Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 598:

Rachel leaned forward. “If you were so certain of your position, you’d be talking to Hector, Carol, and Aron instead of me.”

Tracy’s confidence wavered for a moment before she recovered. “That’s ridiculous! I—I just wanted to surprise them, that’s all.”

“If you’re so sure it’ll be a delightful surprise, go ahead and give it to them,” Rachel said sharply, turning to leave.

Tracy darted after her, panic in her voice. “Are you out of your mind? I’m pregnant with Brian’s child. How can you still want to marry him? Don’t you see how much trouble this baby will bring into your life? This is my child—do you really think you could ever accept it? What are you even trying to achieve?”

Her words tumbled out in frantic bursts, but Rachel stood unwavering. The more Tracy unraveled, the more composed Rachel remained, her calm a stark contrast to Tracy’s desperation.

“What’s the matter?” Rachel asked evenly. “Afraid I might not treat your child well?”

“Of course I am!” Tracy shot back, voice trembling. “Do you honestly expect me to believe you’d raise it as your own? Stop pretending, Rachel. You’re not that selfless.”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile curved Rachel’s lips. “You’re right. Kindness has never been my strength. So if you don’t want your child to endure a life of hardship under my care, perhaps you should think twice about bringing it into this world. It might be the more thoughtful choice—for everyone.”

Tracy’s jaw tightened, her eyes blazing with fury and desperation as she glared at Rachel. “Do you even have a shred of humanity left? How can you be so cold? This isn’t an inconvenience—it’s a life! And you’re asking me to just erase it?”

𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝗱𝘁𝗵𝓮 𝗰𝗵𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 @ gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⩼.c𝗈𝗺

Rachel’s expression remained unreadable, her voice steady but laced with quiet authority. “You have two options. First, I raise the child, and you relinquish all connection to it. Or second, you remain its mother, but it will grow up branded as illegitimate. The choice is yours.”

Tracy’s anger surged. Instinctively, she grabbed the glass beside her, arm trembling with raw emotion. For a heartbeat, it seemed she might hurl it.

But Rachel did not flinch. She stood tall, gaze cold and unwavering, silently daring Tracy to act.

The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and raw emotion. Tracy’s arm hovered, breath ragged. Finally, with visible effort, she lowered the glass, lips pressed into a thin, bitter line. The fight drained from her, replaced by a quiet, seething resignation.

Rachel walked ahead, her steps measured and deliberate, while Tracy followed, her mind racing. When they reached the hospital lobby, the noise of the bustling crowd provided the perfect cover for Tracy’s next move.

Suddenly, Tracy dropped to her knees and clung to Rachel’s leg, her voice quivering with contrived desperation. “Rachel, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. Punish me if you must. You can do whatever you want. But please, don’t take this child away. It’s innocent. Let me keep it. I’m begging you.”

Her performance was flawless. Within seconds, onlookers paused, drawn by the dramatic scene unfolding before them. Sympathy rippled through the crowd:

One woman whispered, “This is so tragic. No matter what, the baby doesn’t deserve to suffer.”

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