Secretly Married for 4 Years, He Regrets to Tears After the Divorce

Chapter 267: Chapter 267: Does He Know You’re Pregnant?

Wren Sutton followed the direction Adrian Lancaster pointed.

The sky was high and the clouds were wisps, the sunlight warm. It was as if she could truly feel a gentle gaze watching over her.

She didn’t pull away from Adrian’s embrace, simply nodding and humming softly in agreement.

The calm had returned to her eyes, along with a glimmer of relief.

A moment later, Adrian spoke. "Let’s head back."

Wren averted her gaze. "Okay."

The two of them walked back the way they came.

Just as they reached the gate to their small courtyard, they saw Finn Foster walking over from his own yard, carrying a large, heavy tray.

His eyes lit up when he saw them, a simple, honest smile spreading across his tanned face.

"Sis, brother-in-law, you’re back! Perfect timing. My granny just finished making breakfast and told me to bring it over right away. It’s still hot."

On the tray was a platter piled high with steaming buns, a large bowl of thick, golden millet congee, and a plate of homemade pickled cucumbers, their vibrant green color promising a crisp bite.

"Granny Foster is too kind. How can we accept this? She made a huge feast last night, and now she’s made buns this morning and had you make a special trip." Wren hurried forward, her voice full of apology.

"Sis, what’s there to be so formal about with me?" Finn Foster grinned, revealing two rows of neat, white teeth.

"Granny said that since you came back on short notice, it must be inconvenient to cook. Plus, with two little babies to look after, you must be swamped."

"The buns are filled with bok choy and pork. We used the fresh autumn bok choy from our garden. It’s really sweet. You have to try them."

As he spoke, he stepped sideways into the main room and placed the tray steadily on the dining table.

Just then, Mrs. Sutton heard his voice and came out of the bedroom.

"Oh, it’s young Finn! Thank you for your trouble. And please thank Granny for us, she’s gone to so much effort."

Mrs. Sutton was all smiles as she reached out and carefully took the heavy bowl of millet congee.

"Come on, sit down and eat with us."

"No, thanks, Auntie. I already ate at home. I’m full."

Finn Foster waved his hands repeatedly, his smile earnest and simple.

"As for the bowls, chopsticks, and plates, just leave them here when you’re done. I’ll come by to collect them later."

With that, he turned like a gust of wind and dashed back to the yard next door.

Inside the house, the warm aroma of congee and buns filled the air.

Adrian Lancaster pushed the stroller to a corner near the dining table, a spot that was sunny but not in direct light.

Owen and Nina lay side by side in the stroller, each hugging their own bottle, their little mouths suckling with great relish.

Their big, dark eyes darted around from time to time, curiously observing the busy adults and the food on the table.

The family gathered around the table.

Mr. Sutton picked up a bun. It was soft and warm in his hand. He passed it to his wife first.

"They’re best when they’re hot."

Mrs. Sutton took it and gently broke it open. A cloud of steam washed over her, a mixture of the fresh bok choy’s sweetness and the rich aroma of pork.

The filling was generous, and its juices had slightly soaked into the thin dough.

"This looks delicious. I’m not going to wait. I’ll start, and you all eat too."

Wren picked up a bun and took a bite.

The unique, crisp tenderness and sweetness of the fresh bok choy perfectly balanced the richness of the fatty pork, leaving a lingering fragrance in her mouth.

She chewed slowly. This familiar taste seemed to carry the scent of morning dew from the vegetable garden.

"Granny Foster’s buns are so delicious. They taste just like I remember."

"Adrian, you eat too. They won’t be as good when they get cold." Mr. Sutton handed Adrian a bun.

Adrian took it. "Thanks, Dad."

He rarely ate this kind of bun. He took a bite and found it was much, much better than he’d imagined. It had a simple, honest flavor, mixed with the rich taste of home.

Just then, Mrs. Sutton ladled out four bowls of millet congee. It was golden in color, with a glossy layer of rice-skin on top.

"Congee made with new rice is always the most fragrant."

She placed the first bowl beside her husband, then served her daughter and son-in-law.

"The heat was just right, too. It’s been cooked long enough for the skin to form."

Mr. Sutton took a sip. The warm, smooth congee slid down his throat, and a gentle warmth spread from his stomach.

"Mm, this is Granny’s cooking. It’s tasted the same for years. So heartwarming."

As he spoke, he glanced at the stroller and saw Owen and Nina contentedly kicking their legs as they drank their milk.

"Hahaha, look at these two little ones. They’re enjoying their meal, too."

At the table, the pickled cucumbers were the perfect finishing touch.

Adrian picked some up with his chopsticks, placing them by Wren’s bowl before taking some for himself. He ate them with his congee and bun, thoroughly enjoying the refreshing taste.

There wasn’t much conversation at the table, just the occasional murmur: "These buns are really good," "The pickles are just right," "The congee is delicious."

Most of the time was filled with the silent understanding of adults passing dishes and ladling congee for one another, with gentle gazes that occasionally swept over the two little ones in the stroller, and with the soft clinking of bowls and chopsticks...

After the meal, everyone packed their luggage, preparing to return to the city.

When they heard the family was leaving, Granny Foster and the other neighbors gathered.

The old osmanthus tree in the yard was in full bloom, its sweet fragrance drifting on the breeze and settling on people’s shoulders and hair.

Granny Foster was carrying a large bamboo basket covered with a blue cloth.

"These are from the jujube and persimmon trees in our yard, and some wild chestnuts we picked from the back mountain,"

In the basket, bright red persimmons were stacked neatly, crisp jujubes shone with a glossy sheen, and there was a bag of chestnuts still in their spiny burrs.

"Granny, we already troubled you this morning. How can we possibly take more?" Wren’s heart felt warm as she looked at the full basket, but she also felt it was too much.

"It’s the autumn harvest. You should enjoy it while it’s fresh. Take it. We’ve been neighbors our whole lives, what’s there to be so formal about with your old granny?"

After she spoke, Granny Foster gave Finn Foster a look. He immediately took the basket with a cheerful laugh and placed it in the car’s trunk.

Then, he turned and brought over a rustic-looking clay jar.

"Sis, brother-in-law, this is wine made from this year’s new glutinous rice. It hasn’t even been unsealed from the cellar yet. Granny said to fill a jar for you to try first. It’ll be even more mellow by the New Year."

The other neighbors also began stuffing things they had brought from their own homes into the trunk.

"Freshly dug peanuts from our field, just boiled. They’re still warm. For the road."

"Dried pumpkin slices, no additives at all. Good for the babies to teethe on."

"Wild hawthorns from the mountain, all washed. You can infuse them in water to drink. It’s a good appetizer."

"Apples picked from the tree this morning, no pesticides."

"Corn we just picked from the fields. It tastes like it did when we were kids, not like that sweet corn they sell now."

"Here’s a bag of dried green beans, too."

Soon, the trunk was stuffed full with the neighbors’ gifts, and the air filled with the rich, sweet aroma of fruits and grains.

"This is too much." Mrs. Sutton and Mr. Sutton looked at this heavy show of affection, too moved to know what to say.

"It’s all just stuff from the fields, we have plenty. Don’t be strangers."

"Claire is like our own daughter, and her husband is a good man. You rarely get to come back. We don’t have anything valuable to give, just some fresh fruits and vegetables. We hope you don’t mind."

"Thank you all for your kindness."

Adrian Lancaster earnestly thanked every neighbor, and he gave a particularly sincere thanks to Granny Foster for all her hard work and generosity.

"Granny, when you have time, have Finn bring you to the city for a few days. I’ll personally host you."

"And to all the neighboring aunties, if you ever need any help in the future, please don’t hesitate to find me. Finn has my contact information."

The neighbors’ faces beamed with joy. "The son-in-law is too kind. As long as you treat Claire well and live a good life together, that’s all that makes us happy."

"Of course. I will not only be good to my wife and children, but I will also be a filial son to my parents-in-law," Adrian promised solemnly.

"What a great son-in-law!"

Amidst the neighbors’ reluctant goodbyes, the car slowly started and drove away from Avenia.

Wren lowered the car window and took one last look back.

The small courtyard with its white walls and black tiles, the curling wisps of cooking smoke, the old camphor tree at the village entrance, and the sight of Granny Foster, supported by Finn, standing at her osmanthus-scented gate, waving nonstop...

The car rounded a mountain pass, and the familiar village disappeared from view, but a faint, sweet scent of osmanthus seemed to linger in the air.

"Next time, when it’s almost the New Year, let’s come back again and bring some holiday gifts for Granny Foster and the neighbors."

"Okay," Adrian replied, his voice steady and resolute, full of anticipation.

On the way back to the city, Wren received a call from her best friend, Isla Griffith. Her voice was trembling slightly. "I’m pregnant."

Wren’s heart skipped a beat. She instinctively asked, "Does Sean Sterling know?"

Isla was silent for a moment. "I haven’t told him."