Chapter 302: Terminate The Pregnancy

\[Theodore\]

"That's why Sarah left you!"

Liv's parting words hung in the air like a physical blow, her voice cracking with emotion that reverberated through the marble-floored hotel lobby. I stood rooted to the spot, my lungs suddenly forgetting how to function, as the full weight of her accusation crashed over me in waves. The color drained from my face as my mind raced to connect the fragmented pieces of information.

When I finally regained my senses and lunged forward to catch her arm, desperate for any morsel of information about Sarah, Liv whirled around with such ferocity that several nearby guests flinched. Her eyes, usually warm and friendly, now burned with an intensity that made me take an involuntary step back.

"Go enjoy your life with Victoria," she spat, each syllable dripping with venom as she violently shook off my grasp. Her nostrils flared, and for a moment, I thought she might strike me again. "That's clearly what you want."

"Liv, wait—" I called after her, my voice cracking with an urgency I couldn't disguise. But she was already pushing through the revolving doors, her petite frame vibrating with fury as she disappeared into the night.

I stood paralyzed, my outstretched hand still hovering in the empty space where she had been. Behind me, the charity gala continued in full swing—the tinkling of champagne glasses, the polite laughter, the soft orchestral music—all of it suddenly transformed into a grating cacophony that scraped against my raw nerves. I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging slightly at the roots as a heavy weight settled in the pit of my stomach.

Victoria materialized at my side like a specter, her designer gown rustling as she placed a manicured hand on my arm. Her touch felt alien.

"Theodore," she murmured, her voice honeyed with practiced concern. "We should return to the event. Everyone's waiting for your speech about the foundation." Her fingers tightened slightly on my sleeve, subtly attempting to steer me back toward the ballroom.

I jerked away from her touch as if burned, my patience evaporating like morning dew in harsh sunlight. "Not now," I growled, not bothering to mask the irritation that colored my tone.

My eyes scanned the lobby anxiously, looking for anyone who might have information about Sarah. Relief flooded through me when I spotted James hurrying toward us, phone clutched in his hand. But the grave set of his mouth and the tight lines around his eyes sent a fresh wave of dread coursing through me.

I reached out and gripped his elbow, pulling him away from Victoria's earshot. "What is it?" I demanded, my voice dropping to an urgent whisper. My heart hammered against my ribs so violently I was certain he could hear it.

James hesitated, glancing briefly at Victoria before meeting my gaze with visible reluctance. "I just spoke with Liv," he said quietly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Sarah was at the hospital today. That's why Liv came looking for you."

"Hospital?" I repeated, the word thick and alien on my tongue. I gripped James's shoulder with bruising force, my fingers digging into the expensive fabric of his suit. "What happened? Is she alright?" The questions tumbled out in a desperate rush, my usual measured control nowhere to be found.

James winced slightly under my grip but didn't pull away. His fingers tightened around his phone until his knuckles turned white, and he seemed to be carefully weighing his next words.

"The amniocentesis results came back today," he finally said, his voice dropping so low I had to lean in to hear him. The hesitation in his eyes told me he was holding back something significant. "The baby has a high risk of neural tube defects."

The world tilted beneath my feet. A roaring filled my ears, drowning out the ambient noise of the gala as the blood drained from my face. My stomach clenched with a nauseating mixture of guilt and fear. I leaned against the wall for support, my legs suddenly unable to bear my weight. "Why didn't she tell me?" I asked hoarsely, the question escaping before I could fortify myself against the vulnerability it revealed. My voice emerged strangled, tight with a volatile mixture of anger, fear, and hurt that I couldn't begin to untangle.

James's expression softened with something uncomfortably close to pity. "Because she thought it wouldn't matter," he replied, holding my gaze with unwavering steadiness despite the agony he must have seen reflected there. "She believes you'd want her to terminate the pregnancy."

The bitter irony coated my tongue like metal, the taste of my own hypocrisy nearly making me gag. I pushed myself away from the wall, a new determination hardening my features. "I need to see her," I said, already turning toward the exit, my movements propelled by a desperate urgency.

Victoria materialized in front of me as if conjured by my intention to leave, her face carefully arranged into an expression of concern that didn't quite reach her calculating eyes. She placed a hand on my chest, the pressure light but unmistakably restraining.

"Theodore," she said, her voice taking on that honeyed quality that I suddenly realized I'd grown to detest. "The gala is about to begin. Your speech is scheduled in ten minutes." Her lips curved into a smile that seemed practiced rather than genuine. "You can't possibly leave now."

I stared down at her, really seeing her perhaps for the first time in weeks.

"Get out of my way," I said, my voice dangerously quiet, each word precisely enunciated and edged with steel.

Victoria's eyes widened slightly, her composure slipping for just a fraction of a second as she sensed the shift in my demeanor. She recovered quickly, her hand moving to my arm in what was meant to be a soothing gesture.

"You're upset, I understand," she murmured, her voice dropping to a confidential whisper that reminded me of a snake's hiss. "But these people have donated millions to your foundation. You have responsibilities—"

"I said," I cut her off, each word like a shard of ice, "get out of my way." I stepped around her without waiting for a response, my longer stride easily outpacing her as I headed for the exit. I didn't bother looking back as I called over my shoulder, "Alex can handle the speech."

I was already pushing through the revolving doors, the cool night air hitting my face like a blessing after the stifling atmosphere inside. My driver, ever vigilant, had the car waiting at the curb. Within moments, we were pulling away from the curb, the city lights blurring past the windows as we sped toward Sarah's home.

During the drive, I loosened my tie with trembling fingers, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. My mind raced with a thousand fragmented thoughts, each more painful than the last.

I pressed my forehead against the cool window glass, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. How had I let my wounded pride blind me so completely? Sarah had needed me, and where had I been? Trying to make her jealous with Victoria, of all people. The self-loathing that washed over me was so intense it was almost physical, a bitter taste filling my mouth.

The car pulled up to Sarah's elegant townhouse, and I noticed Daniel's car parked outside. Of course—he'd been tutoring Lily, and she often visited William and Emma here. But I pushed the thought aside. I had no time to dwell on their presence. I needed to see Sarah.

I rang the doorbell, my heart hammering against my ribs with such violence I feared it might burst through my chest. The seconds stretched into an eternity as I waited, shifting my weight from foot to foot, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. When Sarah finally appeared, she deliberately closed the door behind her before stepping outside, the message clear—I was not welcome inside, not welcome near the children. Her face was pale, almost ghostly in the porch light, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. The sight of her like this—broken, vulnerable because of me—felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

"Sarah," I began, reaching for her hand before I could stop myself, desperate for any connection. My fingers closed around hers, noting with alarm how cold they were, how they trembled slightly despite her outward calm. "Why didn't you tell me about the baby? About the test results?"

She didn't pull away from my touch. "And what good would telling you have done?" Her voice was oddly calm, almost clinical, but I could hear the undercurrent of pain beneath the practiced detachment. "So you could accompany me to terminate the pregnancy?"