Chapter 146- hope could be cruel
"Sweetheart, shouldn’t I be going with you to your next check-up?" Charles asked, a rare softness in his voice. It had only been two weeks since he found out she was pregnant, and during that time, their relationship had remained tense. Only now did it strike him—he had missed the most crucial part. Her health, and the baby’s condition, should have been his first priority.
Janet smiled, her voice delicate and coaxing. "Then... how about this? I’ll go shopping first, and meet you at the office afterward. We can go to the hospital together, just the two of us."
Her tone was gentle, almost demure. She sounded exactly like the Janet he used to know—the one who had once leaned on him with quiet trust. Charles couldn’t bring himself to say no. Something in his gut warned him that something was off, but this version of Janet—thoughtful, sweet, obedient—was the one he had been longing for.
"All right. I’ll have the driver take you." He tightened his arm around her waist, frowning slightly at how slender she still was. "You’re still so thin even though you’re pregnant... I can’t tell whether the baby’s going to look like you or me."
His gaze swept across her face, still filled with worry. At least she didn’t look as pale as before. That alone allowed him to breathe a little easier.
Ever since he learned about the pregnancy, Charles had been constantly on edge, always needing to be reassured that she was safe. Every day, someone from the house would report her condition and activities to him. Only then could he focus on work, knowing she was secure at home.
"I hope it’s a girl," Janet said softly, placing her hand over his. Together, they rested their palms on the slight curve of her belly. "Don’t you want that too, Charles?"
She hoped for a daughter—someone who could stay by his side if she couldn’t. Someone to keep him from breaking if one day... she disappeared from his life.
"A daughter who looks like you?" Charles chuckled, pulling her fully into his arms. "Boy or girl—I’ll love our child no matter what."
She smiled faintly, her expression glowing with quiet hope. Charles couldn’t resist lowering his head to kiss her lips, soft and delicate like spring blossoms.
"All right, go to work now," she murmured, gently pushing him away.
She knew him too well. Charles was nothing if not disciplined—never late, never careless, even as the head of the company. He had built his world on routine, on predictability.