The world around me spun and darkness swallowed me whole.
Christopher pulled up beside me, rolling down the window.
“I don’t want reporters following me,” he said flatly. “Get in.”
I hesitated, glancing at the flashing lights behind me. The hungry swarm of journalists was still lingering, their cameras ready to capture any sign of weakness.
With no other choice, I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.
Only then did I realize—there was already a pool of blood between my legs.
Panic surged through me as I tried to cover the stain with my coat, but Christopher noticed immediately.
His brows furrowed and he glanced at me sideways. “Is the child okay?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could speak, his phone rang.
Lisa’s voice, soft and tinged with tears, filled the car.
“Christopher, my family is pressuring me to get married again… What should I do? Dad gave me a week to decide. You have to come up with a solution.”
There’s nothing more heartbreaking than a young woman’s sorrow—at least, that’s what Christopher seemed to believe.
He pulled the car over and sat in silence for a long moment before replying.
“One week is enough. Wait for me to propose to you.”