Chapter 135: 135

Dr Knight

Nathan proudly explained in a hushed whisper, "This is the kitchen window. Mom used to sneak out through here all the time to watch you. She'd climb out, go spy on your house for a while, and then come back in before I woke up. Sometimes she'd just sit in her car down the street from your place for hours." The matter-of-fact way he shared this information, as if it were perfectly normal behavior, both touched and concerned me.

"She really did that?" I asked, genuinely surprised by the extent of Angela's apparent surveillance. I was impressed by her determination and also deeply moved that she had maintained such a strong connection to me despite my absence from her life. It suggested a depth of feeling that I had not dared to hope for after all the pain I'd caused her. "All these years, she's been watching over me like that..."

"Yep!" Nathan confirmed proudly. "She's really good at it too. Nobody ever catches her. She says it's because she moves 'like a shadow in the night,'" he added, clearly quoting his mother's words. "She used to take pictures sometimes too. There's a whole box under her bed with photos of you at different places."

I whispered into his ear, bending down to his level, "So, how exactly are we supposed to see inside from here? I can't really make out anything through that small window." I was genuinely curious about his plan, while also becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the idea of spying on Angela in her private moments.

Nathan frowned at me as if my question revealed a disappointing lack of intelligence on my part. "Dad, use your brain a little! We're obviously going to open this window super quietly, climb inside, and then tiptoe all the way to her bedroom so we can see what she's doing with Mike." His tone suggested this was the most obvious plan in the world, and he was slightly exasperated at having to explain it to a supposedly adult person.

I was momentarily stunned by his proposal, which crossed a line from playful "spying" into actual breaking and entering. "And then what?" I asked cautiously, trying to understand the full extent of what he was suggesting. "What exactly do you think we should do once we're inside?"

He shook his head vigorously, looking at me like I was being intentionally dense. "Dad, why are you being so stupid about this? We're not going to do anything to them! We're just going to secretly watch what she's doing with him. You know, to see if she really likes him or if she's just pretending because she's lonely."

"Wait, are you suggesting that your mom might be..." I hesitated, unsure how to phrase my question appropriately for a nine-year-old. "Do you think she might be, um, sleeping with this guy? In her bedroom?" I asked, my voice dropping even lower with discomfort at discussing such matters with my child, while simultaneously feeling an unwelcome surge of jealousy at the thought.

Nathan's expression immediately closed off, and he didn't give me a direct answer. He just pouted silently and looked away, which I interpreted as either not understanding the implication or being uncomfortable with the question. I immediately regretted bringing it up, mentally kicking myself for putting my son in such an awkward position.

"Okay, forget I asked that," I said quickly. "Let's just... see what they're up to, but without breaking into the house, alright? That's not something we should be doing." I was trying to find a middle ground between indulging Nathan's spy game and teaching him appropriate boundaries.

"Fine," he sighed heavily, clearly disappointed by my lack of adventurous spirit. "Let's go then." Despite my reservations, he began guiding me toward a different vantage point, carefully leading the way around the perimeter of the house while staying hidden in the shadows. I followed, telling myself this was just harmless curiosity rather than a serious invasion of privacy.

As we approached another window, I suddenly heard voices drifting through the partially open blinds. We ducked down beneath the windowsill, and I caught a glimpse of Angela and Mike standing in what appeared to be the hallway outside her bedroom. Before I could suggest that we should leave, I found myself instinctively listening to their conversation, unable to tear myself away.

I heard Mike's voice first, low and pleading with an unmistakable husky quality that made my skin crawl. "Please, Angela, we've been together for almost two years now. We're getting married soon. I love you so much. Why won't you let me show you physically how much you mean to me?"

Angela's response was firm and immediate, her voice carrying clearly through the window. "I've told you repeatedly, no. Not now, not yet. I'm not ready for that step, and you promised you'd respect my boundaries when we started dating." There was a tension in her voice that suggested this wasn't the first time they'd had this discussion.

Mike let out an audible huff of frustration, his tone becoming slightly harder. "Is it still because of him? Are you seriously still in love with Angelo after all these years? The man who abandoned you and your son? He doesn't even notice you exist most of the time! He barely acknowledges Nathan, and now suddenly he shows up and you're putting your life on hold again?"

I felt Nathan tense beside me at Mike's harsh words, and I placed a protective arm around his shoulders. The accusation stung precisely because it contained a kernel of truth – I had abandoned them, and I hadn't noticed Angela's continued presence in my life until recently. But hearing someone else speak about me that way, especially to Nathan's mother, ignited a protective anger I hadn't expected.

"That's not fair, and you know it," Angela responded, her voice soft but firm. "My reasons are my own, and they're not up for debate. Please respect that and just go back to your house for tonight. We can talk about this another time when we're both calmer." I could hear the weariness in her voice, suggesting this was a recurring argument between them.

Through the gap in the blinds, I watched as Mike suddenly stepped forward and attempted to kiss Angela, his movements aggressive rather than affectionate. To my relief, she immediately pulled back, nearly shouting, "I told you not to kiss me without asking! What part of that don't you understand?"

Instead of respecting her clearly stated boundary, Mike shamelessly wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground despite her protests. With his foot, he kicked open the bedroom door and carried her inside while she struggled against his grip. I felt my blood boil at this blatant disregard for her consent, and I had to fight the urge to immediately burst in and confront him.

"I love you, Angela," I heard him say as he placed her on the bed. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you love me back. I know you're still hung up on your ex, but I can be patient. I can wait until you're ready, but you have to give me something here." His tone made it clear he wasn't actually willing to wait at all.

Witnessing this scene unfold, I immediately turned to Nathan and urgently whispered, "You need to get out of here right now, buddy. Go back to our camp immediately." Nathan looked at me with shocked, wide eyes, clearly understanding that something serious was happening. "But Dad, aren't you coming too? What are you going to do?"

"I'll be right behind you," I promised, though I had no intention of leaving Angela alone with this man who clearly didn't understand the meaning of consent. "This is grown-up stuff, and you shouldn't be here for it. Please, Nathan, go back to the tent and wait for me there." After a moment's hesitation, he nodded and silently retreated, casting one last worried glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the darkness.

Once I was sure Nathan was safely away, I continued watching through the window, ready to intervene if necessary. Inside the bedroom, I saw Angela forcefully push Mike away and slap him hard across the face, her voice ringing with righteous anger. "Don't you dare fucking touch me like that again! What the hell is wrong with you? I've told you a hundred times I'm not ready!"

I was preparing to enter the house and confront Mike myself, but suddenly felt a wave of weakness wash over me. It was as if all the strength was draining from my body at once. My heart began racing irregularly, and each breath became increasingly difficult to draw. The symptoms were worse than before, my body finally rebelling against the strain I'd been putting it under by ignoring my condition.

As I struggled to remain upright, leaning heavily against the side of the house, I made a split-second decision. Perhaps this situation, as unfortunate as it was, presented an opportunity. If Angela truly had feelings for me, as Nathan and Mike both seemed to believe, then my continued presence in her life would only complicate things. She deserved better than a man who might be seriously ill, who had already failed her once before. Maybe the kindest thing I could do was to give her a reason to stop loving me, to finally move on with her life.

With this thought in mind, and using the last of my strength, I forced myself to barge through the back door (which Nathan had earlier pointed out was often left unlocked) and into Angela's bedroom. I fixed them both with a furious glare, pretending I had misinterpreted what I'd witnessed. "What the actual fuck is going on in here?" I demanded loudly, making myself appear as angry and judgmental as possible.

Angela immediately leaped up from the bed, her face flushing with embarrassment and confusion. She trembled slightly as she tried to explain, "Angelo! This isn't what it looks like at all, I swear! Nothing happened, he was..." She reached toward me imploringly, clearly desperate for me to understand the truth of the situation.

I deliberately pushed her hand away from my chest, hardening my heart against the hurt in her eyes. She was so sweet and innocent, so worthy of love and respect, that playing this role felt like a physical pain. I wanted nothing more than to make things right with her, to spend whatever time I had left loving her properly. But I believed I was giving her something better—freedom from attachment to a man who might soon become a burden rather than a partner.

"Don't bother explaining anything to me," I said coldly, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the increasing pressure in my chest. "From now on, the only connection between us is our son. Nothing more." Each word felt like swallowing glass, but I forced myself to continue the charade.

She shuddered visibly at my words, tears welling in her beautiful eyes. "No, please, Angelo. You have to listen to me. I love you. I've always loved you." Her voice broke on the last words, making my resolve waver for a moment.

I turned away quickly, unable to bear the sight of her pain knowing I was causing it. I suppressed my own tears through sheer willpower and emphasized my cruel words, "Forget about me, Angela. Just forget me. Congratulations to both of you on your engagement." My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears, but I hoped she would believe my act.

Without waiting for her response, I rudely rushed out of the house, partly to maintain the illusion of anger but mostly because I could feel myself weakening rapidly. I didn't want to lose consciousness in front of her—that would reveal the truth behind my harsh behavior and undermine the clean break I was trying to create.

By the time I made it back to our campsite, I was gasping for breath, my vision beginning to tunnel around the edges. Nathan was waiting anxiously by the tent as promised, his young face creased with worry. "Dad, are you okay?" he asked immediately, noticing my labored breathing. "You're super white, and you're sweating a lot."

I tried to respond reassuringly, but before I could form the words, everything around me began to fade. The last thing I heard was Nathan's frightened voice calling my name as the world tilted sideways and everything went completely black.