Chapter 81

Angela POV

At that thought, my face darkened slightly. I stared into Christopher's eyes, which seemed to be hiding something-a mist of uncertainty I couldn't quite grasp.

But on the surface, he still wore that calm, reassuring smile.

He must have noticed my tension. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft but probing.

I lowered my gaze, glancing at the nurse still in the room, and stayed silent.

The nurse adjusted the needle in my arm, and the sharp sting cleared my head a little.

Once she left, the room was empty except for the two of us. Now, I could finally say what had been on my mind.

I was still trying to figure out how to start when Christopher suddenly crouched down in front of me. He held a white silk handkerchief, gently dabbing at the bloodstains from where I'd accidentally pulled on the wound.

I assumed his obsessive need for cleanliness was kicking in again.

After about ten seconds, I couldn't take it anymore. "You don't have to keep wiping it. It's not going to come off."

He paused, then stopped wiping.

A moment later, he said, "Someone will bring you some clothes soon. You can change out of that one then."

I nodded, but I couldn't figure out what he was really doing.

He must know by now about my pregnancy, yet he didn't ask a thing.

He and Sean were friends... Would he tell him?

I was lost in thought when Christopher broke the silence.

"You look like you want to say something. What's on your mind?"

I looked up at him. "So, you know, don't you?"

Christopher nodded. "You mean that you're pregnant?"

"Can you promise me something?" I said, my voice steady but serious. "Please, don't tell Sean."

"Sean doesn't know?" Christopher looked shocked, then his lips curled into a small smile. I couldn't tell if it was mockery or... maybe even a little relief?

I could never figure him out.

"Promise me you won't tell him."

"I swear I won't," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "But I'm not trying to pry, I'm just curious-why don't you want him to know? He's the father."

I interrupted him. "He knows." My fingers tightened on the bedsheet.

Not every father wants to be one. I thought of the message I sent him that he never responded to, and Christina handing me the check, urging me to get an abortion. Without thinking, I placed my hand on my stomach, trying to force a bitter smile.

"He knows... but he doesn't want the baby."

Saying that felt like a knife to my chest.

Before the kidnapping, I was still wearing Sean's jacket. I had even been moved by that small gesture of his. But now, Christopher's question pulled me back into the harsh reality.

Sean hadn't answered my calls... and he didn't want our baby.

"So, he thinks you've already gotten rid of the baby?" Christopher continued.

"Probably."

"I promise you, I won't tell him."

Christopher looked at me with sympathy, and it made my chest feel even heavier. I couldn't stop the tears from falling, so I turned away, unable to face him any longer.

After a moment, Christopher wiped away my tears with the same handkerchief. He cupped my face in his hands, his touch tender, like that of an older brother, and sighed.

"Little Angel, why are you so foolish? Are you really planning to raise this baby alone?"

"Is that so bad?"

I wiped my eyes and forced a small smile.

"I can be a great single mom. I grew up in a single-parent home. I turned out fine, didn't I? My father loved me, just like any other father would. And I didn't feel like... not having a mom made me different from anyone else."

My words started to spill faster, but my confidence started to fade. I felt my voice quieting with each sentence.

Christopher seemed to notice, his hand still holding mine. He spoke softly, "It's alright. Raising a child isn't a big deal. You don't need to explain everything. Just do what feels right for you."

My breathing was heavy from the outburst, and it took a while before I was calm enough to speak again.

"Sorry... I got a little carried away."

"It's fine," he said gently, his smile never wavering. There was no judgment, no criticism-only understanding.

It made me feel grateful.

Then, with a strange gesture, he tucked the bloodstained handkerchief into his pocket.

That surprised me. Wasn't he obsessed with cleanliness?

Before I could dwell on it, he spoke again.

"Before you woke up, I got a call from Sean. He's probably on his way now." He paused, then added, "Prepare yourself."

Bang!

Before he even finished speaking, the door to the room slammed open.

A familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

Before I could process what was happening, Sean rushed to my side, grabbed my shoulders, his breath coming fast as he asked,

"Angela, are you hurt? Is it serious?"