- 3.
The system announced, “Host, Elijah’s
affection meter is at ten percent.”
I was shocked.
How?
I hadn’t done anything. Why the sudden
surge?
“Host. I can give you another chance if you
<
want to continue the mission.”
“No.”
I immediately refused.
Eight years of trying, I was exhausted.
I didn’t want to try anymore.
My love for Elijah was fading.
My emotions were disappearing.
A doctor entered, updating me on my
condition.
“The bullet hit your abdomen, and the baby…
we couldn’t save it.”
“What?”
Elijah exclaimed.
The usually calm spiritual leader was stunned.
“She was pregnant?”
“Yes, Mr. Hayes, we tried our best.”
I touched my abdomen, where a life had once
existed.
Now, it was gone.
After the doctor left. Elijah got out of bed and
took my hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in his
eyes.
But why would he feel remorse?
He’d never been kind to me.
I cared for him, massaged him, yet he only
ignored or yelled at me.
Once, I baked him a birthday cake, and he
threw it in the trash.
He said, “Stop wasting your effort. I’ll never
love you.”
Then he’d go to his study, stare at his first
love’s portrait, tracing her collarbone.
He’d whisper his love for her.
Even when his family pressed him to marry
me, he refused.
Now I understood. I’d interfered with his life.
I should have left.
