Chapter 193: Consequences.
THERESA.
The moment the figure came into full view, the deep-seated annoyance slumbering within me flared up into an immediate, white-hot blaze.
"What exactly are you doing here?" I asked without losing a single beat, my voice dripping with pure, unadulterated disgust as I glared across the room.
"I can’t believe you still have the sheer audacity to linger around here!" Lawrence barked firmly, leaping up from his seat to stand tall. "Don’t you have even a single shred of shame left in you?" he yelled, his hands balling into tight fists at his sides.
"Ella!" Alex called out softly instead, his voice trembling as he completely ignored the barrage of hostile voices lashing out at him from every corner of the room.
His eyes were bloodshot and heavily swollen, as though he had been weeping for hours without pause, and his entire demeanor was thoroughly disheveled—a clear sign that an immense amount of physical and emotional turmoil had passed through him in a very short span of time.
I shifted against the mattress, trying once again to sit up straight so I could confront him head-on. Almost instantly, Leonard placed his firm, reassuring hands gently on my shoulder, carefully guiding me upward until I was seated properly and comfortably against the pillows.
"Ella..." Alex called out once more, his broken voice barely carrying over the hum of the monitors.
I rolled my eyes instantly in irritation, opening my mouth to hurl a harsh string of insults and lash out at him for even daring to step into my room. But every single venomous word died right down in my throat the moment a shocking scene played out before my very eyes.
Alex dropped to his knees right there on the cold tile, his legs touching the hard ground as he placed his shaking hands on his knees and hung his head incredibly low in complete submission.
"I am truly, deeply sorry, Ella..." he sobbed out, choking heavily on his own words as tears spilled freely down his face. "Because of me... because of how terribly irresponsible I have been... I have really caused you to go through so much unbearable pain." He added, sniffling loudly as he tried to swallow back the tide of his rushing tears.
I sat there with my mouth hanging slightly open in complete disbelief, too stunned to even think of closing it. My eyes remained impossibly wide, fixed on the broken figure kneeling helplessly on the floor before me.
For several long seconds, all I could do was stare, my mind struggling to reconcile the image in front of me with the man I had once known so well. It was as though my thoughts had frozen completely, refusing to accept what my own eyes were clearly witnessing.
Was this...really Alex?
The question echoed relentlessly through my mind, growing louder with every passing heartbeat.
’No!’ A voice echoed within my head.
Exactly—it definitely could not be him.
There was simply no way the shattered, defeated man kneeling before me could be the same Alex who had dominated my life for five long years.
The Alex I knew was proud to a fault, almost frighteningly so. His pride wasn’t merely a part of his personality; it defined him. It shaped every decision he made, every word he spoke, and every step he took. He carried himself with an unwavering confidence that bordered on arrogance, refusing to bend, compromise, or lower himself for anyone.
That man would never bow his head. He would never willingly place himself beneath another person.
And dropping to his knees?
That was utterly unimaginable.
The Alex etched into my memories would have considered such an act the greatest humiliation imaginable.
He was the type of man who would rather embrace a slow, brutal death than surrender even the smallest fragment of his fierce, unyielding pride. To him, dignity was worth more than life itself, and that was precisely why the sight before me felt so impossibly surreal.
"I am a total jerk, Ella!" he cried out loudly, his voice echoing off the stark hospital walls. "I deserve to die for what I’ve done!" he added, his frame trembling violently as he remained pinned to the cold floor.
I swallowed hard, a sudden lump forming in my dry throat.
Why on earth was Alex suddenly acting like this?
What could have possibly broken his towering ego and reduced him to such a desperate, weeping mess right before my eyes?
Had he somehow uncovered a truth he was never meant to know?
Did he find out about something critical while I was lying helpless in surgery?
Desperate for answers, I immediately turned my head to look at Lawrence. I furrowed my brows with intense urgency, silently trying to signal him, pleading with my eyes for him to speak up and give me a clue.
But Lawrence completely misunderstood my desperate look. Taking my furrowed brow as a sign of deep distress, he immediately lunged forward and delivered a hard, vicious kick straight into Alex’s shoulder.
"Get the hell out of here!" Lawrence yelled, his voice booming with protective rage. "Theresa doesn’t want to see your pathetic face ever again!"
To my utter disbelief, Alex didn’t even attempt to retaliate or fight back. Instead, he absorbed the blow, pulled himself back up from the floor, and once again fell directly onto his knees, positioning himself in a posture of total, humble repentance.
"I am an irresponsible father, Ella!" Alex sobbed out, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks without restraint. "Punish me however you see fit! Do whatever you want to me!"
My eyes widened in absolute shock, my heart skipping a violent beat against my ribs.
He found out about my baby?
It was no wonder he was standing there looking so broken and utterly destroyed. The heavy realization hit me like a physical blow, sending a wave of panic racing through my veins.
Does he think my baby is dead?
What on earth actually transpired out in those hallways while I was unconscious?
"I know my child will never forgive me for this, and I know you won’t either..." Alex paused, his red, swollen eyes lifting slightly to meet my gaze through a thick veil of tears. "...but I am completely ready to face whatever terrible consequences you throw at me."
I rolled my eyes immediately at his pathetic display of grief.
Lawrence had just assured me that my baby was completely fine and safe, yet here was Alex, completely convinced that our child was dead.
A sharp spike of panic threatened to pierce through my chest, but I quickly forced myself to stay grounded. I trusted Lawrence implicitly—he would never lie to me about something as sacred as the life of my child.
In fact, as the realization washed over me, I realized that this misunderstanding was actually the best outcome possible. It was far safer if Alex continued to believe the worst; he didn’t deserve to know that my child was still alive and breathing.
"I don’t want to see your face right now, Alex!" I said firmly, swiftly adopting a cold, heartbroken facade to play along with his assumption. "If you so desperately want to be punished for what you’ve done..." I paused, letting my gaze darken as I clenched my fingers into tight, white-knuckled fists against the bedsheets. "Then go and take your grievance, and go ask your dead child....how you should be punished!" I declared without the slightest bit of hesitation.
The color instantly drained from Alex’s face, leaving him looking ghastly pale under the harsh fluorescent lights.
"Ella!" he cried out in absolute shock, his voice cracking with unbearable anguish. "Why on earth didn’t you just tell me from the beginning? We could have avoided losing the baby entirely if you had just spoken up!" he pleaded, his tone foolishly attempting to shift a fraction of the weight onto my shoulders.
Before the words could fully settle in the air, Lurgard snapped. He rushed toward Alex like an enraged predator, reaching out and snatching him violently by his shirt collar, dragging him up off his knees with sheer physical strength.
"You absolute asshole!" Lurgard roared, his voice booming like thunder within the confined space of the room. "Are you seriously trying to lay the blame on Theresa for your own pathetic failures?" he demanded, his face contorted with pure, unadulterated rage.
With a brutal surge of force, Lurgard shoved Alex backward before bringing his heavy fist straight down across Alex’s cheekbone. The sharp impact echoed through the room, the raw power behind the blow splitting Alex’s lip open and sending a trickle of fresh crimson blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth.
Yet, despite the brutal strike, Alex did not raise a hand to retaliate. He simply took the blow, offering no defense, no resistance, and no anger in return.
And that utter lack of response was easily the weirdest, most unsettling part of this entire encounter.
What on earth was actually going on inside that head of his?