C11 Will You Take That Back? 

When I arrived at Regina's ward, she had already fallen asleep. There was a middle-aged woman in the ward—the nurse that Kieran had hired. As she was here, that meant that I didn't need to stay any longer.

I left the hospital and took a taxi back to the villa

After a night of work, I finally returned. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I was pregnant that I was sleepy. When I returned to my bedroom, I was so sleepy that I do not know what to think.

A few hours later, I was vaguely woken up by a strong smell of cigarette smoke. At the corner of the room was a black shadow. Kieran.

When had he gotten back? The bedroom was thick with smoke, and the doors were shut. How much had he smoked? It looked like a lot.

"You're back."

He never smoked, so why would he smoke now? Has something happened?

He didn't reply. Instead, he simply stared at me with an emotion so complicated that I couldn't read it. With all the smoke rushing around me, I got off the bed and opened the window.

As soon as I had gotten up, he immediately pulled me into his arms. His warmth cascaded over me, and I took a deep breath.

No matter how many times I struggled, he wouldn't let me go.

"Did you drink?"

"Do you hate me?" I didn't understand why he would say something like that. I gazed at him again to see that he was frowning. He hadn't shaved this morning, I can tell.

"Hate?" I reached out my hand to break away from his arms, but he was too busy holding me still. His eyes seemed desperate as if he was looking for the answer wherein his life depended on it.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Will you take it back?" His dark eyes fell on me. Perhaps, he really was drunk. His eyes appeared to be a bit hazy.

"Take what back?"

He looked at me and immediately stopped talking. His palm fell down my body, stroking my curves. I froze.

"Kieran, I'm Teresa—not Regina." I held his hand down. "Look at me."

Without saying anything, he picked me up and pulled me a bit closer. The kiss was much more urgent this time—even violent. And it was accompanied by the taste of alcohol.

"Kieran, I'm Teresa! I'm Teresa! Look carefully." I trembled under his grip as I struggled to hold his face.

He appeared to be exhausted. After staring at me for a few seconds, he finally breathed out, "Yes!" The movements still hadn't stopped.

He threw his coat at the foot of the bed.

Looking at the absurdity on the floor, I suddenly froze. No. My child. I can't do this while I was pregnant.

While he was preparing, I pushed him off the bed, pulling the blanket over me. "Kieran," I protested. "You're drunk."

Without another word, I headed straight to the bathroom.

Only after keeping my composure did I walk out. There was no way I was going to do it while I was carrying my baby.