Chapter 240

Sarah's POV

I sat on the sofa, my nails rhythmically tapping against the edge of the coffee table, creating a subtle yet reassuring sound. Things with Howard wouldn't progress any further for now. I licked my dry lips as my thoughtsspun like a carousel through my current options.

Howard Thompson, that high-and-mighty tech CEO, had spoken to me ín that condescending tone, as if I were some insignificant character. My nail scraped a mark into the table surface.

Robert was basically a backup plan. Although I'd agreed to remarry him last time, that was only to give myself another escape route. If things fell through with both Philip and Howard, at least I'd have Robert as insurance.

But if his business revival plan failed, I certainly wouldn't waste time with a bankrupt ex-husband.

My gaze fell on the comic contract sitting on the coffee table, and I sighed.Philip Baker, the investor in my comic business. No matter what, I couldn't completely alienate him. Economically speaking,he remained my most stable support, especially given my pregnancy.

I bit my lower lip, recalling Philip's angry eyes today. That stupid Brian had seen through my tricks, and Philip actually blamed me for it? A sour feeling rose in my stomach, but I quickly calmed myself. Men are always like this-they need to be soothed, cared for, told "it's okay, you're right."

I stood up from the sofa and walked toward the kitchen, deciding I needed to take immediate action. Men think with their stomachs,and I knew exactly how to use that to my advantage.

Standing in the kitchen, I briefly considered cooking Philip's favorite dish myself-that pasta he always smiled contentedly at during our college days.My fingers tapped lightly on the cabinet as I considered. No,too much trouble. I shook my head and dialed for takeout, ordering several dishes he loved.

"Do you need a food bag?" the person on the phone asked.

"Yes, just a regular paper bag, not the one with the restaurant logo," I specifically instructed. Perfect-I could tell Philip I made everything myself,just like when we were together. This little lie would evoke his memories and lower his guard.

After placing the order, I gently stroked my slightly rounded abdomen.This child, regardless of whose it was, would be my most powerful bargaining chip.

"Max." I called to my son, who was playing video games, deliberately keeping my voice gentle,"Mom needs to go out for a while. Take care of yourself,okay?"

Max nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes never leaving the screen. Children are like that-accustomed to my comings and goings, accustomed to my schemes and lies.

The takeout arrived quickly, and I left carrying the food bag. Along the way, I contemplated tonight's strategy. Philip was dissatisfied with me,but I knew his weakness-he needed to feel needed, to be admired.His pathetic self-esteem was almost as useful as Howard's.

I arrived at Philip's apartment building, took a deep breath,ensuring my expression returned to that vulnerable state of needing rescue, then knocked on his door. No response. I knocked again, harder this time, my

knuckles slightly aching. While waiting. I rehearsed my opening lines in my mind, calculating how to penetrate Philip's defenses most efficiently.

When the door finally opened and Philip appeared, I quickly scanned his expression-tired, angry, surprised, and a hint of hidden expectation.Perfect.

"Have you eaten?" I asked softly, my voice half an octave lower than usual,fingers gently rubbing the edge of the food bag. I deliberately caressed my slightly swollen abdomen, making sure this action fell within Philip's line of sight, then carefully moved my gaze to his face, then away, displaying uncertainty and vulnerability.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asked, with less displeasure in his voice than I'd expected. I noticed his gaze involuntarily falling on my abdomen,just as I'd anticipated.

I naturally dropped my shoulders, exhaling: "I know it's late. It's just...I was at home thinking you might not have eaten, and I couldn't stop worrying." I deliberately made my voice quiver on the last few words, as if suppressing emotions, then raised my eyes to look directly at him: "Even though pregnancy makes me tired all day, I still wanted to make sure you ate something."

I saw the ice in Philip's eyes begin to melt, and my fingertips felt a small current of victory.

"Come in," he finally said,stepping aside.

Entering his apartment, I suppressed the urge to smile. Too easy-these self-important men, always so predictable. I knew what someone like Philip needed: not money,he had plenty of that; he needed care, needed someone to worry about him, just as Annie once had. I inwardly mocked

his patheticness, but my face showed only tenderness and concern.

"Let me help set the table." I said, naturally walking toward the kitchen.Out of his sight, I allowed my eyes to flash with smugness before resuming my worried expression.

I arranged the food on the dining table but sat down without touching anything,hands resting quietly on my lap. This posture was both submissive and expectant, as if waiting for instructions.

Philip glanced at me: "Aren't you eating?"

I shook my head slightly: "No need, I've already eaten." A small lie, but every lie has its purpose.

"It's too much for me alone," he said.

I hesitated briefly-not for show, but calculating the most natural response:"I'll have a little bit then. Don't want to waste food."

Serving myself a small bowl, I began eating slowly, occasionaly looking up to observe Philip. His gaze had softened, his thoughts seemingly drifting elsewhere. Now was the moment-his defenses were at their weakest, the perfect time for me to delve deeper.

"How did we end up like this?" Philip suddenly spoke, "In college, I truly loved you..."