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Marrying Nathan Hawthorne While Pregnant Novel Cover

Marrying Nathan Hawthorne While Pregnant

After marrying Nathan Hawthorne while pregnant, she faced only cold avoidance. When their daughter falls ill, Nathan is busy celebrating his old flame's child's birthday. A horrific fire breaks out, trapping both girls and leaving her daughter to perish in the flames. After the rescue, the surviving child clings to Nathan, calling him father, while his ex-lover looks on with smug satisfaction, sealing a devastating betrayal.
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Chapter 3

3

"Fine, don't eat then." My mother sat down beside me in a huff, poking me hard on the head.

"You're a grown woman. How can you still be so thoughtless?"

My mother launched into a nonstop lecture.

"Lola is gone, and we're all heartbroken. It's not like you're the only one who's sad."

"Just because she's gone, does that mean the rest of us should just stop living?"

"And you even have the nerve to ask Nathan for a divorce."

My mother, in a gesture of pure frustration, gave my arm another light squeeze.

"Do you have any idea how many women would kill to marry Nathan? Have you lost your mind?"

Mrs. Hawthorne chimed in from the side.

"That's right, Genevieve. You're still young. Once you've recovered, you can have more children."

As she spoke, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

"This time, we'll have a boy. Mr. Hawthorne and I have been wanting a grandson for a long time."

Mrs. Hawthorne looked up and shot my mother a look. The two of them shared a knowing smile.

'How ridiculous.'

When I first married into a wealthy family, the entire Hawthorne clan looked down on me, scorning me.

In their eyes, I was just a social-climbing nobody who had schemed her way to the top.

On my first day in the Hawthorne home, I was already pregnant with Lola.

I stood in the enormous living room while Mrs. Hawthorne sat on a leather sofa, sipping her afternoon tea with her pinky delicately raised.

After a few sips, she slowly set her teacup down on the table.

"You must be Genevieve Sinclair."

She looked up and glanced at me.

I took a deep, nervous breath, tightly clutching the hem of my dress.

I nodded.

Mrs. Hawthorne's disdainful gaze swept over me from head to toe before she scoffed.

"A girl from an ordinary family... so uncouth. Sigh. If it weren't for..."

Her eyes flickered to my stomach, and she swallowed the rest of her sentence.

Mrs. Hawthorne waved her hand dismissively. "You can go rest for now. From now on, you'll be obedient here in the Hawthorne family. Don't interfere in Nathan's affairs."

I never forgot what Mrs. Hawthorne said.

In the five years I've been married to Nathan Hawthorne, I never dared to ask where he was going or what he was doing.

After marrying him, I gave up my greatest passion, painting, to obediently stay home and be Nathan Hawthorne's wife and a good mother to Lola.

In the middle of the night, I would often find myself thinking about my dream.

My dream was to have my own art exhibition.

But the Hawthornes would never let me make a public appearance like that.

I'd feel a surge of resentment at times, but then I would see Lola's adorable little face, and I'd bury those feelings deep inside.

Later, when Lola got a little older,

I would often teach her how to draw at home.

I drew little birds for her, flowers, the blue sky.

Sometimes, I would even draw little stories for her, binding them into small booklets.

Lola would take them to kindergarten to share with her friends.

Before long, my stories became a huge hit at her kindergarten.

Lola would come home and pester me to draw more stories for her. Each time, she would look up at me, her little face beaming, and sweetly take my hand.

"Mommy, you're amazing! All my friends love your drawings and the stories you write."

"You're the most popular mom in kindergarten now."

"Mommy, you're my pride and joy."

She would hug my arm tightly, and my heart would burn with a warmth she ignited.

All the coldness I received from Nathan Hawthorne was melted away by Lola's warmth.

I would hold Lola and sigh to myself.

'It doesn't matter if I never have Nathan Hawthorne's love. As long as I have Lola, I'll be fine.'

But now, sitting on the sofa, I clutched Lola's little stuffed rabbit.

The little rabbit still carried Lola's scent.

But my daughter was never coming back.

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