All Chapters of The Fathers of My Child?: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

#Joel’s POV#The rain hasn’t stopped since the message started playing.I don’t know if it started before, or if it began right when his voice did, but now I can’t tell what’s louder; Rico’s voicemail or the water crashing down like it’s trying to beat me into repentance.I’m still sitting on the edge of the bathtub when the final seconds of the message play. His voice is slurred and tired.“You treated her like a debt to be paid off… not like a human being. And you want to win now? For what? For who? You had her in your house, your bed, your name… and you crushed her. You’re worse than me, Joel. And that’s saying a lot.”My skin prickles all over. I finally move; my shaking hands grab the towel and the bathrobe I threw earlier. I wrap it around myself and stagger to my feet, stepping into the dim hallway toward my room. My wet feet slap against the cold tiles. The storm outside lashes against the windows like it’s trying to warn me not to walk further. Like it wants me to sit back do

#Joel’s POV#I didn't know I could feel relief and guilt this deep in the same breath. Not until last night.The nurse had come in, saw the clumps of hair on the floor and Dorothy's tired eyes, and asked, very carefully, if I could let her rest. But Dorothy shook her head, mumbled that I could stay. She didn’t even look at me when she said it, but she said it, and that was enough. I just nodded. No big movements or dramatics. I stayed… for her.Sat by her side and watched her chest rise and fall for what felt like hours.They offered to clean up my hands, to bandage them properly, to help with the bruises from punching the sink. I said I was fine. I wasn’t, but I didn’t care.I left that room early this morning, got my hands tended to properly by one of the attending nurses, took some painkillers, brushed my teeth, then looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself.And then I came back to her.She was still asleep. Hair gone. Head smooth, soft-looking, fragile.She didn’t know I w

#Joel’s POV#I wake up on the bed in the master bedroom. Alone.The sun is bleeding through the long cream drapes, and the air smells like the body oil Dorothy uses. My neck aches a little from how I slept, but that’s not the first thing I notice. It’s the blanket. The warm, soft blanket covering me. Folded over my chest like she was careful not to wake me when she left.I run my hand over it. The fabric. The meaning.She tucked me in.I close my eyes, briefly, and just breathe. Last night happened. I didn’t dream it. It was real. It wasn’t loud or rushed like all the times I used to take from her without even knowing I was doing it. It was quiet and real; holding her felt like finally holding myself together too.But I don’t let myself spiral into hope yet. I don’t get ahead of myself. She left the bed before I woke. She didn’t say anything.Still. She covered me.And that means something.I sit up slowly, swing my legs down, rub my face. I’m tired but not exhausted. More like… heav

#Rico’s POV#It’s the bottle that burns first. Then my throat. Then my chest.I’m not even sure when it all tipped over.Maybe it was last week, when my financial advisor told me to “get ready to go back to Atlanta soon, there’s nothing else left for you here.”Maybe it was the silence after that. Or the fact that I haven’t had a proper meal in two days. Or that I still have no place to call mine. Not really.I came to the mall this afternoon to buy cigarettes. And maybe some random shit for the apartment Victor dumped me in. Toothpaste. Shampoo. I don’t know. The kind of things that make you feel human even when your life’s loosing apart like a damn threadbare coat.Truth is, I’m just waiting. Waiting for someone to say “That’s it, Rico. Your job here is done. Go home.”But they won’t.Because Joel wants to be sure. Wants proof. Wants to wait until Dorothy births the baby—my baby—just so he can be absolutely certain I was good for one thing before they cut me out completely.I feel i

#Joel’s POV#The door creaks.I’m not even sure I heard it at first, but the soft shift of air that brushes my face as the door opens confirms it.She comes out.My heart starts beating like it just remembered how.Dorothy walks past me, but she doesn’t glance or blink. She doesn’t even breathe in my direction.She just walks… as if I’m a ghost.My throat dries immediately. I don’t know what to say, or how to catch up with her without making things worse. But I follow her anyway, slowly.She doesn’t walk fast, but she walks with purpose. Like she’s chasing silence.“Dorothy,” I murmur behind her, trying not to be too loud. “Please… can we talk?”She stops briefly near the stairway and looks over her shoulder at me. Her face is cold. Not angry, just blank.“We’re already talking,” she says. Her voice is polite. It cuts me.She keeps walking.I sigh and follow.“Look, I didn’t know Rico would be there. I didn’t know he’d pull some ridiculous stunt—”“You didn’t know?” She turns as we bo