Even though he'd seen me taking handfuls of pills over the years, noticed the strangeness in our intimate moments, and even witnessed me being wheeled into the operating room eight years ago while recovering in the hospital, he still refused to believe it.
He still insisted that the person who rescued him from the fire eight years ago was Dina Dawson, not me.
"Mr. Lynch … " someone tried to speak again.
But he snapped, "Enough! I don't want to hear it! Tell Dr. Whitaker this: she can come back to this family if she wants, but if not, she can die out there with the child!"
"Dr. Whitaker really is dead … "
Tom slammed the door shut with a loud bang. Amidst the deafening sound, he didn't hear the nurse's sobbing mutterings at all.
The moment he arrived home, he saw the room filled with things I had prepared for the child.
Tom kicked the items aside as if they were trash, and then immediately pulled out his phone to call Dina.
"Dina, I'm having the driver bring over all those things prepared for the child. Regina and the little bastard in her womb aren't worthy of what I had prepared for them!"
After watching the driver take away those eyesore items, Tom finally let out a sigh of relief.