Hold On Mr.! Your Sweetheart is a Real Queen-Chapter 736: What exactly is between us?

Robert Stephens’s last wish was very simple.

He wished for Edward Stephens to allow him to see Charlotte Smith and George Stephens one last time.

When he went to prison, he refused to see anyone, but near death, he finally relented and followed his heart.

In his lifetime, there weren’t many things he cared about, just Edward and Charlotte, and at last, a small child.

He had a contentious relationship with his brother, to the point of life and death encounters, and couldn’t love the woman he liked. The only one he could truly cherish was George Stephens.

And George truly loved him too.

In his life, he received just this small, tender love.

And it was enough.

Such a small request, Edward could hardly refuse. Indifferent, he quickly arranged for someone to inform Charlotte, asking her to prepare and find a time to take Edward to see Robert.

This was Robert Stephens’s only time, in over three months of unconsciousness, when he agreed to Charlotte’s request to see him.

The news came when Edward and Daisy Ginger were returning home in the evening, as Charlotte was at the Stephens family home, having dinner with George.

When the assistant relayed Edward’s message that Robert had woken up and wanted to see her, the chopsticks in Charlotte’s hand fell to the ground.

George Stephens also heard that Robert wanted to see him and immediately put down his chopsticks and jumped off the chair, "Mom, let’s go now, let’s see the teacher now!"

"..." Charlotte was stunned for a moment, seemingly recovering from the immense shock. Sensing something, her face didn’t show particular joy, but rather paled even further.

She scolded George back to his seat and softly said to Edward’s young assistant, "We’ll go tomorrow during the day. Can you notify my husband?"

The assistant nodded, "Sure."

"Thank you."

She politely saw him to the door, then slowly returned.

George chased after her from the dining room, still somewhat displeased, "Mom, the teacher wants to see us today, why don’t we go now?"

"..."

Charlotte didn’t speak, a shadow covering her ashen face. After a while, she squatted down slowly, holding the child’s thin body, choking on sobs.

George froze, at a loss, thinking his stubbornness had made his mother cry, hastily comforting her, "I won’t go, I won’t go, Mom, please don’t cry..."

Charlotte couldn’t speak, her body and mind emptied by a deep despair, leaving only tears, her mind utterly blank.

Once she had yearned to see him, now she feared meeting him.

*

The next day.

The sunlight was beautiful.

George Stephens woke up very early, dressing with the nanny’s help while calling Charlotte.

He was full of enthusiasm.

"Mom, I’m awake now. When will you come get me, when will we go to the hospital to see the teacher?"

Charlotte was also up early, already driving as she told George she’d be there soon, hung up, and checked the mirror again.

Her complexion was poor, the concealer unable to hide the pallor and dark circles. She took a moment to make herself more presentable, though the redness and fatigue in her eyes couldn’t be masked by makeup.

She hadn’t slept all night.

Thought about many things.

Studiously prepared questions, repeating them several times in her mind.

Wanting to ask him— Did you ever love me? Why harm our child and me? Why protect me fiercely? These years, did hurting me mean you truly hated me? Why refuse meetings, and then decide to meet? What really exists between us?

In her life, he was the only man. From being pulled into bed as a naive girl, to being hit while six months pregnant, almost losing life and child. In those days of youthful vigor, she chose to perish with him in wrath, but didn’t expect him to shield her beneath him.

And then...

Then there was no love, and she dared not hate anymore. The explosion that killed so many left her nerves gradually numbed.

It was he who once spoiled her without limits, and then dragged her into hell, all nearly twenty years past. She didn’t know if knowing the answer would bring liberation or deeper tragedy.

She and he were no longer what they once were.

As thoughts jumbled, she arrived at the Stephens family home, where George stood at the door in little suspenders, seeing her get out of the car, joyfully calling out "Mom" and running to her for a hug.

He was adept at being coquettish, nothing like that man’s pride. Robert was always adept at spoiling. In her naive youth, she too had been as flamboyant as George.

Patting the child’s head, she smiled at him softly, asking warmly, "Had breakfast yet?"

"Yes, I have." George nodded, visibly excited, unable to stay still and tugging her hand, "Mom, let’s go, hurry!"

Charlotte nodded, picking him up, smiling warmly at the nanny by the door, before carrying the child to the car.

"Don’t move around, buckle your seatbelt." She secured it for him firmly.

George sat obediently, only his lively eyes darting around, seeing the blush on her face, he chuckled, "Mom, do you like the teacher?"

Charlotte paused, looking up at him.

"Today you even put on such pretty makeup."

Charlotte tapped his little mouth, admonishing, "You can’t say such things carelessly."

George pouted, "Don’t you like the teacher? The teacher is so good to us."

Charlotte withdrew her gaze, placing her hand on the steering wheel, "He’s good to you."

George swung his legs, pursing his lips, "Good to mom too."

Charlotte didn’t argue, starting the car.

George was relentless, wanting confirmation of how good Robert was to her, counting on his fingers to lay down the facts.

"Every time mom comes back from a business trip, the teacher calls for me to greet you. He’s even afraid of you, secretly taking me out to play, afraid to tell you, fearing you’re unhappy. And mom, the teacher looks very happy when you’re back."

Charlotte responded blandly, "Is that so?"

"Yes, he’ll prepare dishes you like."

Then, after dinner, again wield a whip at her.

Charlotte didn’t argue with George; there’s no point discussing her and Robert’s twisted relationship.