Chapter 83: Please don’t leave Mommy alone
"I never thought you liked ice cream this much," Shawn chuckled, watching Betty nearly smear the cold treat across her lips. Even the tip of her nose had a dab of cream.
He pulled out a tissue and leaned closer, gently wiping it away. Betty only giggled, unbothered.
"No, I don’t," she admitted between laughs. "I actually prefer churros."
Shawn’s brows rose. "Then why drag me here? We could’ve gone to the café instead." He looked genuinely baffled. From the way she had pointed so eagerly at the shop, he had been convinced she loved it.
Betty scooped up another spoonful, her tone light but her words deliberate. "I just wanted to distract you. You were too deep in thought—it showed all over your face."
Shawn stilled, her voice sinking into him. There had been countless times when he became lost in his own head, too burdened to notice anything else. And somehow, Betty always seemed to notice. She didn’t press him with questions—she simply pulled him out of his shadows in the gentlest ways.
There was something about her that felt like home, though he couldn’t quite tell when their closeness had grown into something this natural.
"You don’t have to worry, Brother Shawn," Betty said softly, her smile as bright as ever. "You’ll find Kathrine soon. I believe in you."
His gaze lingered on her. This was the same girl who had once offered him a hand of friendship when no one else would. Back when he’d been expelled, accused of harming a principal’s son, and beaten for something he hadn’t done—Betty had been there. Her smile then had been just as radiant, lifting the weight off his shoulders in a way nothing else could.
"Let me take you for churros after this," he said suddenly.
The smile on her face faltered.
"What? You don’t want to?" Shawn tilted his head, puzzled.
Betty’s lips twitched. Her stomach was already protesting from the food at the stall, and the ice cream had only made it worse. She’d only agreed to it to lighten Shawn’s mood. ’And now churros? My stomach’s going to explode... but how do I say no?’
Her thoughts screeched to a halt when she noticed the way Shawn was smiling—teasing, almost knowingly.
"Brother Shawn... are you making fun of me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion.
However, he only shrugged, a faint grin tugging at his lips, and went back to eating his ice cream.
***
The evening passed with Daniel and Anna retreating to their respective rooms. After nearly losing control, Daniel had forced himself to rein it in, burying his focus in work as a way to push thoughts of Anna aside.
But the distraction refused to leave him.
Again and again, his mind drifted back to her—the warmth of her lips, the way she had melted against him, the softness of her breath. Each memory struck like a spark, and suddenly, he found himself craving more.
Should I check on her? The question circled his thoughts endlessly, only to be dismissed just as quickly.
No. She’s probably furious. I crossed a line.
Yet a minute later, he was already on his feet. I’ll just see what she’s doing... The thought of Anna turning to anyone else for comfort tightened something sharp inside his chest. His legs moved of their own accord, carrying him out of the room.
But before he could reach her door, he noticed Mariam hurrying out of her chamber, her face pale with worry.
"Mariam, what happened?" His voice, deep and edged with authority, startled the older woman.
"Master, the madam—" she began, but the urgency in her tone and Anna’s name were enough. Daniel didn’t wait. He pushed past, flinging Anna’s door open in one sharp motion.
The sight stopped him cold.
Anna was curled up on the bed, her face drained of color, lips dry and trembling. She winced as though even the smallest breath brought pain.
Daniel’s heart lurched. In two strides he was beside her, dropping to his knees. "Anna, what’s wrong?" His hand moved instinctively to her forehead—only to find her skin cold as ice.
Her eyes, glassy with tears, flickered to him. "M-my stomach... it hurts," she whispered, her voice breaking.
The look on her face—fragile, pleading—hit him harder than he was prepared for. A tightening gripped his chest, sharp enough to steal his breath.
Before he could speak, Mariam rushed in with a steaming cup of cinnamon tea and a hot water bag in her arms. "Madam, this will help with the pain," she said quickly, setting them down and moving to Anna’s side.
Daniel stepped back, watching in silent confusion. He understood what it was now—her cycle. He knew of it, of course, but this... this raw display of pain was something he had never witnessed up close.
The helplessness clawed at him. He was a man who faced enemies without blinking, who commanded power with ease. Yet here, confronted with Anna’s suffering, he felt utterly undone.
It was more gut-wrenching than he had ever imagined.
Daniel stood quietly to the side, watching as Mariam fussed over Anna with a patience that could only belong to a mother. She carefully propped Anna up and coaxed her to sip the steaming tea.
Anna, however, acted like a sulky child—grimacing after every swallow, making faces that begged Mariam to stop. But Mariam didn’t relent until the cup was empty.
Anna’s cycle always brought her severe cramps, yet this time the pain had knocked her down harder than usual. Deep down, she blamed herself. She had pushed too far, forcing her body through extra exercise earlier, desperate to dismiss Daniel’s lingering presence in her mind.
When Mariam was done, Daniel finally stepped forward. He took the warm water bag from her hands without hesitation.
"I’ll do it," he said firmly.
Mariam paused, eyes softening at the sight of her master volunteering. It was rare, almost tender, and the sight alone swelled her heart. She bowed out quietly, leaving them alone.
"Give it to me, I can manage," Anna muttered, stretching her hand toward the bag.
But Daniel only shook his head. "Sleep." His tone was stern, yet carried a quiet gentleness that made refusal impossible.
She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. She was too tired to fight, and something about his insistence left her stomach in knots.
So she lay back, watching as he pulled the duvet over her and carefully placed the warm bag across her abdomen. The soothing heat seeped into her, easing the sharp edges of pain.
"You were fine earlier," Daniel said softly, his gaze flicking toward hers. "What happened so suddenly?"
Anna pressed her lips together, then looked away. "I... overworked," she murmured.
Daniel frowned. Overworked? We hardly did anything that could— His thought broke off when she cleared her throat, drawing his eyes back.
"Don’t read into it. I just exercised after you left," she admitted, her voice low.
For a beat, he stared at her, speechless. Then, slowly, the corners of his lips curved in amusement.
’So this is what she does to distract herself.’
Every new piece of her he uncovered—her stubbornness, her quirks, even the lengths she’d go to avoid him—overwhelmed him. And yet, instead of frustrating him, it left him strangely... amused.
And more drawn to her than ever.
Time slipped by in silence. Anna drifted into slumber, her breath steady and faint. Daniel remained at her side, still holding the warm bag gently against her stomach. Only when her breathing deepened, soft and even, did he finally ease back, reluctant to break the fragile peace.
But Anna’s dreams were anything but peaceful.
At first, her thoughts felt calm, a rare stillness spreading through her. Then—like a cruel blade—an old memory tore through the quiet, dragging her back to a night she wished she could forget.
She was standing in her room, hand pressed against her stomach, a soft smile tugging at her lips. Her touch was tender, reverent, as though she could already feel the life growing within her. She was only three weeks along, yet the joy she carried seemed to glow from her face.
"Mommy loves you so much, my baby," she whispered, her voice trembling with hope. She dreamed of the day she could hold her child, bring them into the world, and shower them with love.
But then, the warmth in her expression froze.
Her smile faltered, and her eyes widened in horror as a red trickle slid down her leg, staining the floor beneath her.
"No..." she whispered, voice cracking. The pain struck sharp and merciless, coursing through her body until she doubled over, clutching her stomach.
Tears blurred her vision. "No, no—my baby. Please, don’t leave Mommy alone!" Her cries rang through the emptiness, but no one came.
The room dissolved into darkness, suffocating and absolute.
Anna gasped awake, her chest heaving, sweat dampening her brow. "Hah—"
Her hand instinctively flew to her stomach, as if searching for what she had lost, the echo of her grief still raw in her heart.