The Spare Wife by Nadia Gordon

Chapter 93 Nagging About Pregnancy
Abigail felt like she was just an extra.
Analise watched the young couple with a pleased smile. “You two aren’t getting any younger. When are you going to have a
child?” she suddenly asked Abigail and Sean during breakfast.”
Abigail knew Sean hated being pressured about having a child, and she didn’t want him to misunderstand. She quickly replied,
“We’re considering it. My health might not be the best, so I haven’t conceived yet. We’re trying, though.”
Sean remained silent, his face tense.
Analise nodded gently. “A woman’s chances of conceiving decrease after twenty–eight, and it gets even riskier after thirty. I’ll find
you a traditional doctor. You should try some herbal remedies.”
In reality, Sean’s grandmother had already tried all of this.
Every time Sean received medicine, he would discreetly dispose of it and not give it to Abigail.
Abigail nodded and muttered in agreement, but she couldn’t help stealing glances at Sean.
After finishing breakfast, Sean drove Abigail and Analise back home.
Julie was already waiting for them at home.
Sean and Abigail helped the elderly woman into her room, with Julie following behind.
“Julie, please take care of my grandmother. I’m going out to buy some medicine for her foot injury, and I’ll grab some groceries
too.” Abigail stood at the doorway, looking a bit anxious at Sean, who had gone out.
“Go ahead,” Analise said, still smiling.
Abigail hurried out the door and saw Sean waiting for her at the staircase.
She approached him nervously, aware of how touchy he was about his grandmother’s remarks on
childbirth.

Ever since her grandmother had mentioned it, Sean had hardly said a word, only occasionally responding.
ell aware he was upset with her grandmother.
“Don’t take her words to heart... Old people tend to be naggy... she tried to reassure him.
Sean impatiently cut her off. “Is it her being naggy, or you subtly hinting at something?”
Abigail looked up at Sean, a fleeting trace of pain in her eyes. Quickly, she replied in a cool tone, “Well then, let’s go get our
divorce
papers now.”
“Don’t pick a fight with me right now,” Sean said, his voice tense.
Abigail tightly clenched and then released the hand resting by her side. “Let’s go. We should buy groceries first. I also need to
get a bottle of medicine.”
The medicine Victor had recommended to her was quite effective. Abigail planned to buy a bottle for her grandmother.
Sean joined her to go downstairs.
Once in the car, Sean’s tone turned cold. “You should stay here and take care of your grandmother. She has trouble moving
around, and she needs you to assist her.”
“I’ll take care of her, then I’ll head back to the show. Don’t meddle in my work,” Abigail said, her frustration building up inside, her
tone less accommodating.
“Abigail...”
“Don’t concern yourself with my job. I’ll handle things here with my grandmother on my own. If something like this happens
again, I won’t bother you. Is that clear?” Abigail cut off Sean.
She finished speaking and turned her head to look out of the window.
“You’re quite bold, aren’t you?” Sean looked at her in mild surprise.
“Stay out of my work,” Abigail replied curtly.

“Do as you please,” Sean said icily, falling silent.
After lunch, Sean busied himself in the kitchen while Abigail, due to Luna’s persistent calls for help,
stayed in her room, using her tablet to explain the design details to her.
As soon as she finished sending the drawings to Luna, there was a knock on the door.
Analise pushed the door open and saw Abigail stashing her tablet back into her bag. She looked disapproving. “You’re hiding in
your room, and you don’t even think to help out Sean.”
“Alright, I’ll go take a look.” Abigail zipped up her bag and stood up, heading to the kitchen with her
head slightly lowered.
Sean was rolling up his sleeves and stir–frying some vegetables. Julie, seeing Abigail come in, smiled
and used it as an excuse to escape. “I’ll go keep your grandmother company.”
Abigail just gave a small hum in acknowledgment and went to wash the vegetables.
Sean, amidst the haze of cooking fumes, stole a glance at Abigail. “After we eat, I’m heading back to
the show. Take some time to consider my suggestion. If you think money is an issue, I’ll wire you
some.”
“If you’re leaving, then just leave. No need for the extra commentary,” Abigail said, her tone a bit
colder.
Sean looked at her for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Do you insist on having a child?”
Abigail didn’t understand how his mind worked. She couldn’t be bothered to respond.
“Cat got your tongue again?” Sean pressed.
Abigail tossed the vegetables into the sink and lifted her gaze to Sean. “Can you please focus on cooking? I’ve told you, don’t
doubt me. If you don’t believe, don’t start making wild guesses.”

“Must we absolutely have a child?” Sean asked again.
Abigail was about to express herself when she noticed smoke rising from the pot. She immediately
shouted, “It’s burning!”
Sean hurriedly grabbed the pot and tried to salvage it.
A sudden burst of flame shot up toward the exhaust hood.
Abigail swiftly scooped up a basin of clams soaking in water and emptied it all into the pot.