All Chapters of Pregnant from the man I hate - A Billionaire Romance: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The room smelled like sea water, blood and burnt wood. Everything was quiet — and at the same time the whole house seemed to breathe. The walls crawled. The ground vibrated. The black water crawled further through the ridges, gathered around our feet, as if we were slowly closing. Noah Carter lay in my arms, pale, gorging, but alive. His fingers still wrapped my wrist. Weak. But he didn't let go. Before us, Emil knelt with silver eyes, tears on the face, and held something Invisible. Something visible only in the air when the light flashed: A dark form. Human. But wrong. Like a hole that had taken the form of a human being. She had no face. And yet I felt she looked at me. You always fought the messenger. The words echoed in my head. Not Elias. Not Emil. Not Mira. Something bigger. Something that created the loops. My heart was running. “The last name...?” Emil looked at me. His voice was calm, even though his little body trembled. “Your real name. The on

The photo almost fell out of my hands. My fingers were deaf. I stared at the picture of Noah Carter — old, gray, alone on the veranda of our Summer house — and I knew with a terrible certainty that it was real was. Not a warning. Not just one way. A memory from a time that had already happened. Or else would happen. In this house that means the same thing. The baby in the women's arms with my face began to squat quietly. A normal, small sound. It hit me harder than any medallion. Because it reminded me that she wasn't just a riddle. She was a child. My daughter. Maybe. Maybe not. I couldn't distinguish anymore. Noah now stood on his legs, even though his hand was still on his Chest lay. Blood stained his shirt dark, but he didn't pay attention. He just saw the baby. ‘Nora’. He said the name as if he pulled him out of a dream. The woman nodded slowly. “She was born in the loop where you did not save me.” My breath stopped. I looked at her. “You... am I?” Sh

The water didn't come like a flood. It came like a memory. Loud. Black. It fled through the broken down halls, rose over our feet, over my knees, and although it looked ice cold, it felt warm — like hands that knew me. Noah Carter immediately pulled me up. His arms tightly around my waist. He kept me as if pure power could hold the world together. But the house was at night among us. Wood splintered. The walls bend as if they were made of paper. The three children outside went on to the sea. Not rushing. Not threatening. Like they're just coming home. Liam Carter clung to my leg while Mira was the second medallion to her Breast pressed. The woman with my face still stood in the door, the baby Nora on the arm, for the first time, she seemed powerless. And Emil — the Emil beside me, only stared at the little child out there that looked like him. His face was surpassed. “I remember him.” His voice was barely audible. I turned to him. “To whom?” He looked at me

The water closed over us. No impact. No fight. Just darkness. And then — silence. I should have drowned. Noah Carter had to drown. But the sea was not a sea. Not here. It was a place between memories. Between decisions. Between life that had never begun, and those who were never allowed to end. We didn't fall. We floated. Slow down. Like we're wearing hundreds of invisible hands. Noah still held my wrist. So firm that it hurt. And I loved this pain more than anything else. Because he meant he didn't let me go. Not this time. The child in my arms was quiet. It was asleep. Like it's all normal. Like this is his home. The house appeared among us. The first house. It stood in the middle of black water, without shore, without sky, only worn by Silence. Each window glowed warm. Golden light. Like a home you never had, but always missed. Noah saw it. His face was stolen. And then there was something I didn't expect. He whispered: “I was already here.” My

I didn't turn around. Not immediately. Maybe because the sentence in the book still burned in my head. Don't look in the mirror behind you. Maybe because a part of me long ago knew who was there. But Noah Carter died. His hand in mine was freezing. And that was worse than any look. Because Noah was not afraid as before. He saw something he recognized. I slowly lifted my eyes. Not to the hallway. To the mirror. And there was actually a man. Not in our house. Just in the glass. Great. Slender. Dark suit as if he had come to a funeral. His face was strangely familiar. Not because I knew him. Because he looked like a mixture of Noah and all our children. The same dark hair. The same quiet view. And amber eyes. Not threatening. Almost sad. He smiled at Noah. Not me. Just Noah. And once again said: “Welcome back, Father.” Liam's little hand detached from mine. He looked at the mirror. Then he whispered: “I know him.” My heart hit hard. Mira stepped close