Chapter 78: Pregnant
When I held Lucareth in my arms, Annabel’s footsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by a muffled cough from the bathroom. My eyes drifted to the shadows on the floor without thinking; the silence of the room blended with the rhythmic breathing of Lucareth’s deep sleep.
I waited for a while. Inside me, a suspicion I already knew the answer to began to stir. When Annabel returned, her face was pale, a thin line drawn at the corner of her lips. The sleeves of her robe were tangled around her trembling fingers.
"I’m sorry..." she murmured, averting her gaze. "Lately... I haven’t been feeling well."
After laying Lucareth down on the bed, I stepped closer and took her wrist. Her pulse was racing, beads of sweat glistened on her face. At that moment, everything clicked into place in my mind.
"Annabel..." I said, speaking her name in a quiet, steady tone. I didn’t let go of her hand; if anything, I held on tighter. "Are you afraid to tell me? Or... do you not even realize it yourself?"
She tried to look away, but couldn’t. When her eyes finally locked on mine, the fear and shame within her were like a veil, pulled just enough to reveal what lay behind. Her lips trembled.
"I think... I’m pregnant."
For me, time froze for a short moment. My gaze lingered not on Annabel’s body, but on the storm of emotions across her face: fear, hope, guilt... and buried deep within, a desperate search for my approval.
I didn’t release her hand. Instead, I gripped it more firmly. As her fingers shook, I could feel her fear flowing into me. Yet in the depths of her eyes, behind all that hesitation, something else flickered; silent, unguarded love.
To be honest, it was the first time I would become a father, and it was a little shocking. The thought of a child carrying my blood, entering this world because of me. It felt strange... no, more than that, fascinating.
But now, Annabel was what mattered. She was watching me carefully, waiting for my reaction. Even though I had proven myself changed time and again, she couldn’t predict how I would respond when it came to a child. I didn’t look away. The contradictions within me tangled together: surprise, curiosity, a strange peace, and the weight of responsibility.
In Annabel’s eyes was a silent plea. As if she were saying, "Tell me you won’t run. Tell me you won’t leave me alone."
"Annabel..." I whispered, my voice softer than I expected. "Do you really have to look at me with such worried eyes? You shouldn’t be afraid to share something like this with me."
Her shoulders quivered; she clutched her robe tighter. She lowered her head, but at the corner of her lips a faint, shy smile appeared. That was when I understood: even if she feared me, she wanted to trust me.
I stepped closer, still holding her wrist, but this time I slid my fingers into her palm. Her hands were ice cold. I drew her toward me; at first she resisted, then collapsed helplessly against my chest.
When she buried her face in my shoulder, I could feel her trembling body through the thin fabric of her robe. I said nothing; I only breathed in the scent of her hair and slowly stroked her back.
She exhaled deeply, followed by a muffled sob. As her tears fell against my chest, I felt the fears she had hidden from me slowly unraveling.
"I’m sorry... for doubting you."
The words spilled from her lips without her lifting her head. Her tears seeped into my skin, but I knew this time they weren’t born of pain they were a release.
I slid my hand into her hair, feeling the fine strands quiver against my fingertips.
"I’ve given you plenty of reasons to doubt me, Annabel," I said softly. "But leaving you and the life you carry halfway... that’s something I’ll never do."
She lifted her head slowly, her tear-filled eyes glimmering. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. For a moment, we simply looked at each other: her shyness meeting my heavy but resolute gaze.
We stayed like that for a while. Then I touched her cheek, wiping away the dampness with my thumb. "You’re not alone anymore," I said. "No matter what, I’ll be here."
The timid smile that curled at her lips gave me a sense of peace no victory could ever match.
Annabel remained silent for a moment, her eyes still fixed on me. For the first time, I saw not the weight of fear in her gaze, but a fragile sense of relief. Yet her shoulders hadn’t fully loosened; the battle within her wasn’t over.
"You really mean that, don’t you?" she asked in a trembling voice. "You won’t change your mind... in a fit of anger?"
The wavering doubt in her words spoke volumes about the scars of her past. I had thought I’d earned her trust through all our time together, yet clearly cracks still remained in her heart. Perhaps this pregnancy was the harshest wind yet to slip through those fractures.
"I’m no longer the man who acts out of anger, Annabel," I told her firmly. "I’ll have many chances to prove that to you. Maybe not right now, but every day, through everything I do, I’ll show you."
Her breathing eased slightly, as though my words had calmed her. She lowered her gaze, drew a deep breath. Still, she hadn’t let go of my hand. Her fingers clung tightly to mine.
For a time, neither of us spoke. In the silence, Lucareth’s steady breathing echoed through the room like a gentle rhythm. Annabel rested her head against my chest again, her trembling less than before.
"You know... my mother always told me, ’Life is full of surprises.’ But I never expected this... to be carrying your child again. And this time, I don’t mind the idea."
There was still unease in her voice, but hidden beneath it was something else: surrender, acceptance. As I looked at her, I realized that no matter how much of a battle she waged inside herself, in the end, she was searching for an anchor in me.
"It means more than you realize, that you don’t mind," I said. "Because that tells me you carry not only fear, but hope too."
Annabel lifted her head slightly. Her eyes were moist, but now as though reflecting a newborn light within. That small, uncertain smile on her lips felt like the greatest victory I had ever won.
Just as her gaze lingered on me, a faint rustle shattered the silence. Lucareth stirred in bed. His eyelids fluttered, then with a drowsy groan he sat up.
When his small eyes found us still holding hands, and his mother’s tear-stained face, his imagination leapt to an entirely different scene.
"Mother! Did he hurt you?!" he burst out, his voice sharper than I expected. That shaky but determined tone from his little body cut the air of the room in an instant.
Annabel flinched, a blush spreading across her face. She tried to pull her hand away, but I didn’t let her. Lucareth had already leapt from the bed, his bare feet slapping the stone floor as he marched toward us.
Throwing his arms out protectively before his mother, his tiny frame braced itself to block me. "I’m here, Mother, I’ll protect you! Nobody will hurt you!"
Annabel rolled her eyes, biting her lip in quiet embarrassment. As for me, I couldn’t help but smile at the seriousness on Lucareth’s face.
"Lucareth." I lowered my voice, steady and calm, and knelt down to meet his eyes. "You misunderstood. I’m not hurting your mother. Quite the opposite, we were talking about something very important."
His brow furrowed. He glared at me for a moment, then turned to his mother. Annabel avoided his gaze shyly, her lips parting with a faint, hesitant motion.
"Lucareth..." she whispered, her eyes warm yet timid. "Soon... you’ll have a sibling."
The boy’s expression froze in shock. His mouth opened, his eyes grew wide. Then, suddenly, that surprise melted into a gleaming excitement that lit up his whole face.
"Really?!" he shouted, his voice trembling now with joy. "I’ll have a brother or sister?!"
Annabel nodded faintly, her eyes giving him shy confirmation. Lucareth’s eyes sparkled as he flung himself into her arms. Tugging at her robe with his little hands, he blurted out between gleeful laughs: "Mother, will it be a girl or a boy? I can take care of them! I’ll teach them how to use a sword! I’ll even comb their hair like you do!"
Annabel, surprised but smiling sweetly, stroked her son’s hair. For the first time that night, there was pure lightness and joy in her eyes.
As I watched them, the contradictions inside me faded for a moment. Lucareth’s delight, Annabel’s shy smile, and the warmth filling the room made me realize something: perhaps I was slowly, unwittingly, drawing closer to the peaceful life I had once longed for when I came to this world.
Of course, there was still much I had to do. But maybe, just maybe, I needed to learn to step back and savor moments like these... I sound like some old bastard saying that.
Lucareth suddenly turned his head toward me, his eyes still gleaming with excitement.
"Father!" he said, his voice filled with a pride I’d never heard from him before. "When the baby comes... we’ll protect them, right? All of us, together!"
"Yes, Lucareth. All of us together."
Annabel lowered her gaze in embarrassment, but the blush on her cheeks and the shy smile on her lips told me clearly enough: she was finally mine.