After breakfast, she declined Black's offer to drive her, instead taking her own car, a normal purchase, and went to her shop with her son.
Black, disappointed, wagged his tail as he returned to the house. "Alpha Roderick, Catriona said she has a child safety seat in her car, and since ours don't, she wouldn't let us drive her."
Roderick was about to leave for the company when he heard Black's comment. He cast a glance at Arden beside him. "You handle it."
"Understood."
The cub was too delicate; his bones hadn't fully developed. For safety, installing a car seat was indeed necessary.
...
In the car.
Sitting in his child safety seat, Cedric swung his little legs and asked in a soft, childish voice, "Mommy, is Iona here too?"
Catriona kept her eyes on the road, replying earnestly, "That's right. You'll get to play with her soon—it's been a while, hasn't it? Do you miss your little sister?"
Iona was her friend Aveline Eversley's youngest daughter, three and a half years old.
Over the past two weeks, her son had been sick, leaving her no time to manage the shop. Aveline, a stay-at-home mom, lived in the neighborhood behind her shop. Two years ago, she often visited the shop to hang out, and over time, the two of them became close.
Over the past two years, Aveline had watched Catriona work and had learned the basics of flower arranging. She eagerly volunteered to help manage the shop, saying she'd drop by whenever she was free to take orders. Every bit she could earn would help.
Making money was secondary; the real concern was that closing for two weeks could have a big impact, potentially losing regular customers.
Catriona couldn't find anyone to hire quickly, so she agreed, saying she'd pay her a wage.
Although Aveline said it wasn't necessary, Catriona insisted on paying her.
After parking the car.
Mother and son headed toward the shop, and Cedric's little nose twitched as he said, "The bad uncle is here too."
"Hmm? Really?" Catriona tapped his little nose. Her son had always had a keen sense of smell, which she hadn't thought much of before. Tsk, turns out he was a little wolf cub after all.
Sure enough, as they got closer, she heard a fierce male voice coming from the shop.
The "bad uncle" her son mentioned was Aveline's husband.
At that moment.
His angry voice carried from inside the shop: "You've helped her sell flowers for half a month—isn't it only fair to ask for payment? She doesn't want to pay you? Does she think you're a fool, an easy target? Who works for free these days? If you won't speak up, I'll ask for it myself!"
"I didn't say she wouldn't pay! Don't speak so harshly. I just bring Iona along and come by when I have time to take a few flower orders. It's not like I earn much in a day. Now that Cedric is sick, she's taking care of him alone, and I didn't want to bring up money."
"Why not bring it up? Are we rich or something? And you haven't worked in years; you think money's easy to earn, huh?"
Aveline pressed her lips together, anger flaring up as she retorted, "Well, back when I offered to go to work so you could take care of the child, you refused, saying it was humiliating! And look at how many clothes and toys Catriona has bought for our child—do you really have the nerve to ask for money from her? You might not care about shame, but I do!"
Her husband sneered, "You're so high and mighty, think you're something special? She sees you as a fool. I think you've raised yourself stupid looking after that kid—now you've even given me a dumb daughter!"
Aveline's little daughter, Iona, three and a half years old, was crouched nearby, gazing intently at a rose as if oblivious to her parents' argument. At her age, she still couldn't say much, usually only managing two words at a time, with slow responses. Hospital visits had revealed only mild autism.
Aveline was heartbroken over her daughter and even more hurt and angered by her husband's attitude, constantly calling her "dumb daughter" or "idiot."
She didn't think her daughter was stupid, just a little slower to respond.
"I don't want to talk to you anymore. Catriona said parents shouldn't shout in front of their kids. If you're going to argue, do it behind closed doors so they don't see. Look at how loud you are—she's going to be scared witless even if she isn't already."
Her husband glanced at his daughter angrily. "It's your family's genes that are the problem. Who doesn't call her dumb now? At least my son isn't; otherwise, you'd have ruined my life."
Aveline laughed angrily, her eyes red. She pointed to the door. "Get out. I don't want to see you right now. Don't embarrass yourself in my friend's shop."
Her husband gave her a hard look. "If you won't take the money, I'll go ask for it myself."
"Screw you! Are you a beggar now?" Aveline slammed the wrapping paper onto the table, unable to hold back anymore. "I only come here after finishing the housework. Don't worry, I'm not neglecting anything at home."
Catriona stood outside holding her son's hand, unsure whether to go in or stay out.
Going in would make everyone uncomfortable, but leaving things like this wouldn't help either.
Cedric held her hand firmly, stepping forward to go inside.
He pressed his lips together and said, "Iona's in there."
His words struck like a wake-up call.
Yes, Iona was still inside—a stifling environment that even adults found oppressive. For a young child, it must have felt like a living hell.
Forget any awkwardness the adults felt; the child was the one truly suffering.
Without hesitation, she took her son's hand and walked straight into the shop.
Seeing her, Aveline froze. "Catriona, you're here?"
Her husband kept silence.
Iona was crouched on the floor, staring blankly at the rose in front of her. The frail, small girl seemed lost in the suffocating air. Catriona sighed at the sight.
"Aunt Aveline." Cedric didn't greet "Bad Uncle"; instead, he walked directly toward Iona.
He crouched down beside her and asked, "Iona, when did you get here?"
After a delayed response, Iona slowly turned her gaze toward him, her slightly vacant eyes meeting his. Ten seconds passed before a glimmer of recognition appeared in her eyes. "Cedric," she murmured.
Half a month had gone by, yet she remembered his name.
The cub, Cedric nodded. "Have you eaten?" he asked, then repeated, "Eaten." He fell quiet, waiting patiently.
Ten seconds later, Iona responded, "Yes."
Aveline smiled at the scene. "Cedric's health has improved—what a blessing. I always said this child was born lucky, destined to overcome any hardships."
She looked a bit embarrassed. "When did you arrive?"
"Just got here," Catriona replied, opened her wallet. In a casual tone, she continued, "I'm reopening the shop tomorrow. Thanks for helping out during this time—I'll send you four thousand; make sure to accept it." Then, turning to her husband, she added, "Have you eaten?"
Her husband cleared his throat. "You've eaten, so I'll leave you to it. I'll be off now."
After her husband left.
Aveline sighed. "You haven't just arrived, have you? Don't listen to him; he's himself, and I'm me. Even if I worked here regularly, how would it be four thousand every half month?"
Catriona patted her shoulder. "Just consider it as me having money. He's right—you should take it." She smiled and went back to work.
Aveline's eyes reddened. "I don't want to argue in front of the kids either. I know it has a big impact on them, but I have a bad temper, and I can't hold it in."
As she unwrapped the flowers, Catriona remarked, "It takes two to argue."
The problems in their marriage weren't solely her doing.
Aveline gave a weak smile. "Yes. So I don't know what to do. You wouldn't believe it, but he wasn't like this when we first got together."
During the honeymoon phase, if she bumped her leg and yelped in the living room, he would rush out of the shower, worried, even in the dead of winter.
Now, her tears were like seawater—abundant, salty, and worthless.
Useless.
She knew their marriage was nearing its end. If she kept holding on for the children, she might waste her entire life.
But she didn't think she could bear it anymore.
Turning away, she shed tears. "You probably don't believe me, but I've seen him love me."
Catriona trimmed the stems of a dozen red roses, placing them gently in a basin to let them soak. In a soft voice, she murmured, "It's not so hard to believe, is it? People change all the time...every day, really. And... love can fade too, don't you think?"
Aveline said, "So I'm really curious—how do couples who grow old together make it work? We've been together six years, and it's already like this. I can't imagine decades."
She seemed entranced. "Is there really true love in this world that lasts a lifetime? Where no one cheats emotionally or physically?"
Catriona thought for a moment, then nodded. "I think so."
She believed in the existence of true love in this world but didn't think she'd be lucky enough to find it.
Now, with a child, it would be even harder. Few men would accept her with a child, right?
But honestly, she didn't seem too concerned about having a partner.
She just wanted to earn enough, raise her child, buy whatever she wanted, eat without worrying about money, afford medical care, and feel content.
Still, thinking about how her son's worth was skyrocketing—practically overnight—she couldn't help but feel a little envious. With Roderick as his incredibly wealthy father, well, even if she had a rocket, she wouldn't catch up that fast.
While the adults were busy with their matters, talking about adult things.
The two kids were also busy with their own tasks.
Cedric looked at Iona's dirty hands and pursed his lips. "Come on, let's wash your hands."
"...Hands?"
"Yes." Cedric led Iona to the faucet, turned on the water, and showed her. "Like this. Wash."
He was instructing her.
Iona took a moment to process, then slowly started rubbing her little hands.
"All clean, let's go." Cedric turned off the faucet.
Iona didn't move. She imitated him, turning on the faucet again and watching the water flow with curiosity.
"You shouldn't waste water." Cedric's face turned serious as he pursed his lips and turned it off.
He pointed to himself. "Say thank you. I helped you; you need to say thank you."
Iona stared blankly at him.
Cedric insisted, "You should say thank you. It's polite.""
The two kids stared at each other, big eyes meeting big eyes—one looking serious, the other a bit confused. A whole minute passed.
"Say thank you."
Iona moved her lips, "Tha-thank you."
"Mm, you're welcome." Cedric nodded seriously, satisfied.
