Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142 Gifts Left at Gates

I walked into the small parlor where the boxes sat on a low table. I didn’t need to open them to know what was inside. The return labels bore the name of an exclusive toy store in the city center. I picked up a silver-wrapped box and tore the corner. A handcrafted wooden train set sat inside. I set it back down.

“Marcus,” I called out.

Marcus appeared from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked at the pile of gifts.

“Take them to the storage room,” I instructed. “Do not open them. Do not let Elias see them.”

“He’s persistent,” Marcus noted, his voice neutral.

“He’s trying to buy a relationship he didn’t build,” I replied. I felt a sharp, bitter edge in my throat. “Gifts are easy. Being a father is

hard. He thinks if he floods this house with expensive wood and silk, I will forget the years he wasn’t there.*

“He stays at the gate every night, Minerva,” Marcus said. “He doesn’t try to come in. He just sits in the car until sunrise.”

I walked into the playroom. Elias was sitting on the rug, busy with a set of plastic cups. He was stacking them with a level of focus that made me smile despite the weight of the morning.

“Mama! Look!” He pointed to a tower of three cups.

“That’s amazing, baby,” I said, kneeling beside him. I kissed the top of his head. He smelled like baby soap and the faint, sweet scent of the milk he had for breakfast.

A knock sounded on the front door. It wasn’t the frantic strike of a threat. It was slow. Hesitant.

Marcus checked the monitor. “It’s him. He’s on foot.”

I stood up, smoothing my skirt. “Stay with Elias.”

I walked to the front door and opened it. The humid air rushed in, smelling of wet grass. Tristan stood on the porch. He wasn’t wearing a suit. He wore a simple dark sweater and jeans. He looked human. He looked tired.

He held a small, poorly wrapped parcel in his hands. It wasn’t from the exclusive store. The paper was plain brown, tied with a bit of kitchen twine.

“I’m not taking more gifts, Tristan,” I said. I stayed behind the screen door.

“It’s not an expensive toy,” he said. His voice was low, carrying a tremor he couldn’t hide. I found it in a shop near the industrial district. It reminded me of the one my father gave me before he passed. It’s a simple carved horse.”

“He doesn’t need a horse. He has everything he needs.”

Tristan looked down at the parcel. His knuckles were white. “I know I can’t buy my way in. I’m not trying to. I just want him to have something from me that isn’t a contract or a share.

“You want to be a part of his life,” I stated. I pushed the screen door open an inch. ‘But you don’t understand the damage you did.

You think the ‘public wife’ title fixed the foundation. It didn’t. Every time I look at a gift from you, I remember the nights I had to choose between a toy and a loaf of bread.”

Tristan winced. He took a half-step back. “I will keep sending them. Even if you throw them away. Even if you burn them. I will keep showing up.

“Why?”

“Because he is my son, Tristan said. He looked up, his gray eyes wet with a raw, agonizing sincerity. “And because I love the woman who raised him. I failed you, Minerva. I am living in that failure every second of every day. But I won’t fail him anymore.” /

“He’s just a man who knew your grandmother,” I said. The lie tasted like ash.

Tristan’s hand dropped from the glass. He didn’t look angry. He looked destroyed. He gave a small, jerky nod and turned away from the window.

He walked back to the porch, set the brown-paper parcel on the chair, and headed toward the gate without looking back.

I watched him go. I felt a tear track down my cheek, but I didn’t wipe it away.

I picked up the carved horse. It was rough. It was simple. It was the most honest thing he had ever ‘given us.

I walked back to Elias and sat on the rug.

“Is he a bad man?” Elias asked, picking up a cup.

“No,” I whispered. I looked at the carved horse in my palm. “He’s just a man who forgot how to be brave.”

I tucked the horse into my pocket.

The silence of the estate felt heavier than before. The public victory was loud, but the private cost was a scream I couldn’t let out.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a message from an unknown number.

The serious man isn’t the only one watching, Minerva. Tell Elias to keep his toys close.