The Sixth Baby Won’t Be His - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
You are reading The Sixth Baby Won’t Be His, Chapter 11: Chapter 11. Read more chapters of The Sixth Baby Won’t Be His.
Gerrald knew deep in his bones that no matter what he did, he could never make things right with Jenny.
"I'm going to find Jenny," he vowed. "Dead or alive, I have to find her."
Meanwhile, fate was playing its twisted games. Just before boarding my flight, a foreign girl ahead of me collapsed - acute appendicitis. She gasped words in a language only I understood. I couldn't just walk away when death was breathing down her neck. I rushed her to the hospital and stayed through her surgery. Later, I saw the news: my original flight had crashed in a ball of flames.
Meet Julie - razor-sharp wit, confidence that could stop traffic, and the kind of woman who made things happen. She'd been traveling solo until fate threw us together. The irony? The very thing that nearly killed her ended up saving my life.
Out of obligation at first, then genuine care, I helped her recover. She had this way of noticing everything - including the missing finger I'd stopped thinking about.
"What's the story here?" she asked one day.
Maybe I'd been holding it in too long, but the truth came pouring out. When I finished, Julie leaned back, arms crossed, and dropped a bombshell: "Want me to take care of those assholes for you? Trust me, I'm damn good at this."
I laughed, but damn if her words didn't warm places in me that had been cold for years. "I can't drag an innocent person into my mess," I said.
After discharge, Julie insisted I crash at her place. I didn't argue. She even hooked me up with a new identity - goodbye Gerrald, hello fresh start. Her home revealed the truth: this woman had serious power, connections, and zero fear.
Then Julie dropped another bombshell: Lydia was dead.
They found her in an alley, brutalized beyond recognition. Some parts of her... let's just say she suffered. Meanwhile, Gerrald had publicly called off their wedding, claiming me as his wife and desperately searching for me. The irony tasted bitter - he'd thrown me away for her, now he wanted me back? Too little, too late.
Fate had other plans though. While shopping with Julie, she ducked into the restroom, leaving me face-to-face with Gerrald. The man looked hollowed out - unshaven, dark circles under bloodshot eyes, his once-powerful frame now gaunt.
"Jenny..." His voice cracked as he reached for me.
I recoiled. "Don't touch me."
He jerked back like I'd burned him. "I know I screwed up," he rasped. "I didn't understand my own heart. I hurt you. I killed our baby." His hands shook. "I don't deserve forgiveness. I just needed to see you, to tell you how sorry I am."
I stared him down. "If you're truly sorry, atone for your sins. Don't waste my time with empty words."
The hope in his eyes shattered. "Jenny... if there's a next life... could I make it up to you then?"
I held up my maimed hand. "Know why I refused to reattach this? It wasn't just a finger I was cutting off - it was every feeling I ever had for you." My voice turned to ice. "In this life, the next, and every one after, I'll leave you behind and never look back."
He swayed like a man gutted. "I understand," he whispered. With a smile more painful than tears, he added, "Be happy, Jenny," before walking away.
Five minutes later, an explosion of screams filled the air.
"Someone jumped!"
"Call 911!"
"Too late - his head's... he's gone."
Julie returned, frowning at the commotion. "What's all the fuss about?"
I glanced at the crowd, then back at her. "Nothing important. Just someone finally paying their debts."
(The End)
"I'm going to find Jenny," he vowed. "Dead or alive, I have to find her."
Meanwhile, fate was playing its twisted games. Just before boarding my flight, a foreign girl ahead of me collapsed - acute appendicitis. She gasped words in a language only I understood. I couldn't just walk away when death was breathing down her neck. I rushed her to the hospital and stayed through her surgery. Later, I saw the news: my original flight had crashed in a ball of flames.
Meet Julie - razor-sharp wit, confidence that could stop traffic, and the kind of woman who made things happen. She'd been traveling solo until fate threw us together. The irony? The very thing that nearly killed her ended up saving my life.
Out of obligation at first, then genuine care, I helped her recover. She had this way of noticing everything - including the missing finger I'd stopped thinking about.
"What's the story here?" she asked one day.
Maybe I'd been holding it in too long, but the truth came pouring out. When I finished, Julie leaned back, arms crossed, and dropped a bombshell: "Want me to take care of those assholes for you? Trust me, I'm damn good at this."
I laughed, but damn if her words didn't warm places in me that had been cold for years. "I can't drag an innocent person into my mess," I said.
After discharge, Julie insisted I crash at her place. I didn't argue. She even hooked me up with a new identity - goodbye Gerrald, hello fresh start. Her home revealed the truth: this woman had serious power, connections, and zero fear.
Then Julie dropped another bombshell: Lydia was dead.
They found her in an alley, brutalized beyond recognition. Some parts of her... let's just say she suffered. Meanwhile, Gerrald had publicly called off their wedding, claiming me as his wife and desperately searching for me. The irony tasted bitter - he'd thrown me away for her, now he wanted me back? Too little, too late.
Fate had other plans though. While shopping with Julie, she ducked into the restroom, leaving me face-to-face with Gerrald. The man looked hollowed out - unshaven, dark circles under bloodshot eyes, his once-powerful frame now gaunt.
"Jenny..." His voice cracked as he reached for me.
I recoiled. "Don't touch me."
He jerked back like I'd burned him. "I know I screwed up," he rasped. "I didn't understand my own heart. I hurt you. I killed our baby." His hands shook. "I don't deserve forgiveness. I just needed to see you, to tell you how sorry I am."
I stared him down. "If you're truly sorry, atone for your sins. Don't waste my time with empty words."
The hope in his eyes shattered. "Jenny... if there's a next life... could I make it up to you then?"
I held up my maimed hand. "Know why I refused to reattach this? It wasn't just a finger I was cutting off - it was every feeling I ever had for you." My voice turned to ice. "In this life, the next, and every one after, I'll leave you behind and never look back."
He swayed like a man gutted. "I understand," he whispered. With a smile more painful than tears, he added, "Be happy, Jenny," before walking away.
Five minutes later, an explosion of screams filled the air.
"Someone jumped!"
"Call 911!"
"Too late - his head's... he's gone."
Julie returned, frowning at the commotion. "What's all the fuss about?"
I glanced at the crowd, then back at her. "Nothing important. Just someone finally paying their debts."
(The End)
End of The Sixth Baby Won’t Be His Chapter 11. View all chapters or return to The Sixth Baby Won’t Be His book page.