My phone slipped from my hand, falling to the floor as the call ended. I lowered my gaze to my rounded belly, gently reaching out to caress it, tears filling my eyes. No wonder every time I asked Lucca to listen to the baby's heartbeat, he never seemed thrilled. He knew all along that this child was never meant to arrive.
Lucca emerged from the bathroom with a grin. "Hey, honey, is the baby behaving? Causing trouble again? Let me have a word with him!" I lifted my tear-streaked face to look at him, accusations lingering on the tip of my tongue. But seeing him rush to my side, worry etched on his face as he held me so urgently, I hesitated.
"What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you too stressed? I'm here with you; you don't need to be afraid," he said soothingly, holding my hand tightly. His touch sent a shiver of repulsion through me. How could he be so heartless? Ending our child's life, continuing his affair, and yet still managing to say such sweet words.
A bitter taste filled my mouth as I touched my belly, testing the waters. "Lucca, why… why can't I feel the baby move?" He bent down to place his ear against my stomach, and I caught the fleeting look of impatience in his eyes. But when he looked at me, it vanished and he spoke gently.
"The baby is quite active; you're just too anxious, sweetheart. I'm always here with you." Just as I was about to question him about the call, his assistant knocked on the door. "Mr. Ford, the doctor wants to discuss the surgery."
Lucca glanced at me instinctively, using a gentle tone, "I'll be right back." Normally, he would have the doctor come to the room to discuss anything in front of me, so I wouldn't worry. The assistant, standing at the door, lowered her voice, "She's asking for you again. I'm worried her emotions might affect the baby."
An involuntary pang clenched my heart as I slowly followed them out, watching Lucca enter the room next door. In his hurry, he had forgotten to close the door, leaving it slightly ajar. The person lying in the bed was the housekeeper’s daughter. Lucca pressed his cheek against her belly, his face adorned with a smile as he spoke gently, "See? The baby's doing just fine. You're about to become a mother, yet you're still so childish. Don't pretend to be sick to fool me again; you know I'll worry."
He playfully tapped Journey's forehead, his touch both tender and affectionate. Journey smiled sweetly, holding his hand and giving it a kiss, her voice teasing, "I just miss you. You spend all day with that woman, can't you spend a little more time with me?" Lucca leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses across her lips, calming her in a soft voice, "I need to keep her comfortable for a while longer, so she can take care of our baby, you know that. Everything I’m doing is for your child to become the heir to the Ford estate."
A wave of helplessness washed over me, and I stumbled back a few steps. He not only took the life of our child but planned to have me raise his and Journey's child. Just ten minutes ago, this man was at my bedside, holding my hand, whispering sweet nothings. And the next moment, he was in another woman's room, plotting how to make me raise his mistress's child.
If I hadn’t heard it myself, I would never have believed this could be the man I’d loved for eight years. From the adjacent room came the sounds of their soft whispers, Journey’s playful giggle as she wrapped her arms around him, "The doctor said we can enjoy ourselves a little in the late stages of pregnancy… Oh, you’re naughty!" I stood there, almost punishing myself, watching for far too long before finally turning away, making my way slowly to the doctor’s office.
