Chapter 217
After a long time, Kingsley slowly came back to his senses.
His gaze traveled past the shimmering waves to land on Lucy, who was lying under a sun umbrella. He took a deep breath and walked over with heavy steps.
He sat down in a chair under a nearby umbrella. His voice was choked with barely suppressed emotion, his eyes red-rimmed. “Do you deserve an explanation p>
Hearing that familiar voice, Lucy practically bolted upright. The sun hat covering her face fell onto the sand.
She looked up at him, her tone cold as frost. “Explain what? Kingsley, ask yourself first. Do you have the right p>
Kingsley’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, kneaded and pulled until a crushing pain spread through him.
“I know… I don’t have the right. But he is my son. I can’t control the pain I feel p>
Lucy lowered her eyes, methodically adjusting the sun shawl draped over her shoulders. Every word was like an ice pick:
“I carried the child myself, gave birth to him myself, and raised him myself. What do you have to feel bad about? None of this has anything to do with you—you merely provided a sperm back then p>
She paused, then looked up at him, her eyes filled with undisguised mockery. “Don’t think about disturbing him. Long ago, I told him his father is dead p>
The sentence pierced Kingsley’s heart like thousands of fine needles.
A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and smashed silently onto the back of his hand, scalding him.
If he hadn’t seen the child today—perhaps he wouldn’t be undergoing this torture of guilt and regret.
“I’m sorry His voice trembled.
“I really thought, back then, that he was gone. Everything… is my fault p>
If he hadn’t been blinded by hatred back then, if he had chosen to love her properly, would they be a happy family of three right now?
Once this thought rose, it could not be suppressed. Annoyance and regret intertwined in his heart, surging up to swallow him whole.
Lucy’s gaze landed on the undried tear track on the back of his hand. Her tone was as cold as the sea breeze mixed with grit:
“Kingsley, I will say this one last time-do not disturb Seven. He is living a very good life p>
Kingsley’s eyes were bloodshot, tears flowing uncontrollably.
The last time he had cried this brokenly was when Joyce’s mother passed away unexpectedly, and he felt his light had gone out.
“I can’t do that,” he said, his voice hoarse, carrying a stubborn persistence.
“I cannot watch him stand in front of me and do nothing p>
Lucy took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slightly with suppressed emotion:
“He doesn’t need you! He is happy every day… Do you want him to
become like you? Cold blood net
selfish… Suffocating under a pile of messy problems all day long p>
Hearing this, a bitter smile of relief unexpectedly touched Kingsley’s lips.
“He won’t be like me,” he whispered, a faint light appearing in his eyes.
“He will have the love of a father and mother, and the affection of many relatives. He will live a happy life. Most importantly, he has a mother who loves him with all her heart p>
These words acted like a thorn, instantly igniting Lucy’s anger.
She almost bent down to grab a handful of sand to throw in his face.
“Are you worthy of mentioning the word ‘father’? He almost didn’t make it! Kingsley, do you realize that if heart
thad been just a little harder back then, he wouldn’t be here-and the culprit for all of that is you p>
Every word was an ironclad fact, a heavy stone pressing on Kingsley’s heart.
At this moment, he felt more suffocated than ever before.
“Yes, it’s all my fault,” his voice shook, thick with nasal tones.
“The current situation is entirely my fault. Please give me time. I will definitely make
it up to both of you p>