When Two Winters Met (Henrietta and Yosef) novel Chapter 246

Artina sobbed her heart out, her words broken and ragged. “I didn’t know. I… I had already agreed to the marriage, we were already… involved, when I found out. Th-the video has a timestamp! Before that, I… I didn’t know I was pregnant!”

“Even if you didn’t know then,” Jethro retorted, “what about after you found out? You were going to get an abortion and then have surgery to cover it up. How do you explain that? Weren't you trying to deceive me? You were going to get rid of another man’s child and then play the innocent victim to trick me! And you still say you’ve done nothing wrong?”

“No… no… it wasn’t… I…” Artina was crying so hard she looked like she might be sick. “I was scared of losing you, too,” she insisted. “I know I’m not good enough for you, so I could only… try to present myself as better, more… refined. My love, really, I didn’t mean to maliciously deceive you. I just… I just wanted to be a better version of myself.”

“I was wrong, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me? I truly wasn’t trying to play you. In fact, every day has been agony for me, pure torture.”

“Whose child is it?” Jethro asked suddenly.

Artina, who had been sobbing hysterically, froze, unable to process the question for a long moment.

“Whose is it?” Jethro pressed. “Are you unwilling to say? Or are you afraid to?”

Artina finally snapped back to reality, only to break down into even more gut-wrenching sobs. “I… I don’t know!”

Jethro’s anger flared at her words, but he didn’t mention Matteo. “You don’t know?”

Artina cried so hard she almost passed out, taking several minutes to string a sentence together. “My love, I… I was… I was violated by someone.”

She choked back a painful sob, covering her mouth as she whimpered. She looked utterly… tragic. The perfect victim.

Jethro scoffed internally. If Henrietta hadn’t shown him those chat logs, he might have actually believed her. But those messages… they were disgusting. It wasn't just the nude photos they'd exchanged; the words were vile. Things about spreading her legs… Jethro’s stomach churned, and he felt a wave of nausea.

He turned to leave, but Artina scrambled to grab his leg again, her eyes swollen from crying as she looked up at him in anguish. “You… you like me, and yet you treat me like this? I’m the innocent one, I’m the victim! Shouldn’t you feel sorry for me?”

Jethro’s entire worldview shattered once more. How could a human being say something like that? She was actually demanding his sympathy?

A cold, furious laugh escaped him. “It seems you truly have no shame.”

Artina’s tear-filled eyes were wide with confusion. “My love, I really am an innocent victim. Since you like me… you should be on my side.”

“Shut your mouth!” Jethro roared, his patience completely gone. He wondered if she’d played the victim in so many roles that she’d lost touch with reality. Yet, Artina felt her demand was perfectly reasonable. She was the victim. Anyone who liked her should feel sorry for her “ordeal.” Shouldn’t he stand by her while she got rid of the baby, then treat her well and cherish her? Otherwise, what kind of “like” was it?