webnovel Chapter 1490: Carrying Her in His Arms
Chapter 1490: Carrying Her in His Arms
"Princess, let me rub your stomach for you," Mrs. Webb said.
Willow Crawford placed her small hand on her belly and murmured softly, "No need, I’ll do it myself."
Morgan Ashworth watched her through the rearview mirror. Her head was lowered, obscuring her face, but tears clung to her long lashes, shimmering and trembling with fragility and beauty, evoking a deep sense of tenderness.
Now, her small hand rested on her own belly, showing just how much she loved the child inside her.
Morgan averted his gaze, sometimes not understanding. If she loved this child so much, why... did she not want the child’s father?
When they decided to separate, couldn’t she have stayed for the child’s sake?
Even when he pleaded with her, she wouldn’t agree.
They soon arrived at the hospital. Morgan got out of the car and opened the back door. Willow got out, her belly protruding.
As soon as her feet hit the ground, she lost her balance and began to fall.
Morgan immediately reached out, wrapping an arm around her slender waist, securing her in his embrace. "Why are you so clumsy? Can’t even walk properly now?"
He reprimanded her harshly, his expression displeased.
Willow looked up at him, sensing the impatience and disdain in his handsome features.
"I can walk by myself." Willow quickly struggled to free herself from his arms, stepping back to distance herself.
At this moment, Mrs. Webb came over to support Willow. "Young Master Ashworth, ever since the princess got pregnant, she’s been on bed rest to protect the baby. Her feet often go numb, sometimes cramping severely to the point of losing feeling. It’s definitely not intentional."
Morgan’s expression shifted. Was bed rest really necessary?
He suddenly realized he had never been a part of Willow’s pregnancy journey, knowing nothing about her and the baby.
Willow looked at Mrs. Webb and directly cut her off, "Mrs. Webb, that’s enough, let’s quickly go in for the prenatal exam and head home afterward."
With that, she headed into the hospital. She already wanted to go home, not wanting to stay with Morgan.
Compared to his sarcastic and harsh words, Willow preferred the solitude and stillness of the sterile underground room to lay with her loneliness.
As for the baby, if he didn’t like it, then she wouldn’t give it to him.
This baby also carried half of the Crawford family’s blood; her relatives would take good care of it.
Willow entered the hospital without looking back.
Morgan stood frozen in place, feeling some regret. He didn’t want to be so sarcastic and bitter himself; he had never been like this before. It made him appear ungraceful and lacking the poise he usually possessed.
But he couldn’t help it.
Seeing her, remembering how heartlessly she abandoned him, he wanted to sting her, make her feel his pain.
She was angry, he knew.
She hadn’t changed at all, still the way he remembered, needing to be coaxed and pampered, her delicate nature as tender as ever.
She still had a bit of a childish temperament, flaring up like an aggravated kitten; she probably didn’t want to deal with him anymore.
Just now, when he held her, her waist was as soft as ever, though her belly was round from pregnancy. Her lower back was still as slender, fitting perfectly into his embrace.
Morgan quickly closed his eyes, forcing himself not to succumb to his turbulent thoughts. He admitted he was somewhat stirred by emotions.
He always felt torn between wanting to be gentle with her and wanting to hold her tightly, to embed her deep within.
...
The hospital was crowded. Morgan hadn’t cleared the area, so everyone was waiting in line.
Willow sat on a bench in the hallway. She hadn’t been feeling well and hadn’t eaten anything; Mrs. Webb had gone to get some hot water.
Just then, a nurse called out, "Miss Willow Crawford, it’s your turn, you may come in now."
Willow immediately tried to stand up.
But a sharp pain shot up from her ankle, and she sank back down, her pale eyes turning red with pain.
Morgan noticed something was wrong and quickly approached, asking quietly, "What’s wrong?"
Now standing above her seated form, Willow didn’t look up, only murmuring, "Can you call Mrs. Webb for me?"
Morgan frowned, "I won’t call her for you. Tell me what you need."
His cold demeanor made Willow’s sense of grievance and sadness surge, "Crack," tears began to fall heavily from her eyes.
She was crying again?
Morgan felt a pang in his heart. He immediately knelt to be on her level, "Willow, don’t cry, did you hear me?"
Willow wiped her tears away erratically, the droplets falling on the back of her hand.
Her teeth bit into her red lip, forcing herself not to cry, not wanting to irritate him further.
Watching her lips turn pale from the pressure, her delicate face, snow-white skin, dark hair, and tearful appearance left him distressed, his blood rushing with tension.
"I’m asking you once more, what’s wrong? Speak up!" He insisted firmly.
Willow’s damp lashes fluttered, her eyes red and watery as she looked at him, her voice soft and broken, "I have a cramp in my foot, I can’t stand."
Morgan immediately pursed his lips, reaching for her slender ankle.
Startled, Willow drew her foot back.
But Morgan gave her no chance. He removed her shoes and socks, his long fingers massaging her ankle. "Is it here that hurts?"
Didn’t he find this bothersome?
Willow nodded, "Yes."
Morgan held her delicate foot in one hand, massaging it with the other.
Willow immediately felt relief from the cramp but blushed at his touch, a rosy tint spreading to her ears. She quickly spoke, "That’s enough, it doesn’t hurt anymore."
Morgan stopped, and Willow hurriedly withdrew her foot.
"Willow Crawford, it’s your turn. Please come in," the nurse urged.
Willow bent down to pick up her socks but struggled with her large belly, her movements awkward. At that moment, Morgan picked up the yellow socks and slipped them onto her feet.
He was helping her put on her socks.
At that moment, whispers of admiration arose from other pregnant women nearby, "Wow, look how gentle and considerate her husband is, helping her with her socks. So envious, all the good husbands belong to someone else."
Willow didn’t know what to say.
Then Morgan suddenly looked up at her, "Can you walk by yourself?"
"What?" Willow didn’t understand.
The next second, Morgan stood up, effortlessly lifting her from the bench.
Holding her with ease, carrying her fluffy shoes, he carried her directly into the 4D ultrasound room.