?Chapter 1277:


    “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re hiding behind excuses,” Greta said, quick to strike a nerve. Stirring the pot was second nature to her.


    Noel shot her a look, his eyes deep as a well.


    “I’m not talking about that kind of issue,” Greta rified, her tone shifting to something more serious. “I mean your fertility problems. You always say you don’t want me to suffer—but what if that’s just a smokescreen?”


    “Top drawer by the window in our bedroom—my medical report’s in there,” Noel replied, parrying her doubts with cold, hard facts.


    Greta fell silent. That was… disappointingly dull.


    She gave him a final nce, then wandered off to join the kids.


    Noel let them go. Watching their happy chaos fade into the distance, he turned back toward his own house.


    Inside, Jesse was deeply immersed in a book—every word printed in a foreign tongue.


    Noel had meant to head straight upstairs, but Greta’s earlier jabs lingered in his mind like a splinter. He paused at the foot of the stairs and addressed Jesse, “Nick and Nina are ying outside. If you get tired of reading, feel free to join them.”


    “Okay,” Jesse answered simply.


    Just as Noel turned to leave, Jesse remembered something Greta had said and called out, “Uncle Noel.”


    “Yes?” Noel turned back, his eyes curious.


    “Can I ask you something about Aunt Greta?” Jesse wasn’t the sweet-talking type, but he had a knack for reason and sincerity.<f90> ?????? ???? findnovel</f90>


    Noel’s brows lifted with a hint of surprise.


    After a thoughtful pause, he stepped over and sat down, giving Jesse his full attention.


    He didn’t know much about Jesse or Nina. In his mind, children their age should be like Nick and Nina—bubbling over with joy, fearless on stage, then giggling in the grass minutester.


    But sitting across from Jesse now, Noel had the uncanny feeling he was talking to someone far older than four—a little soul with a heavy head.


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    “What do you want to ask?” he said slowly.


    “Why don’t you and Aunt Greta have children?” Jesse asked, with the calm of someone discussing the weather.


    “She’s afraid of pain,” Noel answered before he could second-guess himself. Jesse’s mature tone had thrown him off. “When I was courting her, she once bawled for ages over a little scratch.”


    Jesse frowned. He had never imagined Greta to cry easily.


    “She’s that sensitive to a small wound—how could she possibly handle childbirth?” Noel’s voice wasced with genuine concern.


    To him, Greta mighte off as wild, bold, and untamable. But she was a contradiction wrapped in mystery—a lioness afraid of her own roar. She adored children, no doubt about it, but she had no clue what kind of trials came with pregnancy and parenting.


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