Chapter 174
Sienna couldn’t help but run the facts through her mind.
Could severe, chronic insomnia truly be cured by a few basic bedtime stories and an amateur shoulder massage?
Or was the real cure hidden in that seemingly ordinary glass of wine—and orchestrated by the two-faced woman sitting right in front of her?
She didn’t push for an answer, having no desire to entangle herself in Celeste’s web of lies.
Adjusting her grip on the plate of Osmanthus Rice Cakes, she turned on her heel and walked straight toward Grandpa’s room.
Some mysteries weren’t worth unraveling tonight.
Pushing open the heavy door, she found him resting alone.
He was propped up against the headboard, his complexion still bearing the frail exhaustion of his recent illness.
The moment he saw Sienna, his eyes lit up with genuine warmth. “Sienna, you’re here. Come, sit down p>
Sienna approached the bed, carefully setting the plate on the nightstand. Picking up a small silver spoon, she carved out a delicate bite and patiently offered it to him.
“Try this, Grandpa. I used the recipe you mentioned last time and cut back on the sugar p>
He took a bite, chewing slowly before his eyes crinkled in absolute delight. “That’s it. That’s exactly how she used to make it p>
He let out a heavy sigh, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I haven’t tasted this in almost sixty years p>
Sienna didn’t interrupt, gently offering him another bite.
She knew he wasn’t talking about Eleanor. He was talking about his first wife.
Sienna knew very little about the original Mrs. Sterling.
The only detail the family whispered was that she had died in a tragic car accident during their second year of marriage, while heavily pregnant with twins.
Grandpa had refused to remarry for five years, only eventually taking a second wife—Eleanor—under immense pressure from the family elders.
The memory of his first wife was the most heavily guarded, sensitive topic within the Sterling family.
As an outsider, Sienna knew better than to pry.
After a few more bites, the older man seemed to regain some of his vitality. He leaned back, casually chatting with Sienna about nothing in particular.
During a lull in the conversation, Sienna’s eyes drifted toward a pair of intricately carved wooden figurines sitting on a cabinet.
The craftsmanship was exquisite, the faces of the little boy and girl practically glowing with lifelike detail. The fluid lines and rustic charm proved they were masterworks, far removed from anything mass-produced.
Looking closely, she could just make out the names carved into their chests: Caelan and Cora.
Sienna froze, instantly realizing what the figures represented.
Noticing her captivated stare, Grandpa smiled softly and asked in a relaxed tone, “Sienna, do you like children p>
The question caught her completely off guard. She thought for a second before answering honestly.
“I wouldn’t say I love them, but I certainly don’t hate them.
Maybe it’s just because I haven’t experienced motherhood. I can’t really imagine how drastically a child would alter my life. I don’t feel… like I’m missing out on anything p>
She had always been a realist, never one to force an idealized version of life.
In her years as a psychologist, she had counseled too many mothers who had entirely abandoned their own identities for the sake of their kids.
She had also seen too many parents who only had children out of societal obligation, wholly unequipped to take actual responsibility for a fragile life.
She wasn’t opposed to children, but she certainly didn’t view them as a mandatory milestone.
Grandpa nodded thoughtfully, seemingly absorbing her perspective.
After a long pause, he smiled gently. “If you’re open to it, why not have one with Jarred?
A child deepens the bond between a husband and wife. Who knows? A baby might give you the clarity you’re looking for and open the door to a completely different life p>
Sienna’s expression remained perfectly neutral, but her fingers tightened fiercely around the handle of the silver spoon.