"Her complexion looks way better than before." Her voice was probing, her eyes glued to his, trying to catch every little change in his expression. "And her cheeks are looking fuller, don't you think?"
"What are you getting at?" He knew she was holding something back.
Caroline cut to the chase, "Looking at Eliza now, I can't help but wonder if she's pregnant."
Casper felt like he'd been hit by a freight train. Pregnant? The news blindsided him.
Who's the dad? Him? Or...?
A whirlwind of emotions flashed through his eyes—shock, confusion, and even a tiny flicker of hope and panic.
Caroline noticed that Casper was just as clueless as she was.
"She's starting to show a bit, probably about five months along. I’d say... this baby could very well be yours."
His face was a mask of calm, but his eyes betrayed disbelief and a surge of excitement.
Caroline stepped closer, her worry clear, "If she's really carrying your child, can you just stand by and watch her raise it alone? Brock's already four, growing up without a dad. Do you want your second kid to start life labeled as a posthumous child?"
Casper's lashes drooped, his hands, scarred by fire, clutched his masked face.
No way did he want his kid to grow up facing discrimination and bullying. But in his current state, what right did he have to face Eliza? She wouldn't accept him like this. He was a shadow of his former self, with no reason to show up.
"What can I do?" His voice was filled with pain.
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