Letting Him Hold Me

"You've got to be kidding me! How could I be sweeter than this ice cream?" Mark retorted, his face flushing red. He was happy with Alex's words, but to cover up his embarrassment, he pretended to dismiss the compliment.

"Of course you are! To me, my wife is way sweeter than any ice cream," Alex replied with a smile, leaning down to plant a kiss on Mark's lips.

Mark huffed softly. "Liar."

Though he acted annoyed, it was clear he was pleased. Alex considered teasing Mark more, but knowing that Mark might actually get upset, he decided to stop.

With a loving smile, Alex gently patted Mark's head and asked, "Are you hungry?"

Mark blinked, taken aback by Alex's sudden seriousness. After a moment, he rubbed his stomach and replied in a soft voice, "Yeah, I'm starving."

"What do you want to eat? I'll have it all brought up," Alex offered, kissing Mark on the forehead before taking the tub of ice cream from his hands. "You shouldn't eat too much of this. It's too cold."

This time, Mark didn't argue. Instead, he excitedly started listing off what he wanted. "I want hot pot, seafood, barbecue, watermelon, and… and some desserts too!"

"Alright, I'll get everything you want," Alex agreed, unable to resist kissing Mark's lips again.

Mark, distracted by thoughts of food, didn't mind the kiss. He was already drooling at the thought of the feast ahead.

But Alex's heart tightened with fear. What if some stranger offered Mark food and managed to lure him away? The thought made Alex's stomach churn with anxiety.

"Mark, promise me you'll never take food from someone you don't know, okay?" Alex's tone was serious as he warned his wife.

"Of course, I'm not a child," Mark scoffed, rolling his eyes at Alex's worry.

But Alex still couldn't shake his unease. The idea of Mark being tricked by food made him feel incredibly unsettled.

"It's so hot, I feel like taking a bath," Mark muttered, fanning himself with his hand.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Suddenly, he found himself lifted into the air as Alex carried him toward the bathroom.

"Alex, put me down! What do you think you're doing?" Mark yelled, struggling in Alex's arms.

Alex chuckled, his expression relaxed. "Didn't you just say you were hot?"

"I didn't say anything! I take it back!" Mark protested, trying to push Alex's face away, but it was no use. The bathroom door clicked shut and locked, leaving Mark helpless.

Meanwhile, Xavier Dupont stood outside Feder's room, smoking a cigarette as he watched the doctor treat Feder's injuries. When the doctor finally emerged, he informed Xavier Dupont that Feder wouldn't wake up for a while but wasn't in any serious danger. Only then did Xavier Dupont let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment and return to his own room.

As he reached for his keycard, the door opened before he could even swipe it. Standing there was Richard, fresh out of the shower, his long hair still damp.

Xavier Dupont's hand paused briefly, but he quickly regained his composure, taking another drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it and tossing it into the nearby trash.

This was a familiar routine. After a fight, Richard would usually seek him out. Normally, it would take a few days, but this time, it had only been a few hours.

Without a word, Richard wrapped his arms around Xavier Dupont's waist, burying his face in Xavier's chest. His eyes were red, suggesting he had been crying.

Xavier Dupont didn't move, simply standing there and letting Richard hold him. Outwardly, he appeared calm, but inside, his emotions were in turmoil. His hand hovered in the air, torn between wanting to embrace Richard and holding back.

He was afraid—afraid that if he gave in and showed affection, they would fall back into the same destructive cycle that had left Richard lying motionless in a pool of blood years ago.

**Chapter 170: It's So Nice That the Pretty Brother Can Sit on Dad's Lap**

When Xavier Dupont didn't return the embrace, Richard felt a deep pang of hurt. He clung tighter to Xavier, feeling a lump form in his throat.

Xavier's hand clenched at his side, the internal struggle evident.

Just then, someone walked by their room and noticed them hugging, glancing curiously.

Without a word, Xavier Dupont scooped Richard up in his arms, closed the door behind them, and carried him over to the sofa.

Richard obediently let Xavier carry him, but his eyes were dull and lifeless, clearly indicating he was the one making an effort to apologize. As usual, it was always him who had to back down, and he had grown used to it.

Xavier Dupont set Richard down on the sofa and was about to stand up when Richard suddenly pulled him back, sitting on his lap and leaning in for a kiss.

Xavier quickly covered Richard's mouth with his hand, his voice cool as he said, "I still have the taste of smoke."

"You know I don't mind," Richard replied, his expression on the verge of tears, his eyes reddening as he looked at Xavier.

Xavier didn't respond, instead covering Richard's eyes with his hand as he let out a pained sigh.

He blocked Richard's view because he didn't want him to see the conflicted expression on his face. Xavier feared that if Richard saw his true feelings, he would become even more attached. But now, Xavier was beginning to question how long he could keep up this facade, how long he could continue to make Richard cry without admitting his own emotions.

But he feared that if he gave in, he wouldn't be able to control his feelings, which would give his father another excuse to hurt Richard.

"I know that Alex is irreplaceable to you, and I shouldn't force you to choose between us," Richard began to cry, tears soaking Xavier's hand. Xavier's heart clenched at the sight.

"But why? Why is it that you never choose me? I'm a person too, Xavier Dupont. I have flesh and blood, and I can feel pain," Richard pleaded, his voice breaking.

In the past, Richard would never have said these things, knowing Xavier didn't want to hear them. But now, he was too hurt. Ten years of waiting, ten years of disappointment, had left him completely broken.

"Please, stop being so cold and distant," Richard sobbed, his face wet with tears.

He didn't remove Xavier's hand from his eyes because he was too afraid to see Xavier's expression. If he saw only cold indifference, it would destroy him.

But what Richard didn't know was that Xavier Dupont's face was filled with sorrow. He was struggling to keep himself from pulling Richard into a comforting embrace.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a small figure ran into the room—a little girl, around four or five years old.

Richard quickly scrambled out of Xavier's lap, hurriedly wiping away his tears.

Sarah Dupont, who had been excitedly running into the room, froze in her tracks, her wide eyes darting between Xavier and Richard. She seemed startled by what she had walked in on.

Standing in the doorway was a beautiful woman—Xavier Dupont's wife, Audrey. Her gaze was sharp and cold as she looked first at Xavier and then at Richard.

Richard immediately averted his eyes, his hands clenching into fists on his lap, his lips bleeding from how hard he had been biting them. He felt an overwhelming sense of shame and frustration that he couldn't be with Xavier openly and had to resort to these secretive, stolen moments.

"Step outside," Audrey commanded coldly, addressing Xavier.

Xavier didn't say anything but got up to leave. Richard, panic-stricken, wanted to reach out and grab Xavier's hand, but he hesitated, letting him go. All he could do was watch helplessly as Xavier walked toward Audrey.

Xavier closed the door behind him, clearly not wanting Richard to hear the conversation that was about to take place.

Sarah, who was still standing in the middle of the room, had initially been startled by the situation, but when she saw Richard crying, she quickly ran over to him. Standing on her tiptoes, she grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and handed it to him, her big round eyes filled with concern as she gazed up at Richard. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of red.

Richard took the tissue and thanked her in a hoarse voice.

Sarah shook her head vigorously, indicating that there was no need for thanks. Then she looked up at Richard's face and exclaimed, "Pretty Brother, you're so good-looking!"

Her eyes sparkled with admiration.

Richard blinked in surprise, staring back at the little girl.

He knew that Sarah wasn't Xavier's biological daughter but rather the child Audrey had with a lover. Because of this, Xavier had never been particularly close to her, and there were even times when he seemed to dislike her.

But as Richard looked at the innocent child in front of him, he found that he couldn't hold any ill feelings toward her.

*She's just a child,* Richard reminded himself. *She shouldn't be blamed for the adults' mistakes.*

"Pretty Brother, are you one of Daddy's friends?" Sarah asked excitedly, her eyes still shining with admiration.

Richard didn't know how to answer her question, so he hesitated.

"That's so cool! Pretty Brother can sit on Daddy's lap, but Sarah isn't allowed to!" Sarah's voice was filled with envy,

 and there was a trace of sadness in it.

Sarah had no idea that Xavier Dupont wasn't her biological father, and Xavier had no intention of telling her the truth. He wasn't distant with her out of cruelty but because Audrey had always kept him at arm's length, forbidding him from getting too close to Sarah. Over time, Xavier had simply stopped trying to connect with her.