บททั้งหมดของ Is It My Fault I Have Daddy Issues?: บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

ROXETTEI couldn’t stop staring at the test.The two pink lines stared back at me, clear and undeniable. I had taken three more tests just to be sure, lining them up on the bathroom counter like little soldiers confirming the same terrifying, overwhelming truth.I was pregnant.Chandler’s baby was growing inside me.I sat on the edge of the bathtub for what felt like hours, my mind spinning in circles. One second I felt a strange, warm flutter of joy — a tiny life, our child, something that was part of both of us. The next second, panic crashed over me like a wave. How was I supposed to do this? I was still in school. My life was a complete mess — Diana hated me, the stalker was back, the bullying was getting worse. How could I bring a baby into all of this chaos?Tears started falling before I even realized I was crying.I didn’t know why I was crying. It wasn’t sadness exactly. It was everything — fear, shock, love, guilt, hope, terror — all mixed together in a storm I couldn’t cont

ROXETTEI couldn’t stay away any longer.After spending days at my mom’s penthouse, I had been drowning in my own thoughts. The pregnancy test still sat in my bag like a secret I wasn’t ready to share with anyone yet. I had cried, I had stared at the wall for hours, and I had tried to make sense of everything. But no matter how much I tried to think things through, one feeling kept pulling at me stronger than the rest.I missed him.I missed Chandler.I missed the way he held me, the way he called me “baby girl,” the way his presence made the chaos in my life feel a little less heavy. Even with everything falling apart around me — Diana’s hatred, the bullying, the stalker messages — being away from him had started to feel wrong. Like I had left a part of myself behind.My phone had been on silent for most of the day, but when I finally checked it that evening, my heart skipped when I saw his messages.**Chandler:** Where did you go? You didn’t say anything before leaving.**Chandler:*

CHANDLERI came home exhausted.Work had dragged on longer than expected, and the stress of everything else — Dahlia’s constant messages, Diana’s anger, the stalker still out there somewhere, and Roxette suddenly disappearing without a word — had worn me down to the bone. The house felt too quiet when I stepped inside. I called out for her once, twice, but there was no answer. Just silence.I checked my phone again. Still no reply from Roxette. My last message had been sent hours ago.Chandler: Where did you go? It’s already past 8. Are you okay? Please text me back.Nothing.I sighed heavily and loosened my tie as I made my way to the study. I poured myself a glass of wine — just one at first. Then another. And another. The rich red liquid burned slightly going down, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. I kept glancing at my phone, hoping for a reply that never came.Where the hell was she?I had told her she could take space if she needed it, but this felt different

ROXETTEI couldn’t stop staring at the photos.They were everywhere. Pinned to the wall in front of me, scattered across the small table to my left, even taped to the floor near my feet. Pictures of me at school. Pictures of me walking through the estate gardens. Pictures of me crying after Diana and her friends poured dirty water on me in the bathroom. Pictures of me and Chandler together — some taken through windows, some from far away like someone had been hiding in the bushes.My stomach twisted violently.This wasn’t random. Someone had been watching me for months. Following me. Taking photos of every moment of my life. My heart sank so hard it felt like it had dropped straight through the floor.No… this can’t be. This can’t be happening.I pulled harder against the ropes tying my wrists behind the chair, but they only dug deeper into my skin. My ankles were bound too tightly to the chair legs. I was completely trapped.

CHANDLERThe car screeched to a stop in front of the abandoned building on the outskirts of the industrial district. The place looked like it had been forgotten for years — rusted metal walls, broken windows covered in grime, and weeds growing through the cracked concrete. The location ping from Roxette’s phone had led us here, but something about the building felt wrong. Too quiet. Too isolated.I stepped out of the car, my jaw already clenched. Marcus and two other men were waiting by the entrance. I walked straight up to them, my gun holstered at my side but my hand resting on it.“Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked, my voice low and sharp.One of the men, a trusted operative named Derek, nodded without hesitation. “Yes, that is correct, sir. The signal from her phone is coming from inside this building. We’ve cross-checked it twice. This is it.”I gritted my teeth so hard it hurt. My mind flashed back to the footage — the motorcycle hitting her, the van speeding away.