Once, my paranoid love

My intent had been to explain my thoughts and feelings, to bridge the gap between us, but Derek wasn’t about to let me continue.

“Derek, I know it’s difficult for you, but-” I began, but he abruptly interrupted me.

“It’s not difficult for me,” he declared with unwavering determination. The stark clarity of his words resonated through the room, and I was taken aback by his resolute tone.

“I’m sorry. This is due to my carelessness,” I confessed, my voice tinged with regret. As I uttered those words, I also pulled Derek into a warm embrace.

Derek, still holding me close, began to speak, his voice gentle yet filled with a hint of sadness. “And what about abortion? Did I tell you to abort it? Did I say I didn’t want this child?” His words conveyed the depth of his commitment to both me and the unborn child.

His next words brought tears to my eyes. “I want this child. I’d like you to give birth to this baby,” he declared, his grip on me tightening as if to underscore his conviction. The weight of his words settled over us, a shared commitment to the future that we would build together.

In my heart, I knew that I had been mistaken in my earlier fears. Derek’s love was unwavering, and it was not based on pity but on genuine affection and devotion. However, I couldn’t help but wonder if my hesitations and concerns had led him to believe otherwise.

“Please don’t feel pity for me. You’re doing this for me, right?” I gently rubbed his back, my voice filled with a mix of tenderness and gratitude. I didn’t want our relationship to be driven by a sense of obligation but by the mutual love we shared.

Derek’s response was clear and heartfelt. “Put an end to it, Elena. I’m not pitying you,” he asserted, his words carrying the weight of his sincerity. His love for me and his desire to welcome my child into the world were unwavering.

“It’s not yours nor the child’s fault. Why do I wish to abort this fetus? Am I too heartless?” Derek’s voice was laced with concern as he voiced the questions that had undoubtedly weighed on his mind. “Elena, I love you,” he declared, his words a reminder of the love that bound us together.

I listened to him in silence, the depth of his affection washing over me like a soothing tide. Derek’s love was a force that could not be denied, and as I closed my eyes, I felt an overwhelming desire to reciprocate that love.

“Derek, is it possible for me to not love you back?” I thought, my heart swelling with affection for this remarkable man. His love had the power to inspire love in return, and I wanted to convey that love in the most tangible way possible.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists in his hair, holding him even closer, as if by doing so, I could communicate the depth of my feelings.

“Stop being sad,” I whispered my voice tender and soothing.

Without turning to look at me, he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions. “Never say you’re going to leave me.” His words were a plea, a testament to the fear of losing me that had taken hold of his heart.

“I’m not going to,” I murmured softly, my voice filled with sincerity. I released my gentle hold on him, allowing my emotions to find their balance once more. Derek’s hand found its way to my abdomen, a touch filled with both love and anticipation.

He leaned in, his words a declaration of love that warmed my heart. “I love you, Elena, and everything you have.” His words held a promise of unwavering support and a commitment to the future we were building together.

In that tender moment, as the two of us found solace in each other’s presence, a maid entered the room with a steaming bowl of chicken soup. Derek, eager to nurture both me and the unborn child, accepted the bowl. He cradled it in his hands, his eyes filled with determination.

“Now is the time to complete it,” Derek asserted, his voice steady and filled with warmth. “Otherwise, the baby will not be able to grow up.” His words were a reminder of his dedication to my child’s well-being, a commitment to ensuring that my baby would have every advantage.

“The kid will be as thin as you when he or she is born,” Derek remarked, a playful twinkle in his eye.

“I’m not thin,” I protested, a mock-indignant tone in my voice.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“Yes, you are. Open your mouth now.” Derek’s voice was firm but caring, as he offered me a spoonful of soup. It was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes about his devotion and commitment to my well-being. I obeyed, as I often did, letting him take care of me.

Derek shared his plans for our future, the concern for our unborn child evident in his words. “We will go to have a check-up tomorrow,” he declared, setting a course for our shared journey. I nodded in agreement, grateful for his attentiveness.

As I began to eat the soup, I was pleasantly surprised. It was not the culinary disaster I had half-expected but rather a delicious, spicy delight. Derek’s effort to prepare something special for me touched my heart.

“You’re not a lousy chef,” I complimented him, my words carrying the warmth of appreciation for his gesture.

Derek’s smile in response was genuine and heartwarming. “Truly?” he asked, his eyes filled with a mix of surprise and happiness. I smiled back at him, my heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

I couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly Derek had accepted our situation and embraced the challenges it presented. I reached out to touch his hand, a silent gesture of gratitude and affection. “Derek,” I began, my voice filled with emotion.

‘How will I be able to repay you?’ I thought.

He called me by my name, “Elena,” and it was as if he was assuring me that no repayment was necessary. His love was given freely and without expectation.

“I don’t want to eat anymore. Just hold me for a while,” I expressed, feeling an overwhelming need for the comfort of his embrace. I leaned into him, resting my head on his strong chest, my worries and anxieties momentarily forgotten.

“Please let me sleep,” I murmured softly, my eyes closing as I sought solace in the peaceful embrace of sleep. In Derek’s arms, I found a sanctuary, a place where my fears and uncertainties could be put to rest.

Derek’s POV.

I touched her arm, her voice a soft plea that tugged at my heart. She wanted me to hold her, to offer the solace that only a warm embrace could provide. Without hesitation, I gathered her into my arms, cradling her gently against me. I ran my fingers through her slick hair, feeling her skin, which had grown slightly cool. I was acutely aware that she couldn’t afford to catch a cold in her current condition, as it could affect our baby’s health.

Gently, I laid her on the bed and curled up next to her. Elena clutched my shirt tightly, as if seeking reassurance in her touch. Her eyelids were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. The weight of our situation bore heavily on her, and I wanted to do everything in my power to ease her burden.

“Is it all right now?” I asked softly, my voice filled with humility. Elena didn’t respond with words, but a subtle nod conveyed her acceptance of my presence and the comfort I provided.

It didn’t take long for the exhaustion of the day to finally catch up with her, and Elena drifted off to sleep. I brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face, my fingers tenderly tracing the contours of her delicate features. I knew that this night had been a tumultuous one, filled with emotions and revelations that neither of us had anticipated.

With that realization, I had embraced the reality of our situation, acknowledging the shared desire to welcome the child into the world. The fears and doubts that had initially clouded my judgment had given way to a sense of responsibility and an unwavering commitment to Elena and the baby.

Leaving the bed, I made my way to the balcony, feeling the cool night air against my skin. I called Obin, who answered in a sleepy tone, “Boss?”

I stood on the balcony, my voice low and resolute as

He had asked, “Are you there, boss?” but my response was laden with the weight of a fateful decision.

“Kill him,” I declared, my gaze fixed on Elena, who lay asleep in the room behind me. The words hung in the air, a chilling command that left no room for hesitation.

Obin’s voice crackled through the phone, filled with surprise and disbelief. “What?” he exclaimed, seeking clarification on the order I had just issued.