As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 59.2

“I don’t want Aunt to die and I don’t want Mommy to die.” She paused, then, with a puzzled frown, asked, “Aunt, what does ‘regret’ mean?”

Gu Yining looked at her daughter’s little face, full of concern, and managed a smile through her tears. She hastily wiped her own cheeks with the back of her hand, forcing a laugh that was almost worse than crying.

“Regret is when you could have done something, but you were afraid, or hesitant, or lazy, and in the end you didn’t do it.”

The words barely left her lips before a thought surged in her mind, irresistible and urgent. Gu Yining tightened her arms around Bai Xia, making a silent decision.

“Xia,” she said, looking into her daughter’s eyes, speaking deliberately, each word clear, “do you want to take a plane right now and go see Mommy?”

Though phrased as a question, Gu Yining already knew the answer. She could no longer endure a single moment’s delay. She wanted, immediately, to be at Bai Qingqiu’s side. She needed to see her, to see if she was truly alone, guarding an empty house.

So almost as soon as the words left her mouth, she began running toward home with Bai Xia in her arms.

Bai Xia was momentarily stunned by the sudden motion, but the cool night wind rushed past them like a blur. She felt as if she was flying, her small sadness instantly replaced by exhilaration. Stretching out her arms, she let the wind sweep beneath her as she laughed aloud in Gu Yining’s embrace.

“Yes! I want to!”

Gu Yining laughed too, a laugh mingled with tears, yet brimming with a strength she had never felt before.

“All right,” she said, “let’s give Mommy the biggest surprise ever!”

Spring Festival flights were nearly impossible to book, especially on New Year’s Eve, when everyone was hurrying home. By the time Gu Yining and Bai Xia reached the airport, there was only one flight left, departing in seventy-five minutes—and just two first-class seats remaining.

Without hesitation, Gu Yining pulled out her card and secured the tickets, completed the check-in, and then grabbed a quick bite at a restaurant inside the airport. Bai Xia was eager to see her mother and, more importantly, to give her a big surprise. She didn’t mind the simple meal at all and was perfectly cooperative.

At that moment, mother and daughter were like arrows flying home, desperate to reach the villa.

The plane traced an arc across the night sky and finally touched down smoothly in Bai Qingqiu’s city.

After deplaning, Gu Yining carried a slightly sleepy Bai Xia. Outside the taxi window, neon lights streaked past, painting their faces in kaleidoscopic patterns.

Gu Yining’s heart raced uncontrollably, hammering in her chest.

The streets were unusually empty for New Year’s Eve, and the radio playing in the taxi even had the host offering early greetings for the holiday. The driver tried to make conversation, but Gu Yining heard nothing. She could see nothing.

All she wanted was to get back to that villa.

Finally, the taxi stopped at the familiar gate.

Gu Yining paid, lifted Bai Xia, and ran toward the door. She deftly entered the code, and the heavy gate clicked open crisply in the quiet night.

The enormous villa was brightly lit but eerily silent—no trace of the holiday spirit anywhere.

Even though she had expected it, Gu Yining’s heart sank. A bitter, aching sensation spread from her chest to her fingertips.

Carrying Bai Xia, she crossed the foyer and headed toward the dining room. And then she saw it—a scene she would never forget.

In the vast dining room, capable of seating a dozen or more, only a dim overhead light glowed. At the far end of the long table sat Bai Qingqiu, alone.

There was no elaborate New Year’s Eve feast—just a bowl of plain rice, a solitary plate of stir-fried greens, and a half-full glass of red wine.

In the empty room, Bai Qingqiu’s figure cast a long, thin shadow in the light, stark and fragile. The loneliness felt almost tangible, forming a harsh contrast to the festive fireworks and bustling world Gu Yining and Bai Xia had just left.

Gu Yining’s heart felt as if gripped by an invisible hand, aching painfully.

She stood frozen, wanting desperately to break the silence, to tell her, “We’re here, both of us.” Yet she was too hesitant to take a step forward.

“Mommy!”

Bai Xia, seeing her mother for the first time in what felt like forever, suddenly came fully awake. The fatigue from the journey vanished, replaced by sheer delight. She wriggled free from Gu Yining’s arms, her tiny legs pumping as she ran joyfully toward the solitary figure.

“Surprise! Mommy! We’re back!”

Bai Qingqiu’s hand froze mid-bite.

She turned, incredulous, and caught the small, cannonball-like body flying into her arms. The familiar warmth of her daughter was real, grounding her for a fleeting moment. Then her gaze shifted to the figure standing a short distance away under the foyer light.

Gu Yining stood there, travel-worn and windblown. Her long hair was slightly disheveled from the journey, strands sticking to her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. The warm, bright foyer light cast a gentle halo around her, softening her silhouette, giving her an almost ethereal glow.

For the first time, Bai Qingqiu’s usually unreadable eyes betrayed raw shock and deep emotion. She stood, unable to hide the impact of the moment.

“We’re back,” Gu Yining said, her voice still trembling slightly from the exertion, but steady with resolve.