Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 851

Chapter 851 You Just Want Me to Make Room For Your Darling Charlene

Deirdre froze before jeering, “Aww, I feel so bad for you, Mr. Brighthall. Spending quality time with Charlene must have exhausted you, but duty compelled you to carry on pretending to be a good father by escorting me to this insignificant check-up!”

Brendan stiffened. His lips parted as though he wanted to say something before giving up. “I'll carry you into the car.”

“Oh, no need to trouble yourself with me.” Deirdre pulled the coat over herself, her hostility palpable, and made her way slowly to the car as much as her sight could offer her. She took the passenger seat.

The journey was a silent one. Could anyone believe just how these two would unconsciously hold hands together a few days ago whenever they stopped at a traffic light? Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

They reached the hospital without a hitch, and the procedure began. The ultrasound quickly revealed the child to his parents —Brendan felt his palm sweating at the sight. It was just hard to imagine how small their baby was. It was not even 9cm long.

“Miss McKinnon’s health was rather critical the last time, you know? I was honestly pretty worried,” the doctor remarked, smiling. “But the baby’s fine and stable. All signs point to us expecting a healthy, hearty baby!”

“That’s good news,” Brendan instinctively moved his hand to Deirdre’s. “Isn’t it, Dee?”

Deirdre evaded him and pulled the coat over her tightly. “Are we done now? I'd like to go,” she said flatly, showing no sign of maternal joy. It was as if the baby had nothing to do with her. Brendan’s gaze darkened. “Dee, that’s your child too,” he replied in a low voice.

There was something familiar about what he said. She realized it was something he had said while she was seeking an abortion in Surstate. At that time, his emotions—rage, agony—had been pouring out of him. Now that she thought about it, it almost felt like he had been planning a hundred steps ahead.

“You're wrong,” Deirdre retorted coldly. “They aren’t mine at all. 1 was just a means to bring your child into the world. If it weren’t for you using my freedom as a bargaining chip for them, they would have been long gone by this point. To me, this isn’t my child. It’s just a clump of cells that is feeding off me.”

It was brusque. Brendan let out a shaky, low breath, his fingers trembling. He gripped the young woman’s shoulders tightly and forced her to look at him. “No, Dee, tell me this isn’t what you really think.”

Deirdre leveled him a scowl of contempt. She pushed his hand away from her and helped herself up by the wall. “Don’t forget what you’ve promised me. When the child’s born, I get my freedom.”

She waited in the car for a long while before Brendan finally returned. He probably had a cigarette or two because a faint scent of nicotine pervaded the car when he arrived. He turned the engine on and said, “You'll be staying in the family mansion from now on.”

Deirdre raised her head suddenly. “Why?”

“Because being alone in the mansion is boring. At least my mother can take care of you in the family mansion.”

Deirdre laughed aloud at how lame his lie was. “Oh, Brendan Brighthall. Will it kill you to just come clean and call it a quarantine?”

Brendan’s eyes trembled. “It’s not as bad as you make it sound. You can still go out whenever you want to, so it’s not really a quarantine, is it? I simply thought you looked bored in the mansion and decided

that maybe you would like to keep my mom company.”

“If it’s not a quarantine, then am I allowed to reject it?”

Brendan answered her question with silence, and Deirdre looked away.

“You'll be safe in the family mansion,” he said. She snickered. “You don’t have to put so much effort into making up excuses, Brendan. You got me already. I’m just a puppet under your control, so why not be honest with someone who has lost all forms of agency? Just tell me you want me to move aside so that there’s room for your darling Charlene. It’s way better than whatever flimsy, crappy excuse you can make.”