Accidental Marriage with the CEO: Unwanted Bride
Chapter 40: My wife

Chapter 40: My wife

"I hope I didn’t interrupt you both?" Grandpa asked with a satisfied smile.

Patricia quickly started to respond, "No..." But Roman cut in without hesitation, "Yes, you did."

Patricia cleared her throat awkwardly and tried again. "What are you here for, Grandpa? Let me take you in," she said, stepping beside him.

"Ah! I have been meaning to see you since you arrived at the estate, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I took my time. My unfaithful grandson kept your affairs hidden from me," Grandpa replied, casting a disapproving glance at Roman as Patricia gently guided him out of the kitchen.

"It’s alright, Grandpa. I am doing well," Patricia reassured him with a soft smile as they reached the living room.

Roman casually took a seat in one of the armchairs, and Patricia was about to sit next to Grandpa when he gestured toward Roman and said, "I would like to speak to both of you. Please, sit beside him."

She hesitated briefly before obeying and took her seat next to Roman.

"I hope you both won’t mind what I am about to ask," Grandpa said, his tone both curious and sincere.

"We do mind," Roman replied dryly.

"Let him talk," Patricia scolded softly, shooting him a look. Roman faced away with a small huff.

"Grandpa, please ask away," Patricia said warmly, encouraging him with a smile.

Grandpa leaned forward slightly. "When are you both planning to have kids?"

"What?!" Patricia blurted out, utterly shocked. He hadn’t even bothered to sugarcoat it.

Roman turned to her with a smug ’told-you-so’ expression, and she immediately glared at him before shifting her gaze elsewhere. As much as she regretted reacting so strongly, there was no way she would admit it in front of him.

"I know my grandson can be difficult at times," Grandpa began, his voice gentle, "but I can promise you, he would never mistreat you or your child, not while I am alive. And your position as the second wife shouldn’t trouble you. You will be cherished and loved, just like the first."

He spoke earnestly, unaware that the real issue had nothing to do with titles. Patricia didn’t want to be any man’s second option, least of all Roman’s, who had never once shown her the affection a woman deserved.

If this was how he treated her now, before she had a child, how much worse would it be afterward? He would likely discard her, then raise her child with Michelle. No, she couldn’t let that happen.

"Grandpa, are you not aware?" She asked carefully, unsure if Roman had told him anything about their deal.

Grandpa blinked in confusion, then turned to Roman, his expression puzzled.

Patricia began, "Roman and I will be getting di..."

But Roman cut her off, voice steady, "We will work on making a baby soon, Grandpa. No need to worry about us."

Patricia turned to him sharply, confused. Why was he cutting her off now?

"But..." she began again. She could not understand why he was hiding it from his Grandpa. It would be known anyway once they divorced, of what use was it to hide it?

Roman interrupted once more. "My wife is still recovering, Grandpa. You can visit another time."

Clicking his tongue and standing up, Grandpa muttered, "What an unfilial son. I was never planning to visit you anyway."

He shot Roman a pointed frown, but Roman remained unbothered, completely unaffected by the jab.

Grandpa turned to Patricia and walked up to her, taking her hand gently in his. "I will come visit you once you have fully recovered. Be sure to take care of yourself, alright? I have so many things to share with you," he said, winking at her with a knowing smile.

Patricia widened her eyes in surprise and instinctively turned to Roman, silently seeking clarification.

She was about to tell him that she would be leaving the house once she was well enough, but Roman spoke a heartbeat before she could.

"Yes, now please leave," he said curtly.

Grandpa clicked his tongue at his grandson, clearly unimpressed, but offered them both a brief farewell.

Patricia tried to follow him out. "I should see him off," she said, but Roman stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"There’s no need. He came here for me too," he said with finality.

"But he came to see me, it would be rude not to," she insisted, attempting to take a different route around him.

Before she could take another step, he caught her wrist and, in one swift motion, lifted her off the ground.

"Put me down!" She snapped, glaring furiously at him.

"No. You need rest. And Grandpa has an entourage waiting for him outside," he replied firmly as he carried her toward her room, completely unfazed by her resistance.

Grandpa turned back to glance at them and smiled quietly to himself as he watched them argue. He was genuinely pleased to see the two finally speaking, even if it was through bickering.

Though he hadn’t visited them until now, he had kept a close eye through his well-placed sources. In the beginning, he had been worried, they barely spoke, and the atmosphere between them had seemed tense. But now, he realized what they needed was simply time.

He knew his stubborn grandson far too well, after all, he raised Roman himself. It would take time, yes, but Roman would eventually warm up to her.

Grandpa did feel a pang of guilt for Michelle, especially considering the promise they made to her late parents. But if fate had decided otherwise, then no one, not even he, could force what wasn’t meant to be. When the time was right, he would help Michelle find a perfect match of her own.

Roman carried Patricia into her room and gently lowered her onto the bed, tucking her in despite her annoyed protests.

"I don’t want to sleep. I am hungry," she complained, fuming at him for dragging her back against her will.

"Tell me what you want. I will get it ready and bring it to you," he said calmly, surprising her.

She blinked, then slowly sat up, a mischievous idea forming in her mind. "Do you mean that?" She asked sweetly, inwardly smirking at the devious plan she was hatching.

"Yes," he replied, his tone casual, innocent even, only fueling her desire to make him suffer just a little.

"Alright then," she began, her voice laced with mock innocence, "I want freshly made crab soup, and I mean freshly caught crab, and homemade noodles. No pre-packaged stuff. Everything should be made from scratch. Oh, and pineapple juice, freshly blended. Not boxed, not bottled. Completely fresh."

She knew exactly what she was doing. Getting a live crab alone would require a trip to the distant market, nearly an hour from the estate. The local stores only carried canned or frozen goods. And with Kay nowhere around, Roman would have to do the whole errand himself.

To her utter disbelief, Roman responded without blinking, "I will be back."

She stared at him, eyes wide. Wait... did he just agree to that?!