My Boyfriend's Pregnant Mistress

Chapter 8 Second Chance

"I..." For a long moment, Celeste could only gape at him, words failing her completely.

She had no clue how Felix had learned of her pregnancy, no idea how to explain why she'd chosen to keep the tiny life hidden from him, her heart too broken to put the truth into simple sentences.

Felix's fingers closed tightly around her injured right hand, his grip rough and unforgiving.

A sharp, searing pain shot up her arm, and Celeste flinched hard, hunching her shoulders as she fought back a whimper.

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she spoke, her voice cracking with hurt and despair, "You and Beatrice already have a child on the way. Would you ever care about this baby inside me? If I had this child, how would I ever explain to them that their father has another woman, another family, waiting for him?"

"You're lying! You know better than anyone how badly I've wanted a child of my own. You get pregnant and hide it from me—you're guilty, you know you are. This baby isn't mine, is it?" Felix roared, his voice sharp with unbridled rage, his face twisted with suspicion and fury.

Beatrice hovered nearby, her tone soft and deceptively gentle, playing the role of the concerned peacemaker to perfection as she fed the flames of Felix's anger.

"Celeste, I spotted your ultrasound report by accident when I was at the obstetrics clinic for my own checkup. You must have conceived in the last two months... but Felix has been right by my side every single day during that time. Did you get drunk and make a mistake with someone else? If you tell the truth, Felix will forgive you, I know he will."

There had been alcohol that night, but it had been Felix who'd been drunk beyond reason, not her.

He'd come back to the mansion late, carried by his chauffeur, reeking of whiskey, and he'd mistaken her for Beatrice in his intoxicated state.

She could still feel his liquor-heavy kiss pressed against her neck, his lips murmuring Beatrice's name over and over against her skin, as if she wasn't even there.

In that single, devastating moment, she'd known for certain—Felix's heart was gone forever, never to return to her.

She'd never planned to keep the baby once she'd found out she was pregnant.

Through burning tears, Celeste lifted her chin, forcing her voice to stay steady as she met his furious gaze. "This baby is yours. That night, you came home drunk, and you were with me."

But Felix refused to believe her, his jaw tight with stubborn disbelief. "I didn't see you the next morning."

Celeste said quickly, her voice desperate to make him hear the truth, "I had to leave at dawn for the hotel. A VIP guest had requested a custom tasting menu exclusively prepared by me—I had to be in the kitchen before sunrise."

Beatrice let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, shaking her head as if she was heartbroken for Celeste. "What a terrible coincidence. The hotel kitchen is full of men... surely one of them took advantage of you, didn't they? Just tell the truth, Celeste. Felix will stand up for you; he'll get you justice."

With every manipulative word from Beatrice, Felix's rage grew, boiling over until it clouded every ounce of logic and reason.

Jealousy and anger consumed him completely, leaving no room for doubt or empathy.

"If this baby isn't mine, then you'll terminate the pregnancy," he said, his voice cold and final, leaving no room for argument.

He grabbed Celeste by the wrist and dragged her down the hospital corridor towards the obstetrics wing.

Celeste pounded against his chest and back with her free hand, kicking weakly at his legs, but she was no match for his strength, unable to break free from his iron grip.

She'd wanted to end the pregnancy on her own terms, quietly, without his involvement—but she'd never imagined being forced into it by the child's own father, branded a liar and a cheater for a crime she hadn't committed.

"Felix, this is your child! You'll regret this for the rest of your life!" Celeste screamed, her voice raw and hoarse with grief.

Felix dismissed her words entirely, not a single flicker of doubt crossing his face. He ordered the hospital staff to restrain her to the operating table, his voice low and coaxing, sounding like a demon whispering in her ear as he loomed over her.

"Be good, Celeste. If you can get pregnant once, you can do it again. Get rid of this baby, and we'll have a real one together someday."

'No, there will never be another child between us,' she thought numbly as the anesthetic pulled her under.

When Celeste woke next, a sharp, crippling pain throbbed in her lower abdomen, making it hard to breathe.

The room was quiet, and Felix stood a few feet away, unaware that the anesthesia had worn off, speaking casually into his phone with a friend, no hint of guilt or remorse in his tone.

"Felix, you actually made her go through with the termination? Is that kid even yours?" His friend's voice came through the line, loud enough for Celeste to hear clearly.

Felix's reply was lazy and indifferent, as if he was discussing a trivial matter. "I don't know, and I don't care. If I can't be 100% sure it's mine, it's better off gone. Besides, I have Beatrice's baby to look forward to. Plus, if she could get pregnant once, she can do it again. No harm done."

Celeste lay perfectly still with her eyes closed, a cold, bone-deep chill spreading down her spine, freezing her from the inside out.

"Fair enough." His friend laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. "Congratulations, man—living the dream with both women."

Felix let out a quiet, self-satisfied laugh. "I'm taking Beatrice to a Southern coastal retreat for her prenatal care. The weather's warm and sunny there, perfect for the baby. Celeste can stay here and recover. She'll be fine on her own."

Amid his friend's enthusiastic congratulations, Felix ended the call.

Celeste kept her eyes shut, her breathing slow and even, pretending to still be unconscious as she listened to the sound of his leather shoes stopping beside her bed.

Her hand curled into a tight fist beneath the thin hospital blanket, her knuckles white with suppressed rage and grief, as she forced her breathing to stay calm.

After a moment of standing there in silence, Felix clearly grew bored of watching her, turning on his heel and walking out of the room without a second glance.

Once the sound of his footsteps faded completely down the corridor, Celeste's tears finally broke free, sliding silently from the corners of her eyes into her hair.

She wondered, 'Will Felix ever regret it, if he finds out he's forced the termination of his own flesh and blood?'

She had no answer. Felix was a stranger, unrecognizable from the one she'd loved and given up everything for.

By the next day, both patients were discharged from the hospital, one after the other.

In the morning, the privileged occupant of the top-floor VIP suite was escorted to a private jet, heading south to the sunny coastal retreat to wait for her baby.

In the afternoon, Celeste wrapped herself tightly in a heavy wool coat, hiding her pale, broken face from the world, and made her way to the international airport alone.

A plane soared overhead, leaving a thin, wispy contrail across the clear blue sky.

Moments later, a text notification popped up on her phone—a screenshot from a friend, showing Beatrice's latest social media post.

The photo showed a pair of large hands wrapped around a small, delicate feminine one, pressing two sets of handprints into soft, white sand.

The caption: Waiting for you.

Celeste pressed the power button until the phone shut off completely. Without a second thought, she tossed the device straight into a nearby trash can.

She pulled her thin travel blanket tighter around her shoulders as the flight attendants approached and carefully wheeled her onto the plane in a wheelchair.

The end of one life always made space for the start of another.

Celeste knew this was her second chance in life.