“Don’t worry, Stephanie’s tactics are basic. She won’t be able to steal your dad away.” Natalie couldn’t resist, gently pinching her daughter’s soft, plump cheek. Stephanie? The girl wasn’t even a blip on her radar. Yvonne looked up at her, eyes wide and filled with pure curiosity. “Mommy, what’s a ‘high-level tactic’?” “You’ll learn soon enough.” Natalie cradled her sweet, soft daughter in her arms, stood, and after a brief farewell to Gianna, she left. Later that evening … Jonathan wrapped up his work and stopped by Regalia’s elite elementary school to pick up Christopher. “The principal called today. Said you made your homeroom teacher cry again.” “It’s not my fault. He cried because he’s dumb.” “He’s one of Astolfa’s top mathematicians.” “But he couldn’t solve the problems I gave him.” Jonathan let out a frustrated sigh. His son was a genius, an actual prodigy. At just five, Christopher was already being called a mathematical savant. Academics referred to him as the Hyperion prodigy, a mind beyond his years. Top schools begged for his admission, but he turned them all down, choosing instead to stay in elementary school to protect his sister. Christopher waved it off. “Okay, I get it. But Jonathan, you’re really not considering Stephanie? Yeah, she’s not the sharpest, but at least she’s sincere with you. “At least she won’t lie like Natalie, jumping from one thing to the next, hurting you.” Jonathan blinked, taken aback. His son, just five years old, sounded like he had the wisdom of a grown man. The innocence of childhood had already slipped through his fingers. It was his own selfishness that had tainted everything. Guilt twisted around Jonathan’s chest, coiling tighter with every passing second. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice strained. “You like her?” “I’m not sure she’d make our family happier, but I’m sure she won’t make it worse.” Christopher didn’t give a direct answer. His eyes, sharp and calculating, betrayed no emotion. Back at home … Jonathan stood at the door, hearing the sound of laughter, his children’s voices filling the room. He pushed the door open. The room had been utterly transformed. A full-length mirror framed with pink bunnies, a custom vanity with delicate carvings, a soft, dog-themed blanket, and sky-blue bed linens—all of it, vibrant and bright, filled the space with life. The once dreary room now radiated warmth and personality. But what really caught his eye was the double bathtub in the bathroom. “You’re back … ” Natalie, perched on a folding ladder, turned around, only for the ladder to tip over beneath her. She teetered, losing her balance, but before she hit the ground, a pair of strong arms caught her. Jonathan was about to set her down, but she clung to his neck instead, holding on tight. Natalie pointed to the blank wall by the bed. “I’m thinking of putting a family photo of all four of us there. What do you think?” Christopher, leaning casually against the doorframe, scoffed. “Natalie, didn’t you say you’d rather have a death photo than take one with us?” Natalie froze. Had she really said that? But as she glanced at her daughter’s tear-streaked face and Jonathan’s silent expression, she knew, deep down, that 24-year-old Natalie had indeed said those harsh words. Yvonne sniffled. “It’s okay, Mommy. A picture of just you would look great too.” The little girl’s eyes were red, but she forced a smile—a smile that always seemed to bend in the direction of seeking approval. Christopher’s heart tightened. His sister always did this. No matter how cruel or hurtful the old Natalie had been, Yvonne always wore that apologetic, too-innocent smile, as if trying to win her mother’s affection. His sweet, silly sister—always chasing a love that was just out of reach. Seeing Yvonne on the verge of tears, Christopher’s face hardened. He moved to pull her away, but then Natalie’s words stopped him. “Sorry. I know I’ve done a lot of bad things, but I want to make things right. Will you give me a chance, Eve?” Christopher stared, frozen for a moment. Natalie … apologizing? Was she really doing that? Yvonne’s voice trembled. “Mommy, I’ve never blamed you. It’s my fault for being naughty. That’s why you got upset.” Tears welled in Yvonne’s eyes, and as she shook her head, droplets fell onto Natalie’s hand. How had she earned such a kind, understanding daughter in this life? Gently, Natalie wiped the tears away. “How about we take a family photo tomorrow?” Natalie’s change left Stephanie unsettled. She sneered, her words cutting. “Jonny’s photos have value. He won’t take a family photo with you. Who knows what you’d do with it for Jacques? Maybe you’d use it for something shady.” The mention of Jacques darkened Jonathan’s expression instantly. Christopher didn’t know what game Natalie was playing, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t giving her a chance to hurt him or Yvonne again. “I’m not taking a family photo with that evil woman, Natalie.” Yvonne’s lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. … The next day, at the photography studio. “Uh, Jonathan, Chris, could you move a little closer to the center?” The photographer raised the camera and lowered it again, eyeing them with confusion. Is this really a family? They look … distant, like strangers. Natalie sat in the middle, holding Yvonne close, while Jonathan and Christopher stood apart, as far as they could without backing out of the shot. “Chris, Daddy!” Yvonne called, her voice small and upset. Her gentle, loving Mommy wasn’t some monster. Why were they standing so far away? Jonathan and Christopher, terrified of the tears that were already threatening, took a few stiff steps toward her. Nothing was worse than their little princess crying. The photographer clicked the shutter, capturing their first family photo. In the picture, Natalie’s smile was warm, her arms cradling Yvonne’s sweet, obedient face. Jonathan stood on the left, his suit sharp, his face as cold as stone. On the right, Christopher stood, arms crossed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. The picture oozed awkwardness, like a jigsaw puzzle with mismatched pieces. Stephanie, trailing them like a persistent shadow, watched, seething with jealousy. When she saw the uncomfortable photo, she couldn’t help herself. She let out a low laugh, covering her mouth. “This family photo is … really ‘special’.” Yvonne, not catching the bite in Stephanie’s tone, giggled and pointed at Jonathan in the picture. “Daddy looks so serious! It’s like he’s taking a wedding picture.” Natalie’s gaze lingered on the photo. She wore a red, form-fitting qipao, her hair styled elegantly, standing next to Jonathan in his tailored suit. For a moment, they looked … good together. It did look like a wedding photo. The large framed picture would be ready in three days. As they left, Natalie mentioned going shopping. Yvonne grabbed Jonathan’s hand with one hand and Daddy’s with the other. “Mommy, we’ll go with you.” Natalie smiled and nodded before turning to Stephanie. “If you have nothing else to do, you can come along.” If Stephanie kept mocking her, there would be consequences. … “Hey, can you come in and help me with the zipper?” Natalie’s voice drifted out from behind the dressing room door, light and casual. Outside, the male store manager stood frozen, a thick sheen of sweat coating his back as he glanced nervously at Jonathan, who was perched on the couch, flipping through a book. The room felt too small, the air too thick. It was all so strange. Just minutes ago, the store had been overflowing with orders. Now, all the staff had gone out to deliver clothes, leaving only him to deal with Mr. and Mrs. Hyperion. “Mrs. Hyperion, all the staff are out. It’s just me here. I could … call someone back to help you … ” “It’s fine. You can come in and help me.” Her voice cut through the air, and an invisible pressure suddenly pressed down on the manager, as if the very space around him had become suffocating. He felt his breath hitch, his heart race. He looked at Jonathan, whose face had hardened into a mask of cold indifference. The manager’s pulse quickened. There was no way he was walking into that room. No chance. He wasn’t crazy. But he had heard the rumors. If Mrs. Hyperion ever got angry, she was a force to be reckoned with. He wasn’t about to cross that line. Stephanie, never one to let a moment slip by, couldn’t hold back. “Jonny, Natalie is getting a little bold, don’t you think? Letting some other man help her with her zipper? Isn’t that basically letting another man touch her? “If it were me, I wouldn’t let that happen … ” But before she could finish, Jonathan’s calm, measured demeanor cracked. He stood up in a smooth motion and walked toward the dressing room, his hand reaching for the door.”Don’t worry, Stephanie’s tactics are basic. She won’t be able to steal your dad away.” Natalie couldn’t resist, gently pinching her daughter’s soft, plump cheek. Stephanie? The girl wasn’t even a blip on her radar. Yvonne looked up at her, eyes wide and filled with pure curiosity. “Mommy, what’s a ‘high-level tactic’?” “You’ll learn soon enough.” Natalie cradled her sweet, soft daughter in her arms, stood, and after a brief farewell to Gianna, she left. Later that evening … Jonathan wrapped up his work and stopped by Regalia’s elite elementary school to pick up Christopher. “The principal called today. Said you made your homeroom teacher cry again.” “It’s not my fault. He cried because he’s dumb.” “He’s one of Astolfa’s top mathematicians.” “But he couldn’t solve the problems I gave him.” Jonathan let out a frustrated sigh. His son was a genius, an actual prodigy. At just five, Christopher was already being called a mathematical savant. Academics referred to him as the Hyperion prodigy, a mind beyond his years. Top schools begged for his admission, but he turned them all down, choosing instead to stay in elementary school to protect his sister. Christopher waved it off. “Okay, I get it. But Jonathan, you’re really not considering Stephanie? Yeah, she’s not the sharpest, but at least she’s sincere with you. “At least she won’t lie like Natalie, jumping from one thing to the next, hurting you.” Jonathan blinked, taken aback. His son, just five years old, sounded like he had the wisdom of a grown man. The innocence of childhood had already slipped through his fingers. It was his own selfishness that had tainted everything. Guilt twisted around Jonathan’s chest, coiling tighter with every passing second. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice strained. “You like her?” “I’m not sure she’d make our family happier, but I’m sure she won’t make it worse.” Christopher didn’t give a direct answer. His eyes, sharp and calculating, betrayed no emotion. Back at home … Jonathan stood at the door, hearing the sound of laughter, his children’s voices filling the room. He pushed the door open. The room had been utterly transformed. A full-length mirror framed with pink bunnies, a custom vanity with delicate carvings, a soft, dog-themed blanket, and sky-blue bed linens—all of it, vibrant and bright, filled the space with life. The once dreary room now radiated warmth and personality. But what really caught his eye was the double bathtub in the bathroom. “You’re back … ” Natalie, perched on a folding ladder, turned around, only for the ladder to tip over beneath her. She teetered, losing her balance, but before she hit the ground, a pair of strong arms caught her. Jonathan was about to set her down, but she clung to his neck instead, holding on tight. Natalie pointed to the blank wall by the bed. “I’m thinking of putting a family photo of all four of us there. What do you think?” Christopher, leaning casually against the doorframe, scoffed. “Natalie, didn’t you say you’d rather have a death photo than take one with us?” Natalie froze. Had she really said that? But as she glanced at her daughter’s tear-streaked face and Jonathan’s silent expression, she knew, deep down, that 24-year-old Natalie had indeed said those harsh words. Yvonne sniffled. “It’s okay, Mommy. A picture of just you would look great too.” The little girl’s eyes were red, but she forced a smile—a smile that always seemed to bend in the direction of seeking approval. Christopher’s heart tightened. His sister always did this. No matter how cruel or hurtful the old Natalie had been, Yvonne always wore that apologetic, too-innocent smile, as if trying to win her mother’s affection. His sweet, silly sister—always chasing a love that was just out of reach. Seeing Yvonne on the verge of tears, Christopher’s face hardened. He moved to pull her away, but then Natalie’s words stopped him. “Sorry. I know I’ve done a lot of bad things, but I want to make things right. Will you give me a chance, Eve?” Christopher stared, frozen for a moment. Natalie … apologizing? Was she really doing that? Yvonne’s voice trembled. “Mommy, I’ve never blamed you. It’s my fault for being naughty. That’s why you got upset.” Tears welled in Yvonne’s eyes, and as she shook her head, droplets fell onto Natalie’s hand. How had she earned such a kind, understanding daughter in this life? Gently, Natalie wiped the tears away. “How about we take a family photo tomorrow?” Natalie’s change left Stephanie unsettled. She sneered, her words cutting. “Jonny’s photos have value. He won’t take a family photo with you. Who knows what you’d do with it for Jacques? Maybe you’d use it for something shady.” The mention of Jacques darkened Jonathan’s expression instantly. Christopher didn’t know what game Natalie was playing, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t giving her a chance to hurt him or Yvonne again. “I’m not taking a family photo with that evil woman, Natalie.” Yvonne’s lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. … The next day, at the photography studio. “Uh, Jonathan, Chris, could you move a little closer to the center?” The photographer raised the camera and lowered it again, eyeing them with confusion. Is this really a family? They look … distant, like strangers. Natalie sat in the middle, holding Yvonne close, while Jonathan and Christopher stood apart, as far as they could without backing out of the shot. “Chris, Daddy!” Yvonne called, her voice small and upset. Her gentle, loving Mommy wasn’t some monster. Why were they standing so far away? Jonathan and Christopher, terrified of the tears that were already threatening, took a few stiff steps toward her. Nothing was worse than their little princess crying. The photographer clicked the shutter, capturing their first family photo. In the picture, Natalie’s smile was warm, her arms cradling Yvonne’s sweet, obedient face. Jonathan stood on the left, his suit sharp, his face as cold as stone. On the right, Christopher stood, arms crossed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. The picture oozed awkwardness, like a jigsaw puzzle with mismatched pieces. Stephanie, trailing them like a persistent shadow, watched, seething with jealousy. When she saw the uncomfortable photo, she couldn’t help herself. She let out a low laugh, covering her mouth. “This family photo is … really ‘special’.” Yvonne, not catching the bite in Stephanie’s tone, giggled and pointed at Jonathan in the picture. “Daddy looks so serious! It’s like he’s taking a wedding picture.” Natalie’s gaze lingered on the photo. She wore a red, form-fitting qipao, her hair styled elegantly, standing next to Jonathan in his tailored suit. For a moment, they looked … good together. It did look like a wedding photo. The large framed picture would be ready in three days. As they left, Natalie mentioned going shopping. Yvonne grabbed Jonathan’s hand with one hand and Daddy’s with the other. “Mommy, we’ll go with you.” Natalie smiled and nodded before turning to Stephanie. “If you have nothing else to do, you can come along.” If Stephanie kept mocking her, there would be consequences. … “Hey, can you come in and help me with the zipper?” Natalie’s voice drifted out from behind the dressing room door, light and casual. Outside, the male store manager stood frozen, a thick sheen of sweat coating his back as he glanced nervously at Jonathan, who was perched on the couch, flipping through a book. The room felt too small, the air too thick. It was all so strange. Just minutes ago, the store had been overflowing with orders. Now, all the staff had gone out to deliver clothes, leaving only him to deal with Mr. and Mrs. Hyperion. “Mrs. Hyperion, all the staff are out. It’s just me here. I could … call someone back to help you … ” “It’s fine. You can come in and help me.” Her voice cut through the air, and an invisible pressure suddenly pressed down on the manager, as if the very space around him had become suffocating. He felt his breath hitch, his heart race. He looked at Jonathan, whose face had hardened into a mask of cold indifference. The manager’s pulse quickened. There was no way he was walking into that room. No chance. He wasn’t crazy. But he had heard the rumors. If Mrs. Hyperion ever got angry, she was a force to be reckoned with. He wasn’t about to cross that line. Stephanie, never one to let a moment slip by, couldn’t hold back. “Jonny, Natalie is getting a little bold, don’t you think? Letting some other man help her with her zipper? Isn’t that basically letting another man touch her? “If it were me, I wouldn’t let that happen … ” But before she could finish, Jonathan’s calm, measured demeanor cracked. He stood up in a smooth motion and walked toward the dressing room, his hand reaching for the door.
wake up married
Status: Ongoing
