Chapter 76
I went to the hospital with Gregory to take Sophia. Not because I cared, but because I just wanted to see if this routine of hers could fool everyone every time.
Or rather, I wanted to see with my own eyes whether Gregory would completely ignore the truth that she sold me out, all because of this.
Surprises always come so suddenly—Sophia was pregnant.
Looking at the report the doctor handed over, Gregory seemed completely stunned, frozen for a moment.
Sophia, on the hospital bed, had already slowly come to. Her voice was weak, tears welling in her eyes: "Gregory, I... I didn't dare tell you. I was planning to secretly get rid of it."
Gregory's brows furrowed tight, falling into self-doubt: "Just that one time, how could it be so coincidental? I..."
I spoke up coolly from the side: "Congratulations, you're going to be a dad."
Gregory's face turned livid as he tried to explain something to me: "I didn't... I originally wanted..."
I turned to Sophia on the hospital bed, not missing the triumphant smile on her face.
"So what's more urgent now—finding Emma? Or dealing with this child of yours?" I looked at Gregory mockingly, not bothering to hide my expression.
Gregory lowered his head and sighed deeply: "We'll talk about this when we get back. Sophia, you rest for now. I... I'm going out for a smoke."
"Gregory." Sophia quickly called out to him, her voice soft and delicate, "Don't go, I'm scared being alone."
Gregory's steps paused briefly, but only for an instant. Soon, he quickly left the hospital room.
I also picked up my bag from the side, preparing to leave. Sophia quickly stopped me: "Ms. Wilson, wait a moment."
"What is it?" I turned around calmly to ask.
Her gaze remained pitifully helpless as she bit her lower lip hesitantly. Finally, as if making up her mind, she said in a very small voice: "Ms. Wilson, could I ask you for a favor? I know I shouldn't ask you, but right now, besides you, no one can help me."
I was curious: "What do you want me to do?"
Hearing my words, Sophia's eyes brightened: "Ms. Wilson, since that person is from your company, this makes things easier. I want you to help me talk to him properly, tell him that what he said before was all made up. Look, I'm pregnant now. Gregory and I have a child. But if this thing becomes real, Gregory and I are finished."
I raised my eyebrows, pretending not to understand: "So what he said is all true then?"
Sophia didn't answer directly: "Does it matter? My sister has already left, and she chose to leave herself. We're all moving toward a better direction now. Isn't this the best outcome?"
I smiled mockingly: "Sophia, you really keep shattering my perception of you. Even at this point, you still think things are moving in a better direction? Emma should just pave the way for everything you have?"
Sophia bit her lip, a flash of coldness passing through her eyes: "Ms. Wilson, you're not me. You wouldn't understand."
I laughed coldly: "Whether I understand or not doesn't matter. I just don't know if Gregory will understand."
Sophia's face darkened: "You won't help me?"
I didn't hold back my eye roll: "I don't think we have any relationship that would make me want to help you, do we?"
"Ms. Wilson—" Sophia wanted to say something more.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I quickly walked out of the hospital room, turning a deaf ear to her urgent voice.
At the end of the hospital corridor, sunlight shone through a small window, outlining Gregory's silhouette with a ring of light. He was looking down, smoking, the smoke rings curling up and enveloping him, his expression unreadable.
I'm seriously starting to wonder if Gregory is just a natural-born actor, or if he's been putting on an act for so long that he's actually started believing his own performance.
Since I'd already let him know the truth, I didn't want to watch his performance of suffering: "If there's nothing else, I'll be going."
He quickly stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it into a nearby trash can, then hurried toward me, his face showing the pain of difficult choices: "Can you not leave yet? I need someone to help me right now."
A flash of disgust crossed my eyes, which I quickly concealed: "I don't think I can help you with anything. You and Sophia... you even have a child now, so let Emma's matter be in the past. Isn't that the best solution?"
Gregory frowned, his hands clenched into tight fists, veins even bulging on his neck: "How can it be in the past? Emma is my wife. If what that person said is all true, I don't know how to face Sophia. Can you tell me what I should do now?"
I forced a smile: "Have you thought about Emma being sold to Solstice? Three years—how is she doing now?"
He never gave it a thought. He was too consumed by his own dilemma, utterly blind to what becomes of a woman sold into that hellhole. Even though I've long since stopped caring, facing a Gregory like this still makes me wish I could trace every scar I bear onto his skin with a blade.
There's no such thing as true empathy in this world.
Gregory looked at me in horror. Only after my reminder did he remember that wife whose fate was unknown: "Didn't you tell me Emma was doing well? You knew all along she was sold there, didn't you? When she was first sold, did she suffer a lot? Did you help her?"
People are like this—to hide their selfishness, they automatically imagine things developing in the direction they hope for: "What if I told you that when I found her, she was already covered in wounds and nearly dead? What if I told you she was resold, and because of disfigurement, she almost became an organ donor?"
Gregory's expression showed horror: "That's impossible. She's smart, so she definitely could escape. Even if the experience was terrible, as long as she's okay now, that's what matters. Can you help me tell her that no matter what she's become, what she's been through, she's still my wife? Tell her to come back. From now on, I'll love her properly and give her happiness."
I laughed coldly, catching a glimpse from the corner of my eye of a figure quickly hiding at the hospital room doorway: "Tell her to come back—what about Sophia in that room? She's carrying your child."
Gregory lowered his head and spoke slowly: "If Sophia really wants to keep the child, after it's born, we'll say it's mine and Emma's. Emma is so kind, she'll definitely treat it as her own. As for Sophia... I'll talk to her properly."
The sound of a water glass falling and shattering came from inside the room. I curved my lips into a bright smile: "You don't need to explain these things to me. Right now, I'm afraid Sophia is the one who needs an explanation from you."