Chapter 20

Chapter 20 Won’t Let Him Down 

After cleaning up the kitchen, Yolanda walked out and saw Antwan still sitting in the dining room. Since he looked pale and kept clutching his abdomen, she presumed he was having a stomachache. 

But she acted as if she hadn’t noticed anything and walked into the living room to clean up. 

“Get me the stomach pills,” he said. 

“Can’t you do it yourself?” she asked. 

“You’re my maid.” 

She nodded and went to the living room without saying another word. Then she took out the first–aid kit from the drawer at the bottom of the coffee table and brought it back to the dining room. 

“Some stomach pills. They don’t work at all,” Antwan said. 

“How so?” 

“I took some last night, but it didn’t get any better.” 

The old habit when she had been a doctor flared up, and she asked him details about symptoms and if he had been drinking too much or skipping meals lately. Then she opened the kit, where the usual stomach pills were right on top, and checked the expiration date. 

“Don’t eat anything before you take these pills, and they work the best with nutritional supplements. See? These are nutritional supplement tablets. Take two, and you’ll be fine.” 

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She measured out the doses, put them in his hand, and reminded him to have breakfast regularly. 

Then she checked the first–aid kit and took out all the expired pills. 

Seeing her being busy while muttering, he couldn’t help but smile, and then, a sense of loss overwhelmed him. 

“If you still don’t feel well, you’d better go to the hospital for a check–up. Stomach issues can be serious.” 

With that, Yolanda habitually reached for her white coat’s pocket, only to feel the air. She realized something, and her expression darkened. 

In a deeper voice, she said, “Go get a check–up soon. If it’s cancer, you can make plans soon.” 

Antwan had just taken the pills. Choking on her words, he nearly spat out 

the water. 

“If I die, you’re gonna cry your eyes out,” he said. 

“I don’t give a damn whether you die or not.” 

After saying this, she turned to leave to go back and oversee the remodeling progress. Though Caiden was there, her opinion was necessary. 

“Antwan, I wanna eat the pasta you make,” Jaslyn said while going downstairs, and then she walked into the living room. 

Antwan’s gaze shifted from the bottle in his hand to his wristwatch; it was time for him to go to work. 

“Regular pasta?” he asked. 

“With seafood,” Jaslyn said while watching TV. 

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“Then I have to go to the supermarket for the ingredients. How about I order you takeout?” 

“No. I don’t trust takeout food,” she said without looking back. 

Seeing this, he could only put away the bottle and headed out to the supermarket. 

When he stepped out of the villa, he saw Yolanda helping the workers carry in flooring panels, and they were chatting happily. Clearly, she was in a great mood. 

In fact, she was. Her little vendetta during breakfast was childish, but it indeed helped vent her anger. 

“Ms. Nielsen, the room at the far west end of the second floor is locked. Do you have the key?” Caiden came downstairs. 

She put down the floor panels, took a string of keys from the drawer of the cabinet in the entryway, and then went up to the second floor together with Caiden. She really hadn’t paid attention to this room before. In fact, the only room on the second floor she had ever been inside was the master bedroom. 

She tried all the keys, but none of them worked. 

Pondering, she figured maybe Brent had it locked on purpose–he didn’t want anyone else to go inside. 

She took out her phone to ask him. 

He was probably having dinner and replied very quickly. 

“Maybe the key’s missing. Have them break the lock.” 

She did as he said. Every corner of the room was covered in a thick layer 

of dust; maybe no one had set foot in here for years. It wasn’t exactly a 

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large room with only a piano covered by a cloth. 

Yolanda lifted the cloth and realized the piano was a quite expensive one. 

“He knows how to play the piano?” she turned back and asked Caiden. 

Caiden avoided eye contact. “Yeah… A little.” 

She didn’t ask more. Everyone had a past, and she was no exception. 

Instead, she said, “Be careful when moving the piano. We don’t want any dents or scratches, right?” 

Being a dutiful maid, she went to Antwan’s villa to make lunch at noon. Planning on making pierogi, she bought some meat as the fillings and started chopping in the kitchen. Soon, Antwan came down, irritated by the loud noise. 

“Keep it down, OK? Jaslyn is sleeping!” 

She was surprised to see him at home and asked, “Why didn’t you go to the company?” 

“I’m taking a day off,” he said impatiently 

“You made seafood pasta this morning?” There was still some left in the pot. 

“Yes.” 

“It’s amazing. You know how to cook?” 

She used to think without her, he’d starve to death. 

“I’m not as good as you,” he said. 

She laughed out loud. “I’m so flattered to be complimented by my ex.” 

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Antwan walked into the kitchen and actually started to wash the breakfast dishes. He had never done this before and accidentally broke a plate. 

“Oh, no!” Her heart was broken at the same time. 

The plate belonged to an expensive set she had chosen. 

In fact, she had bought everything in the kitchen, and she loved them all. 

“Big whoop,” Antwan muttered and crouched to clean up. 

“You’re so clumsy!” she complained. 

“I’ll compensate you for it, OK?” 

They bickered for a while like they had done in the past, only to realize things had changed. 

She turned around and continued to chop with greater force. 

Jaslyn walked down the stairs when it was time for lunch. She looked pale and still sleepy. 

Women reacted differently to pregnancy. Some had a poor appetite, some felt tired easily, and some just wanted to sleep all day long. 

She sat by the table, and Yolanda placed a plate of pierogi in front of her. 

“Be quieter when you cook, OK? I couldn’t even sleep,” Jaslyn said, visibly displeased. 

Yolanda tried not to gloat. “Sorry, but I tend to make all kinds of noises when I cook.” 

“Yolanda, I’m pregnant. Be considerate, will you?” 

“I’ll try.” 

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“You must.” Jaslyn’s voice grew deeper. “You better learn to be a good maid to better serve me.” 

Serve her? How arrogant. 

Jaslyn took a bite of the pierogi and found it had no flavor at all. 

“Did you forget salt?” she asked. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

Then Jaslyn took another bite and still felt the same. She looked at Antwan beside her, who was relishing his food with big mouthfuls, and then her gaze inadvertently swept over Yolanda’s bandaged finger. 

“What happened to your hand?” 

“It got hurt when I was chopping,” Yolanda said nonchalantly. 

Jaslyn curled her lip. “Be careful. Or you may lose a finger.” 

“This time, I didn’t. But a chunk of flesh did fall off–it’s mixed with the fillings, I think.” 

Jaslyn had just taken a bite of the pierogi, and she hurriedly spat it out. 

“You…” 

She couldn’t help but rush to the bathroom and retch again. 

Yolanda snorted softly. The truth was, she got a scratch accidentally when moving the floor panels. 

“Be more careful from now on,” Antwan said while keeping eating. 

She looked at him. “Save it. I don’t need your fake concern!” 

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He finished a plate of pierogi, stood up, looked at her, and said teasingly, “I’m starting to look forward to dinner.” 

She squinted, thinking, “I surely won’t let you down.”