"How are you feeling?" "I'm fine." "Are you sure? Your wounds are not hurting at all?" "Yes." The frustration on Garren's face is discernible while he's talking to his son. Greyson is still maintaining his cold treatment. It may seem strange, but I feel a bit of pity towards him. I know he's trying hard, but Greyson's resentment has reached the hilt. But on the other hand, he deserves that anyway. He needs to taste a dose of his own medicine. It's time for him to suffer. "Do you like that beef casserole? I asked Aunt Cora to cook that because I know that's your favorite." He's still keeping the enthusiasm in his voice. I listen to them while folding my used clothes. When Garren went back, he surprisingly brought clothes for me too. He said that Cynthia had handed him that for me. "It's actually beef brisket that I love, but still, thank you. I don't want to be an ungrateful brat," Greyson replied in a monotonous tone. From my peripheral vision, I saw how embarrassment flashed across his face. "R-Really? I didn't know." "You don't know anything about me anyway. I'm not surprised at all." The laugh that Garren let out was obviously awkward. "Finish your meal, and drink your pain medicine afterward." The kid just nodded. Garren stood up and was supposed to pat his son's head, but the latter avoided his hands. He heaved out a sigh. "I will go out for a while." He turned to me. "Cleo, look after Greyson." "Noted, sir." When he stormed off the room, I stopped what I was doing and sat on the chair beside Greyson. The corner of my mouth tugged upward. "What you did was actually great!" He slowly removed his emotionless expression and pouted. "Dad looked so sad earlier. I don't think I can do this anymore. I feel guilty." I enclosed his hands in mine. "Greyson, your dad deserves it. He's been a real jerk towards you. Do you think he will learn his lesson if you just easily forgive him?" He reluctantly shook his head. "That's right. Even though he really regrets neglecting you, he still needs to make an effort to make amends with you. That way, we can assure that he won't do the same thing anymore." He sighed. "Fine." I beamed. "Good." Yep. This is all my plan. I was the one who gave Greyson the idea to give his father the cold shoulders. This kid is really soft-hearted because he felt extremely guilty and wanted to apologize to him when he shunned him away. But I told him that it wasn't him who should be apologizing but Garren, because he was the one who treated him badly. So I propounded that he continue brushing him off for the reasons I mentioned. Of course, the confrontation wasn't on me, as well as the cold and silent treatment he gave Garren this morning. I was only responsible for the continuance. Like I said, he deserves it. He needs to learn his lesson the hard way, or else he may just make the same mistakes again. Fine. I won't deny it. I also have a hidden motive for doing such thing. This is my way of getting back to Garren with all the horrible things he did and told me. Since I can't fight him back directly, I might as well manipulate the situation in my favor. We While he's redeeming himself as a father to Greyson, I'm having my sweet little vengeance by witnessing his torture. It's like hitting two birds with one stone. But still... my intention of stitching their son and father relationship, like what I promised, is genuine. I just really need to alleviate my rage towards that man so I can finally move on. Needless to say, that day went really well, except for Garren. When Monday morning came, Greyson was released from the hospital. The doctor advised him not to engage in strenuous activities until all of his bruises and injuries had healed completely. So Garren decided not to make him attend school for the whole week. His son didn't concur with that decision at first, but he didn't have any choice because his father was steadfast. "Greyson!" Aunt Esther's agitated face greeted us as soon as we arrived at the mansion. Cynthia and the other maids are also waiting on the doorway. She was supposed to hug him but stopped after seeing the bandages on his body. "W-What happened?" I guess Garren hadn't told her. "I'll explain later. For now, bring him to his room," Garren butted in. Cynthia suddenly nudged me. My forehead puckered when I saw the malicious expression on her face. "What?" I grouched. "You and Sir Garren looked like husband and wife earlier, with Greyson as your child. I have a crush on him, but I'm willing to surrender if you two admit your relationship. You two are matches made in heaven anyway, " she teased me, wiggling her eyebrows. My face screwed up. Where the hell did she even get that idea? The prospect of us having a romantic connection is absurd and far-fetched. We're poles apart, unfit fragments of a puzzle even. "You're high. Stop sniffing high drugs," I retorted before leaving her. Aunt Esther left after a while after we brought Greyson to his room as she had other things to do. "If you feel any pain, tell me, alright?" He nodded. "Do you want to eat something?" "Nope. I just want to sleep again." He yawned. I frowned. I noticed that he has become really sleepy ever since he's hospitalized. Is that somehow a side-effect of the medicine that he's taking? "Stop worrying about me, Cleo. I just got really tired of the long drive, even though I was just sitting." He giggled. I chuckled. "Fine, señorito. Go to sleep now. I'll just wake you up for lunch." That afternoon, I went to Ridley University to inform his teacher that he would not be able to attend the class for the whole week. I explained the why, but I didn't disclose everything, of course. It's Tuesday morning, I was already done with my morning rituals and was about to go upstairs when a delicious smell caught my attention. I headed to the kitchen. "Aunt Cora! What are you cooking? That smells good-" I pursed my lips when I saw that it wasn't her who's currently cooking... but Garren. "What are you doing here?" I seemed to swallow my tongue when he faced me, wearing nothing on top but a black apron. His arms are pretty big. A flush crept up to my cheeks. What the hell did I just think?! I quickly averted my gaze from him. "I-I thought it was Aunt Cora, sir." "I took the responsibility from her." "Why?" I asked curiously. He arched his brow. "Give me one valid reason to answer your question." I internally rolled my eyes. He could just answer my question instead of dilly-dallying. "I'm cooking for Greyson," he said afterward. I gave him a "you're-doing-what?" look. "Stop looking at me like that." He hissed. "Sorry, sir. I was just surprised that you can cook." Perhaps this is part of his plan to make amends to Greyson. Garren didn't respond, so I took that as a signal for me to leave. However, I hadn't even taken a single step when he called my name. "Yes, sir?" I shammed a smile. I'm trying not to get distracted by the fact that he's naked under that thin fabric, but his exposed arms aren't helping, especially the black ink that I assume is a tattoo. It's stirring curiosity in me. "What does Greyson like and dislike?" His question pulled me out of my trance. I cleared my throat. "Greyson loves playing arcade games, especially the claw machine." My memory harked back to those times when we had a great time at the mall. He looked so happy. "What is an arcade?" My jaw dropped to the floor. "You don't know that?" "I'm not going to ask if I do." He must have had a boring and sad childhood. "It's like an amusement center with various games. If you go to the mall, you can spot one," I answered. "So it's like a casino?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows. I mentally slapped my forehead. How can he be so ignorant about this thing?! "No. The Arcade is far from a casino because the former has no liquor whatsoever. There's no gambling in arcade centers either, but you need to use money in order to play games." He shrugged his shoulders. "I kinda get it now. Proceed." "He loves stuffed toys, specifically cartoon character stuffed toys like Stitch and SpongeBob. He also loves drawing and arts." "I'll keep those in mind." I was expecting him to say "thank you", but he didn't. I scrunched up my face. Why did I even reckon that he was going to do that? Perhaps those two words only come out of his mouth once in a blue moon. I excused myself and went upstairs. I knocked on Greyson's room before I entered. He's lying on the bed while reaching his hands toward the ceiling. "Are you okay?" He pouted his lips. "I'm bored. I want to go out and play." I heaved out a sigh. "Unfortunately, you can't do that until you are fully healed. You need to wait for more days." Someone suddenly opened the door. Greyson quickly removed all the emotions from his face after seeing that it was his father, carrying a platter with him. I mentally laughed. I must say, this kid is a good actor. "What's that?" he asked with a stoic face. He put the platter on the table and opened the cover. The scrumptious smell of the barbeque sauce pervaded my nose. Even Greyson can't stop himself; his eyes are sparkling while looking at the dish served in front of us. "You mentioned last time that you love beef brisket, so I made you one. But I put barbecue sauce to level up the taste." None of us responded. He sheepishly scratched his cheeks. "Uh, it's been a long time since I cooked, so I can't assure you that this will be really great. But I swear, I did my best to cook this dish." I looked at Greyson. He's manifesting an emotionless facade, but his eyes can't lie. Garren got a slice of the beef and transferred it to a saucer. He sat on the left side of the bed. "D-Do you want to try it?" The shaking of his voice can attest that he's nervous. Greyson reluctantly got the fork from him and took a bite of the meat. For a quiet while, silence reigned in that room. The way Garren is just watching his son carefully and not moving a muscle while waiting for the child's verdict is hilarious to me. "So how was it?" He asked with bated breath. "Hmmm..." I know this mischievous kid wants to see his father on pins and needles. "It was good," he said monotonously, but the way he's eyeing the dish says otherwise. Garren let out a sigh of relief. "Starting now, I'll try to cook more often."