loved Mommy the most.
"I’ll take him upstairs for his nap." Charles Seymour said softly.
The kid needed his lunchtime nap.
"Mm." Sophie nodded, and Charles reached over and scooped the little one up.
The little one nestled in Charles’s arms, yawning, "Daddy."
"Mm, sleep well." Charles said gently. Once they went in, he gave the little guy a bit of water, coaxed him to sleep, then finally came back out.
Only when he stepped out did he realize Sophie was waiting for him in the hallway.
"Grandpa and Grandma went to take a nap, and my parents are resting in the guest room too." Sophie explained. "The little one’s asleep?"
"Mm." Charles nodded. "There’s something I want to talk to you about."
Sophie nodded and followed Charles into her room.
Once inside, Charles naturally slipped an arm around her, and they sat down together. He sighed inwardly—he finally had his wife in his arms again.
"What’s wrong?" Sophie asked, puzzled.
He’d said he had something to tell her, but now he wasn’t saying a word. What was that supposed to mean?
"Nothing, I just wanted to hug you." Charles said.
"Eh?" Sophie stared at him in surprise. "You... what’s going on with you?"
Did something happen at the company?
Otherwise why would he be in such a low mood?
"You’ve been holding the little one all day..." As soon as Charles started grumbling, Sophie was stunned.
"You kept looking at him, kissed him several times..." Charles listed out Sophie’s biased behavior one by one.
Sophie: "..."
"At lunch you were picking out food for him and even feeding him." The more Charles talked, the more aggrieved he sounded.
Sophie pressed a hand to her forehead.
Finally, Charles concluded, "I think I’ve fallen out of favor."
His aggrieved gaze met Sophie’s helpless eyes. He blinked; Sophie blinked back. The light in Charles’s eyes grew dimmer and dimmer—he was heartbroken...
Sophie: "..."
Why do I feel like smacking him?