Not long after, Victoria held Ethan's hand and walked straight toward me.
The surrounding chatter gradually died down. All eyes followed, hungry for a spectacle.
She stopped in front of me. A flicker of awkwardness crossed her face, one hand still pressed protectively over her lower belly. She nudged Ethan, signaling for him to speak.
He frowned, then looked at me. After a moment of silence, he finally said:
"Alex, I want Victoria to keep this child."
He stared at me intently, probably waiting for me to explode into hysterical rebuttals like before.
After all, over the past seven years, every woman who got pregnant with his child was someone I personally escorted to the hospital for an abortion—without exception.
After a pause, perhaps seeing that I didn't immediately blow up, he added:
"Victoria's already had three abortions for me. The doctor said if she has another one, she might never be able to get pregnant again."
Whispers rippled through the crowd—probably betting on how spectacular my outburst would be.
But I only lifted my gaze, met his eyes calmly, and said two words:
"Okay."