Chapter 8
“You sure trust him.”
The nurse snorted coldly, glancing sideways.
My sense of foreboding deepened.
Following her gaze, I saw a pair of familiar dark eyes blazing with fury.
Wearing a mask and sitting in a wheelchair, he clenched his fists, staring daggers at me.
When our eyes met, he instinctively turned away.
“Charles!” I screamed. “It’s you? I knew it was your doing!”
“You bastard! Lied to me for three years, and now you’re tricking me into aborting my baby?”
“Let go of me! I’m divorcing you! We’re done! Who gave you the right to decide my baby’s fate?”
“That’s my child! Mine! You have no right!”
“Charles, let me go… don’t make me hate you.”
The needle pierced my skin, my shrill cries gradually fading as my resistance weakened.
I glared at him relentlessly. After what felt like an eternity, he finally rolled his wheelchair beside me.
His large hand cupped my cheek as Charles finally spoke:
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“Don’t hate me, Catherine. This child can’t stay.”
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“Divorce isn’t child’s play. Don’t bring it up again. Once we terminate this pregnancy, we’ll act like nothing ever happened. Clean slate.”
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“Clean slate? You set me up, played me for three years, and now want a clean slate? What am I to you?”
Charles averted his gaze, fingertips tracing my jawline with deceptive tenderness.
After a long pause, he said: “I’m sorry…
“Let’s live well together from now on. I’ll make up for everything I you.”
owe
“But we can’t keep this child. If you want children, after you’ve recovered, we’ll have our own.
“Charles, you bastard! Who wants to have a child with you?” I lashed out at him.
“If you dare touch my child, when I wake up, I’ll be the first to kill you!”
“As expected, he corrupted you.” Charles frowned. “You used to be so well–behaved.”
Yes, I used to be so well–behaved.
From age six to twenty–four, I trailed behind him for
eighteen years.
I thought if I behaved better, obeyed more, he’d finally notice me.
But my obedience, my devotion, only earned me cold indifference and
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reckless exploitation.
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Perhaps the anesthesia was kicking in, my consciousness growing hazy.
I could hear myself cursing him, vile words spilling out.
Yet my mind couldn’t control itself.
Cold instruments pressed against my skin, terror flooding my thoughts.
But I couldn’t escape, too weak even to cry out.
Charles covered my eyes: “Sleep now. It’ll all be better when you wake.”
Just when I thought this nightmare would end, a deafening bang shattered the silence.
Someone burst through the door, shoving past the crowd toward me:
“Charles, you damn bastard, touch my child and see what happens?”
Chaos erupted instantly. Amidst the turmoil, I was scooped into familiar
arms.
The long–lost sense of security washed over me as my consciousness plunged into darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital ward.
I bolted upright instinctively, touching my abdomen before scrambling off
the bed.
A lazy voice drifted over: “The baby’s still there. Disappointed?”
I turned toward the sound. Matthew leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with casual indifference.
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He was injured too–face bruised purple, arm in a cast:
“What? Don’t recognize me again? Or did you mistake me for your darling husband-”
“Matthew.”
I stared straight at him.
He froze, his gaze piercing through me.
“What did you do to Charles?”
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Matthew clicked his tongue, dropping the act as he spat through gritted teeth:
“Kicked his family jewels. Paid him two hundred bucks. So? Better divorce him fast.”
Charles suddenly grabbed my wrist, his voice dripping with sarcasm: “Once you’ve tasted someone like me, you’ll be stuck with him for life. Tsk tsk, I almost feel sorry for you.”
“But hey,” he continued, flashing that infuriating smirk, “who else would put up with your nonsense? Guess I’ll reluctantly keep being your lover.
I stayed silent.
This lunatic was spouting nonsense again.
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