Ch-48

•~•Nathaniel’s POV

Silence.

Her breath caught. Her eyes shimmered. “Bastard?” she whispered.

I cursed under my breath, dragging a hand through my hair. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?” she fired back. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounded like you just denied being the father of our baby.”

I stared at her, chest rising and falling fast. I needed to calm down. This wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know she’d been with my twin the whole time.

I took a step forward, gently placing my hands on her shoulders. I kept my voice low. “I just mean… we still have so much ahead of us. A baby now would change everything. So maybe… we could just—”

I trailed off, hoping she’d catch on.

Her brows pinched. “We could just what?”

Was she pretending not to understand?

I hesitated, then said it. “Maybe… we terminate the pregnancy. And try again later. When we’re both ready.”

She slightly pulled back like I had just slapped her.

“You mean when you’re ready,” she corrected, her jaw clenching.

A short, bitter laugh escaped her, and she shoved my hands off her. Running a hand through her hair, she turned her back to me.

“This was a mistake,” she muttered under her breath. I barely caught it.

She turned again, her voice colder than I had ever heard it. “You know what?... Just forget it, forget about everything I just said.”

She grabbed her small crossbody bag from the ground, slinging the strap over her shoulder, and started walking away.

“Irene, wait,” I said, stepping forward and grabbing her arm just in time.

She yanked herself free and spun around. “Don’t touch me!”

Her voice cracked, and it hit me harder than I expected.

Her eyes were watery, shining with unshed tears, and it hurt more than I was ready for.

She stared at me like I was some stranger—like she didn’t even recognize me anymore.

“I thought you’d at least pretend to be happy,” she whispered, her voice shaking. 

“Or scared. Or… anything. You didn’t even ask if I was okay or what I wanted. You just told me to get rid of it.”

I opened my mouth to speak but didn’t know what to say. Every word felt like a landmine—one wrong move and I’d lose her completely.

“Irene… I’m sorry. I just… I wasn’t expecting this.”

She laughed bitterly. “You think I was? You think I planned this? God, Nathaniel, I was terrified. But I still wanted to tell you because I thought—” Her voice caught. 

“...I thought you’d hold me. I thought you’d say we’d figure it out together.”

I looked away, my fists clenched at my sides.

“I love you,” she said quietly. “But I don’t think you love me the same way.”

“I do,” I said quickly, looking back at her. “I do love you, Irene. I just—”

“No,” she cut in. “If you did, you wouldn’t tell me to get rid of a child we made together.”

“So… is this it?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat. “Are we breaking up?”

She stared at me like I’d just asked if the sky was still blue. Her silence was louder than any scream.

Then, in a soft voice, she said, “I don’t know… Would you want to break up with me if I decide to have this baby, even if you’re not ready?”

I didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t.

She looked away, like she already knew my answer. “I thought so,” she murmured, pulling her hand slowly from mine. “Let’s… stay away from each other for now.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away.

And there I stood, frozen, watching the woman I love walk away from me.

———

Flashback Ends

———

That was the last time I ever saw her.

I should’ve run after her that day.

Should’ve told her I was just scared, not heartless. That I didn’t mean a word of it. I should have reassured her that I loved her and couldn't live without her.

God, I should’ve lied like she said. Lied that I wanted the baby. Forced a smile, said congratulations, hugged her. Anything but what I did. But no. I shut down. I acted like a fucking coward.

And now she was dead.

While I was in that fucking coma, she had been dead for the last five years.

Because I wasn’t there.

Because she thought I didn’t want her, she chose to kill herself instead of taking the money my mother offered and getting rid of that bastard child, and just living her life.

I kept replaying it all in my mind—what could’ve happened if I’d made better decisions.

What if I hadn’t let Aziel play his part in this? What if I’d kept her pregnancy a secret from him, kept it away from my mother? If I had just handled it myself.

I mean, there were so many ways. So many ways to get rid of that fucking pregnancy. 

I could’ve slipped something into her food or drink. It would have look like a natural course. She would’ve been sad, but I would have been there for her. To make her feel better and get over it.

I should’ve done that.

But I didn’t.

And now, it was my fault she was gone.

Wait—No.

I couldn’t just keep the blame all to myself.

If Aziel hadn’t been involved, none of this would’ve happened.

If he hadn’t fucking inserted himself into every part of my life, if he hadn’t been the one to manipulate Irene’s trust and affection for me, maybe we’d still be here, together.

Maybe I wouldn’t have spent the last five years lying in a hospital bed while she took her own life.

Aziel…

The thought of him made my blood boil. My teeth ground together, and my fists tightened with rage.

I turned sharply to the nurse standing beside the bed, still jotting down some notes in her chart.

“Give me your phone,” I said, my voice colder than steel.

She blinked, slightly taken aback. “Sir?”

I extended my hand, fingers open, waiting. “Your phone. Hand it over.”

She hesitated, her eyes widening. Then, fumbling, she reached into her scrubs pocket and pulled out her phone.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she placed the device in my palm.

I tapped the screen, and it lit up with a password prompt.

“What’s the password?” I asked, not even bothering to look up.

She stammered. “It’s… it’s my birthday.”

I slowly lifted my gaze to her. “How the hell am I supposed to know your birthday?”

“No—I mean…” She swallowed, flustered. “The password is ‘MY BIRTHDAY.’ In capitals.”

I stared at her for a beat, deadpan. Embarrassed—but I didn’t show it. My face remained blank, completely unimpressed.

I turned back to the phone and typed in the password.

It unlocked.

I swiped to the dial pad, quickly entered the number etched into my memory, and pressed call.

I lifted the phone to my ear. My heart pounded in my chest, my blood running hot.

The line rang once. Twice.

Then—

“Hello?”

Aziel’s voice.

Exactly the same as I remembered it from five years ago.

It was identical to mine—same tone, same pitch. The only difference was how we spoke, the subtle differences that allowed only small fraction of people to tell us apart. 

And just like that, my grip on the phone tightened.