Chapter 761 A Mother’s Softness

“Cake?”

The word instantly tugged Yunice’s thoughts back to Mindy. Last night had been Mindy’s birthday. She had left too soon, missing the moment to share her daughter’s cake. Mindy must have been heartbroken.

She walked to the fridge, opened it, and there it was: a small cake carefully placed inside. Earlier that morning, Yunice had insisted Wyatt take Mindy to school so the child wouldn’t see her still burdened with accusations. But the memory of Mindy’s tear-streaked face, red from crying over her mother’s slander, filled Yunice with guilt.

She took out the cake, set up her phone to record, and smiled as she took dainty bites, praising Mindy with affectionate words. After checking the video and finding nothing wrong, she sent it straight to her daughter.

But when she lowered the phone, her eyes fell on the half-eaten cake.

It tasted faintly sour.

She frowned, sighed softly. Had she gone too far? Lately, the hospital’s reputation had drawn more and more complex cases. She gave nearly all her time to patients, leaving so little for her child. Yet these early years were when a child needed their parents most.

After a long pause, she reopened the video and added a line: “I’ll take a month off. We’ll go traveling together, just you and me.”

Within three seconds, Mindy’s delighted voice message came back: “Mindy’s wish came true! Birthday wishes are magic! Mommy, I want more birthdays!”

Yunice couldn’t help but laugh, though the joy was tinged with guilt. She owed her daughter too much.

That night, she filed her leave, packed up, and went home. The family bustled happily, preparing for the trip ahead.

Wyatt noticed first. Yunice’s face had gone pale, twisted in pain.

“What’s wrong?” He was instantly alert.

“N–nothing…” Yunice tried to brush it off, but another spasm gripped her, and her lips trembled.

Wyatt moved quickly to her side, his palm finding her forehead—clammy and cold.

“You ate something bad?” His voice dropped, carrying the weight of command. “What was it?”

“Mindy’s cake… maybe it had gone a little sour…” Her voice was faint, another wave of pain forcing a soft moan past her lips.

“Reckless!” His tone carried reproach, but his eyes betrayed worry.

He strode out, rummaged briefly, and returned with warm water and stomach medicine.

Yunice was curled on the sofa, sweat dampening her temples. Wyatt crouched, sighing as he handed her the cup.

“Still hurting?” His low voice was full of concern, though edged with frustration. “All this just to make Mindy happy? You’re too stubborn.”

She sipped the water slowly, the roiling in her stomach easing slightly. Her lips tugged into a helpless pout. “I didn’t want to… But Mindy saved that piece just for me. She said it was the sweetest part, because I work so hard. How could I refuse?”

She thought of Mindy’s eager face, delivering cake in the middle of the night, and felt that no matter the pain, it had been worth it.

Wyatt sat beside her, his palm pressing gently against her abdomen, massaging with careful warmth.

“Her heart matters, but your health matters more. If she knew you were in pain, it would break her.” He paused, firm. “Tomorrow’s trip is off. You’re staying home to rest.”

“Shhh!” Yunice pressed a finger to her lips, panic flashing in her eyes. She darted a look toward the child’s room and whispered urgently, “Not so loud! Don’t let Mindy hear! We promised her—how can we break our word? She’s waited so long. I’ll be fine, really. Just weak. By morning it’ll pass.”

Wyatt looked at her—this woman, worn thin but still holding herself up just so her daughter wouldn’t be disappointed. His chest tightened, his resolve softened. He knew he couldn’t fight her stubborn tenderness.

After a moment, he leaned close, resting his forehead gently against hers. His voice was a mix of indulgence and affection. “Fine. Tomorrow, you and Mindy both ride on the suitcase. I’ll push you. You save your strength—no more playing hero.”

Yunice blinked at the absurd image: Wyatt, tall and stoic, pushing a massive suitcase with their giggling daughter perched on top, herself beside her trying not to laugh.

The picture was so ridiculous, she burst into laughter, color finally returning to her pale cheeks.

“How childish! I’m far too old to ride a suitcase.”