The three of them froze in place, stunned by my action. Atlas stared at me in disbelief, his jaw tightening as he gritted his teeth.
“Fine. Then you’d better get rid of the child in your belly, too. Who knows what you’ll do later using that kid?”
I placed my hand over my stomach, a faint, bitter smile appearing on my lips. “The child is already gone.”
As soon as I said those words, Atlas rushed forward and grabbed my shoulders.
“What nonsense are you saying! How could you be so cruel as to get rid of this child? How could you end our baby’s life without even telling me?”
It wasn’t surprising that he was shocked; he had seen how much I had looked forward to this child.
When my pregnancy was unstable, I endured those thick progesterone shots that left my belly bruised and sore. To help my baby grow stronger, I forced myself to drink bowl after bowl of bitter medicine, even when it made me want to vomit.
Though I was a doctor who believed in science, not gods or ghosts, I still placed a statue of God in my room and prayed sincerely every day, because I truly wanted this child.
In another world, I had been an orphan, always longing for someone connected to me by blood.