Chapter 91
After reading the fake pregnancy test result, Isla was certain now that someone was watching her. Someone who didn’t want her relationship with Gabriel to survive.
But right now, she had to tell him the truth.
She sniffled and spoke softly, her voice trembling. “This result is fake. I can prove it p>
For a brief moment, Gabriel’s expression softened–hope flickered in his eyes. He wanted to believe her. But something inside him was fighting it.
Isla quickly grabbed the envelope she had dropped on the table. She tore it open, and stepped closer to him. She held his hand and placed the new envelope in it.
“This is the correct result,” she said firmly.
Gabriel looked at her, his eyes unreadable. He hadn’t opened it yet; he was just staring at her face, searching for something her truth. Maybe more.
“I was feeling sick this morning,” Isla continued. “So I went to the hospital after you left for work. The doctor ran a test, and that was the result. I’m only four weeks pregnant, not eight. I wanted to surprise you tonight. All these,” she gestured at the candle dinner.
“These were part of the surprise I prepared for you before things got messy. Please, believe me p>
Gabriel’s hands trembled as he unfolded the paper. He held it like it carried the weight of his entire world. His eyes darted across the words–then suddenly, he froze. His jaw tightened. The fire in his eyes returned.
“Is this the result your doctor gave you?” he asked, his nostrils flaring.
“Yes,” she replied quickly, hope glimmering through her tears. “That’s the real one p>
Gabriel nodded slowly. His voice came low but sharp. “This says you’re eight weeks pregnant, Isla. Not four, like you claimed. I don’t know what to believe anymore p>
He lifted the result in the air, his hand shaking slightly.
Isla’s heart dropped. She rushed forward, snatched it from him, and read it herself. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She took the first result–the one Gabriel had brought earlier–and compared the two. Her hands trembled violently. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks.
“No… this isn’t possible,” she whispered. “How can this be p>
Gabriel’s eyes burned red now; the calm green was gone. He stood there, watching the woman he loved crumble, mumbling to herself in confusion and fear. (1)
Isla paced back and forth, whispering, shaking her head as if she could force it all to make sense. Finally, she stopped and looked at him, her nose red and runny.
“Fine… tomorrow, you and I will go to the Wyndham hospital together,” she said between sobs. “We’ll run another test, and you’ll see I wasn’t lying to you. Please, Gabriel, believe me p>
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She reached out to touch him, but he stepped back.
“Please,” she cried, her voice cracking, “I could never cheat on you. You have to believe me p>
Gabriel said nothing. His heart screamed to trust her–but his mind couldn’t. Not after everything he’d seen.
He turned to leave, but then paused. Something inside him made him look back. Isla’s face lifted with a flicker of hope, thinking he had changed his mind.
“I know you’ve always had something for Jeff,” he said coldly. “But I never thought you’d stoop so low as to open your legs for him. You’ve hurt me, Isla. Deeply p>
And then, without another glance, he walked toward the door.
He paused once more at the threshold. “You can sleep in your room tonight,” he said quietly. “I need to be left alone p>
The door closed behind him.
Isla’s knees gave way. She fell to the cold marble floor, sobbing until her body shook. Tears soaked her white silk dress as her voice broke again and again.
The perfect night she thought would seal their bond had turned into a nightmare.
She cried for hours–three, maybe more–staring at the photos, and at the papers, those results that had destroyed her. None of it made sense. Who was behind this? Who would go this far? Newest update provided by.net
The floor beneath her felt colder now. Her sobs grew weaker, her mind numb. She thought she had prepared herself for any betrayal from Gabriel. But she was wrong.
He hadn’t cheated. He hadn’t lied. But he had done something worse–he didn’t believe in her.
And that broke her more than anything ever could.
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Florence
Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.