Chapter 130

Dr Knight

Her immediate physical reaction told me everything I needed to know before she even spoke a word. She gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. "Oh my God! Are you serious right now?" Her eyes weren't filled with sympathy or concern – only revulsion and disappointment. It was clear she wasn't upset about my supposed health crisis but rather about the impact it would have on her.

I waited patiently, giving her the opportunity to express sympathy, offer support, or at least pretend that she cared about my wellbeing regardless of my sexual capabilities. I silently hoped she would say something like, "I'm so sorry to hear that" or "We'll get through this together" or any response that showed basic human compassion. But instead, the heartless reply that eventually came from her lips was, "Mmm, so basically what you're saying is that you're completely useless in bed now! What am I supposed to do with that?"

I couldn't hide my shock at her blunt cruelty, even though I'd expected something similar. I raised my eyebrows in disbelief and decided to push the scenario further to see just how mercenary she truly was. "So I take it this means you're not interested in getting back together with me after all? I was actually thinking about going to Angela and my son later today to explain that they should stay away from me because of my condition. I was seriously considering asking you to marry me again so we could rebuild our life together during my recovery."

She actually had the nerve to giggle at my suggestion, as if the very idea was ridiculous. "Oh, sweetie, I'm really sorry to burst your bubble, but that's definitely never going to happen! Don't even think about it for a second. I need a man who can satisfy me in every way, not someone I'd have to play nurse for without any... benefits." Her callous response confirmed every suspicion I'd ever had about her true character.

"Wait, are you being serious right now?" I asked, deliberately injecting shock and hurt into my voice, even though her reaction was exactly what I had anticipated. I took a step toward her, but she immediately retreated further, maintaining the distance between us as if I were radioactive. "Why are you backing away? I thought you loved me, Bella? Didn't you just try to kill yourself because you couldn't bear to live without me?"

"Look, it's nothing personal," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "but could you please just keep your distance? I really don't want to risk getting infected with whatever disease you might have. I'm still young and beautiful – I want to live a long, healthy life and enjoy all it has to offer." The complete disconnect between her dramatic suicide attempt and her current attitude was almost comical in its absurdity.

"So after all your declarations of undying love, this is who you really are," I said quietly, more to myself than to her. Then an idea struck me – one final test to expose her completely. "Let me ask you something, Bella. If you could name your price, how much would it take for you to stay with me forever? Despite my condition, despite everything. How much would you need to play the devoted wife to a sick man who can no longer satisfy you sexually?"

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully and gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, clearly calculating in her mind what she believed I was worth. After a brief pause, she looked directly into my eyes and stated plainly, without a hint of shame or hesitation, "All of your money. Everything you have – your savings, your investments, your property, your future earnings. All of it transferred to me, legally binding, with no way for you to take it back."

The naked greed in her voice finally broke any last thread of respect or sentiment I might have still harbored for her. I couldn't contain my disgust any longer and actually spat at her feet, barely missing her designer slippers. "You absolute heartless bitch! I wouldn't give you a single penny even if I were dying tomorrow and you were the last person on earth who could save me. You're pathetic, Bella. Truly pathetic."

"How dare you!" she screeched, her face contorting with rage. "After everything I've done for you! You ungrateful bastard!" Her mask had completely fallen away now, revealing the ugly truth beneath the beautiful facade. She lunged toward me, but I stepped back quickly.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out of her room, struggling to control my breathing as waves of anger and disgust washed over me. The intensity of my emotions was making me feel physically ill again – my chest tightened painfully and I could feel the beginning of another coughing fit threatening to overtake me. I quickened my pace, desperate to get away from the toxic atmosphere surrounding Bella before I completely lost control of my emotions or my health deteriorated further.

"Dr. Knight, are you alright?" called a nurse as I staggered past the nurses' station. "You really shouldn't be up and walking around." I waved her off without stopping. "I'm fine," I lied, "just need some fresh air." In truth, I felt anything but fine. My encounter with Bella had left me emotionally drained and physically weaker than I wanted to admit.

Fighting to maintain my composure, I managed to make it through the hospital hallways and finally reached my car in the parking garage. Once inside the privacy of my vehicle, I allowed myself a moment to catch my breath and regain my strength before starting the engine. As I drove away from the hospital, my mind raced with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

I couldn't help wondering if Angela would react the same way if I were to put her through a similar test. Would she also reject me at the first sign of serious illness or impairment? But almost immediately, I dismissed the thought as unfair and unworthy. The truth was, I had no intention of testing Angela in such a cruel manner – not because I was afraid of her potential response, but because deep down, I didn't want her to sacrifice the rest of her life taking care of me if I truly was seriously ill. What if my condition was terminal? How could I possibly ask her to watch me deteriorate and die after she had already spent years raising our son alone because of my selfish choices?

"She deserves better than that," I whispered to myself as I drove, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "She deserves better than me." Yet despite these noble thoughts, I couldn't deny the powerful pull I felt toward Angela and Nathan – my true family, the ones I had foolishly abandoned years ago.

After what seemed like an eternity on the road, I finally arrived at Angela's modest house. As I pulled up to the curb, I spotted Nathan playing with someone in the small, well-maintained garden in front of the house. My heart swelled at the sight of my son, but then constricted painfully when I realized the "someone" was a man – a stranger to me, but clearly not to Nathan, judging by their comfortable interaction.

"Who is that?" I muttered to myself, feeling an unexpected surge of jealousy. "And why is he playing with my son?" I sat in the car for a moment, observing them. The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, fit and handsome in an approachable way. He was showing Nathan how to throw a football properly, his hands gently guiding my son's smaller ones with obvious care and patience. They were both laughing.

Gathering my strength and determination, I carefully opened my car door and stepped out, making a conscious effort to appear steady and healthy despite the weakness I felt in my limbs. I forced my face into what I hoped was a natural-looking smile, not wanting to alarm Nathan with any signs of illness. Opening my arms wide in greeting, I called out warmly, "Nathan! Hey, buddy! I'm here just like I promised!"

"Dad!" Nathan exclaimed with genuine excitement that warmed my heart. He immediately dropped the football and sprinted toward me at full speed, his small face lit up with pure joy. He crashed into me with the full force of his little body, wrapping his arms around my waist in a tight hug that nearly knocked me off my unsteady feet. "You came back! I knew you would!" His absolute faith in me, despite my years of absence, was both beautiful and heartbreaking.

He jumped up excitedly, clearly expecting me to lift him as many fathers would. I desperately wanted to swing him up into my arms and hold him close, but I was painfully aware of how weak I felt – I wasn't confident I could support his weight without risking dropping him or collapsing myself. Instead, I ruffled his hair affectionately and said, "Nathan, guess what? We're going to go on a little adventure together right now."

"Really? Just us?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement. "Like a real father-son trip?" The hope in his voice made my chest ache with regret for all the years I'd missed. "Yes, buddy," I promised. "Just you and me, making memories together." I could see Angela and the mystery man approaching us with concerned expressions, but my focus remained on Nathan's joyful face.

Just then, Angela's voice cut through the moment, her tone a mixture of surprise and concern: "Go where exactly, Angelo? We weren't expecting you back so soon." She was walking toward us with the unknown man following closely behind her, his hand protectively at the small of her back in a gesture of intimacy that didn't escape my notice.

I maintained my smile, not wanting to create tension in front of Nathan. "I thought I'd take my son camping for a few days – just me and him spending some quality time together in the great outdoors." The idea had literally just formed in my mind as I spoke the words, but suddenly it seemed like the perfect way to create meaningful memories with Nathan in the limited time I might have left.

"Camping? Really?" Nathan bounced excitedly. "With tents and marshmallows and everything? Can we go fishing too?" His enthusiasm was contagious, and for a moment, I forgot about my health concerns in the face of his pure joy. "Absolutely," I promised. "We'll do it all – fishing, hiking, telling ghost stories around the campfire. The whole experience."

Before Angela could respond, the man beside her stepped forward and firmly stated, "No, that's not happening." His tone was calm but authoritative, as if he had some right to make decisions regarding my son. He placed his hand on Nathan's shoulder in what appeared to be a familiar, comfortable gesture that indicated an established relationship between them.

I felt my hackles rise immediately at his presumption. Who was this guy to tell me – Nathan's biological father – what I could or couldn't do with my own son? I stepped closer to him, deliberately looking him up and down with obvious skepticism and barely concealed hostility. "Excuse me, but exactly who the hell are you to be making decisions about my son?" My voice came out harsher than I intended, causing Nathan to look up at me with confusion.

"Dad, that's Mike," Nathan said, seemingly surprised I didn't know who he was. "He comes over all the time. He taught me how to ride a bike without training wheels!" The pride in my son's voice when speaking about this stranger's accomplishments felt like a knife twisting in my gut – that should have been my role, my memory to share with my son.

The man pulled Angela even closer to his side in a clearly possessive gesture and stated with unwavering confidence, "I'm soon to be Angela's husband and Nathan's stepfather. I've been a very close friend of the family for over two years now, and I care deeply about both of them. We already have plans for this weekend – Nathan has a soccer game tomorrow that he's been practicing for all month."

"Two years?" I repeated, the implications sinking in. This wasn't some new boyfriend – this was someone who had been in my son's life longer and more consistently than I had. The thought was sobering and painful. I looked at Angela for confirmation, and her slight nod told me everything.