XX | Guilty

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CHAPTER THRITY | HE

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ELIAS CAREFULLY OPENED the door to Genevieve's hospital room, he could feel his hand slightly shake on the smooth door knob as he pushed the door open. Revealing her to him—sitting motionless on the uncomfortable hospital bed, her eyes sullen and skin pale as snow.

"Hey," Elias mumbled, softly shutting the door behind him. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, silently walking to sit next to Genevieve.

She didn't answer, just absentmindedly staring at the white-washed wall, completely motionless. As Elias took a look at her, he spotted where her hand was placed, on her stomach caressing it.

Genevieve knew.

"How-How are you holding up?" Elias asked, silence hitting against him, once again. "Genevieve?"

"I'm fine," Genevieve whispered, almost silently it seemed. Her tone was like a thin piece of glass, sustainable, yet delicate. If touched, then shattered.

Elias narrowed his eyes on her, "No, you are not alright—I know you."

"No, you are right," Genevieve sniffled. "I'm not fine, I'm horrible. How could you possibly think I feel? I was pregnant! I was going to be a mom, how do you think I feel?"

"I get it," Elias mumbled, solemnly. He had not found the opportunity to mourn over Genevieve's miscarriage when he didn't even know if he was the father. "But—"

"Don't give me any 'but'," Genevieve snarled. "You have no idea how it feels, Elias. I was going to be a mother, don't you understand?! And for my fucking ignorance, I lost him, I lost my baby."

Elias' eyebrows furrowed. "He?"

"The doctors said something about a C-Section. The baby was above three months, the age of fertility and abortion, after that, the baby is in the developing stage, I was six months in, they had to give me a C-Section," Genevieve explained, wiping a few tears that had brimmed her waterline. "They told me it was a baby boy. I was the mom of a baby boy."

A pang of guilt hit against Elias' chest, six months, they were together six months ago—a baby boy, Elias could've been a father.

"So, who's the dad?" Elias asked, gritting his teeth in displeasure at the thought of another man being the father of Genevieve's son.

Genevieve shrugged, licking her lips with a sniff. "I don't know, they took a paternity test, they didn't bring it back yet."

Silence fell upon them, Elias didn't know what to say or converse about—there was nothing to. He thought about those six months solemnly. If he was the biological father, then, their life's would've been completely different by now; they would be together, probably enjoying Genevieve's pregnancy. Elias brought back the thought of Lucy—she would've been so ecstatic, and so would be Millie, Tiffany and Grace, even Aldo.

It occurred to Elias, in just a little time frame his life would've changed completely, a moment, a decision, maybe even a mistake. He could feel regret weight down on his shoulders, yet, somehow his heart leaped with joy.

"You're alive," Elias uttered, with a clear throat. "I thought that—"

"—I committed suicide?" Genevieve continued for him. "Killed myself, and somebody maybe? How little faith you have in me, Elias. I went through so much, how could you even think of that?" She lifted her hand, wiping a tear before continuing. "I was born different. I spent my life running, hiding, in places that could never be considered home. So many men have tried to kill me. I have been sold, like a piece of bread. I've been shamed endlessly and betrayed like no one else has. I've been raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing?"

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