Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 357

Chapter 357

“What things?” I demanded.

“She is pregnant,” the doctor said. “About nine weeks along.”

I stared at her, the words not quite registering. “What?”

“The bleeding was caused by the intensity of the sexual activity. It put significant strain on the cervix and caused some tearing, which led to the hemorrhaging. Fortunately, the fetus is still viable. The heartbeat is strong.”

Pregnant.

The word echoed in my head, over and over.

“She didn’t miscarry?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“Non,” the doctor said. “But she is at high risk now. We will keep her overnight for observation, and I strongly recommend abstaining from

intercourse until she is past the first trimester.”

I nodded, barely hearing her.

Pregnant. Nine weeks.

I did the math in my head, my stomach twisting. Nine weeks ago, we’d been-

Fuck.

The doctor left, and I stood there, frozen.

She’s pregnant. With my baby.

At first, the realization hit me like a wave–something bright and overwhelming. Joy, maybe. Or triumph. She was carrying my child.

Mine.

But then, slowly, the feeling curdled into something else. Something darker.

She didn’t tell me.

Nine weeks. She’d known for how long? A month? Two? And she hadn’t said a fucking word. She’d let me touch her–let me fuck her–and she hadn’t told me.

Why?

I thought back to the past few weeks, the way she’d been acting. The nausea. The exhaustion. The way she’d flinched every time I got too close.

It all makes sense now.

But instead of making me feel better, it made me feel worse. Because if she’d known, if she’d been keeping this from me, then what else was she hiding?

Does she even want this baby?

What if she doesn’t want it? What if she doesn’t want me?

Does she even deserve to carry my child?

What am I supposed to do with this?

I walked over to the bed, staring down at her. My eyes drifted to her stomach, still flat, still unchanged. But there was a life growing in there. A life that was half mine.

My child.

The thought should have filled me with something–pride, maybe. Or protectiveness. But all I felt was a cold, creeping sense of dread.

Because I didn’t know what she wanted. I didn’t know if she’d even keep it.

And I didn’t know if I could trust her anymore.

Sophia stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. For a moment, she just stared at the ceiling, her expression blank. Then she turned her head and saw me.

Her face didn’t change. No relief. No fear. Just–nothing.

“You know, don’t you?” she said, her voice flat and emotionless. “I’m pregnant.”

I nodded, my throat tight.

She looked away, her gaze drifting back to the ceiling. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“After all that bleeding,” she said quietly, “the baby should be gone by now, shouldn’t it?”

She acted so calm; had she never even thought about giving birth to our child?