She Posted My Delivery-Room Photo，He Said It Was Just a Joke

Chapter 2

It was raining the day I was discharged.

Adrian sent a driver to pick me up. By the time I got home, the housekeeper had finished the nursery.

Holding my baby, I opened the door beside the master bedroom and stopped.

The music room was unrecognizable—the carpet had been replaced with meditation cushions, paintings hung on the walls, and calming incense burned in a corner.

My music room had become a meditation room.

I turned, walked to the end of the hall, and opened the storage-room door. The smell of mildew hit me at once.

The cello that had been with me for 10 years was shoved into a corner beside piles of old boxes. A thin layer of dust covered its body.

"Why is my cello in the storage room?"

My voice was quiet. If I spoke any louder, I was afraid I would lose control of myself.

Adrian walked up behind me and straightened my collar.

"You're home. Was the baby fussy on the way back?"

He reached for our son, but I turned aside.

His hand hung in the air. He looked at me, then slowly lowered it.

"What's wrong? You just got home, and you're already in a mood?"

I asked again, "Why is my cello in the storage room?"

His expression stayed casual—he didn't see a problem.

"Chloe needs somewhere quiet—the doctor said meditation would help."

He put an arm around my shoulders and tried to steer me toward the bedroom.

"You just gave birth—your incision hasn't healed. You won't be able to play for 6 months anyway. Wouldn't leaving the room empty be a waste?"

I stayed where I was and didn't push his hand away.

"It's the only music room in the house."

Adrian chuckled and squeezed the back of my neck.

"When you feel like playing again in a couple of years, I'll buy another house and build you an entire concert hall. Happy?"

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I took it out. My mentor had sent me a screenshot of an email—the orchestra board had rejected my comeback audition.

The name Adrian Cole appeared near the top of the board's roster.

Not long after, he came in carrying the restorative soup the housekeeper had made and set it on my nightstand.

"I turned it down for you."

He slowly stirred the soup and blew on it several times.

"If you force a comeback in your condition, you'll only make a fool of yourself. You can't handle the orchestra's workload."

He held the spoon to my lips, looking at me with such tenderness that no one could have found fault with him.

"I gave the spot to Chloe. She needs it more to rebuild her confidence."

I said nothing. My hand tightened at my side until my nails dug into my palm.

"I've spent 5 years preparing for that audition."

Adrian set down the bowl, wrapped me in his arms, and rested his chin on my head.

"I'm your husband. I can support you for life. Even if you never play again, you'll still be Mrs. Cole."

After a pause, he added, "But Chloe has nothing left except me."

His hand patted my back gently.

"You're so kind. You understand, don't you?"

His steady heartbeat sounded beside my ear—steady, one after another.

I used to love resting in his arms, convinced that no storm outside could ever reach me there.

Now my chest felt so tight I could barely breathe.

"I'm tired. I want to sleep."

Adrian didn't press. He tucked the blanket around me and carried the untouched soup to his study.

That night, the baby's temperature rose slightly, so I went to the study to find a thermometer.

Adrian's phone lay on the desk. The screen lit up with a w******p message from Chloe.

Chloe: If Natalie finds out you personally asked the orchestra to give me her spot, will she be mad at me?

I stood at the desk, staring at the words.

2 seconds later, Adrian's reply appeared.

Adrian: She's a mature mother who knows what's best for everyone. She'll understand.