In the evening, Dylan came back.
He brought my favorite pink roses and the strawberry cake I loved.
He apologized and admitted his mistake. He said that night with the girl was just a drunken mistake. It meant nothing to him.
He told me to rest assured. He would take care of everything.
I smiled understandingly. "The child is innocent," I said.
His dim eyes suddenly lit up with shock and joy.
"Olivia, you're willing to accept the child?" he asked.
What did that have to do with me?
I was about to die.
After I died, they could live happily as a family of three. How wonderful!
They say a man's ultimate dream is to be promoted, get rich, and have his wife die.
He was about to achieve all three.
Shouldn't I congratulate him in advance?
