Chapter 11
Due to his guilt. Blake ultimately decided not to bring Madeline back to the villa.
This was the first time he clearly realized that it was his and Charlotte’s home-their world-which absolutely could not accommodate a third person.
Even if that person was Madeline.
After dropping Madeline off at Chandler, Blake drove to the outskirts of town. Hidden in a remote, worn-down alley was an old establishment few people knew about. Charlotte adored their homemade cinnamon rolls with cream cheese frosting.
Whenever he upset Charlotte in the past, she would take a taxi alone to this bakery. The soft, warm pastries drizzled with sweet frosting were her comfort food. When Blake finished work and rushed over, he’d find Charlotte spinning in circles with delight as she ate.
Her satisfied sounds reaching his ears, paired with those starry eyes when she smiled, made Blake think she was absolutely adorable.
His Charlotte was indeed the easiest girl in the world to please.
But somewhere along the way, his Charlotte seemed to have stopped smiling for a very long time.
After purchasing the cinnamon rolls, Blake visited a flower shop. The delicate pink roses were the same variety he’d given to Madeline at the estaurant days before.
le remembered Charlotte’s surprised delight when she first saw the bouquet, and naturally, he had also caught her fleeting disappointment when he learned the truth. These details, once easily ignored by Blake, now felt like rusty needles piercing his heart.
The weather was gloomy that evening. It seemed as if the sky was angry with him. Between traffic jams and red lights, what should have been an our’s drive stretched to twice that.
fter two hours, Blake finally arrived home.
lot even pausing to change his shoes, he rushed toward Charlotte’s bedroom, his urgent tone mixed with barely perceptible remorse: “Charlotte, I ras delayed at the company, so I’m back a bit late. Today’s our third wedding anniversary, and I bought your favorite=”
efore he could finish, Blake sensed something was wrong.
harlotte was nowhere in the bedroom. The cold, desolate air made him instinctively shiver.
wo orchids by the floor-to-ceiling windows had yellowed and withered from neglect. The wedding photo that once hung by the bed was now just an mpty space.
he emptiness of the room left a void in Blake’s heart. Trying to remain calm, he placed his gifts on the table. A glance to the side revealed a chilling
edical report.
he patient’s name read “Charlotte Wells” and the diagnosis was “car accident, early pregnancy miscarriage.”
s he read those words, Blake’s mind went momentarily blank. His breathing quickened, and his eyes reddened.
uring their three years of marriage, Charlotte had always wanted a child of her own. Despite her fear of pain and suffering, she had consumed bowl fter bowl of medicinal soup to improve her health without even flinching.
hrough his blurred vision, Blake suddenly recalled Charlotte’s birthday. By then, Madeline was already in his life, but under pressure from his arents, he had still spent a day accompanying Charlotte to St. Mary’s Cathedral to pray.
harlotte wasn’t particularly religious, but for the chance to have a child with Blake, she had knelt for hours in prayer, her knees raw against the cold tone floor. By the time they left, both her knees were bruised and sore from her devotion.
theeling before the altar, hands pressed together in prayer, Charlotte suddenly asked:
Bake, do you think it’s because we don’t love each other enough that our baby doesn’t want to come to us?”
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Chapter 11
Faced with this question, Blake was momentarily speechless. For an instant, he thought she had discovered Madeline’s existence. But when he turned to look, Charlotte had already stood up, smiling at him as if nothing was wrong:
“Why so serious? I was just joking.”
Her tone was light, but Blake still noticed the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
Heartbroken, he pulled her into his arms, comforting her again and again:
“Charlotte, we’ll have a child. We definitely will.”
To welcome their future child. Blake had personally decorated a nursery-tiny pink socks, adorable toys-everything softening his hardened heart.
Blake had truly looked forward to having a child with Charlotte.
Preferably a girl, as sweet and well-behaved as Charlotte. He would have spoiled her into the happiest little princess in the world.
Yet in an instant, all these dreams were shattered.
A continuous, dull ache spread through Blake’s chest. If even he felt this way, he could hardly imagine the unbearable pain Charlotte must have endured.
He clutched the medical report tightly, collapsing into a chair in a daze. Soon, however, he discovered something even more devastating.
The diagnosis date was five days ago-the same day Madeline had been in a racing accident and needed a blood transfusion.
The same hospital, the same rare blood type. Blake remembered the call from the hospital. At that time, he had no idea that the pregnant woman in irgent need of blood would be Charlotte.
Because he thought it was just an unrelated stranger. Blake had made his decision without even blinking.
Through this cruel twist of fate, he had unknowingly killed his own child
