CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Deadpanned, my mouth opens and closes without any sounds come out. Two days ago, the possibility of having Yunho’s baby was truly a joy, but now, after all of this, I’m not sure what I feel. In fact, all I feel is numbness. I’m opted to scream at him like a banshee for manipulating me, but then Kibum is dozing upstairs. No matter how much I despise his father at the moment, my heart still loves the boy dearly. Crying isn’t the best option. It makes me look upset, defeated. I’m not going to lose.

However, Yunho is right. I could be pregnant. But counting the days, the possibility will hardly valid until at least the next fourteen days. Fine, I’ll opt for the wait.

Collecting my courage, I meet his eyes. “You can’t be sure of that. It is only a day after the .” His eyes narrow dangerously. I stand on my ground. “You are right about the possibility and I won’t deny you if it’s true. However, I suggest that we both wait. We need time to figure it out what we would do next if –“ I swallow hardly. “ – I really pregnant with your baby.”

My head spins around about the possibility of pregnancy. Holy God! Please don’t let it happen. If I’m going to marry Yunho, it wouldn’t be because of obligation.

“We should marry if you’re pregnant.” He insists. “That’s unquestionable. I won’t have my baby fatherless.”

The words, adding his earnest expression, bring bittersweet feeling inside me. In spite of the riot feelings, I feel calmed slightly. Yunho will make a wonderful father. Hell! He is a wonderful father. In the edge of losing my sanity, I force my brain to function again. Oh, about the social worker.

“What time they will come? Should I prepare dinner?”

Yunho’s eyes widen, and then he blinks. His lips open but no sounds come out.

“I’m doing this for the boy.”

His mouth is closed. His dark eyes are glaring at me. “You suggesting about charade?”

I glare back at him. “I’ve gone this far. Why can’t you just be grateful that I chose to stay?”

Might as well I stab him in the chest over and over again. His eyes, as dark as the night, are flashed with hurt briefly. I tamp down the annoying guilt that gnaws at my heart. Hey, I’m hurt too.   

“What should I wear? What kind of image you want me to present?”

He openly flinches at my attack. Then he mutters string of curses that would put sailor in shame. I have no time to prepare myself as he jolts from the couch, grabbing me by my arms and slamming my body into his. His mouth is hot but demanding, ruthless but passionate as he takes possession of mine and robbing me out my sanity. And I hate myself for loving him too much that I can’t do anything other than giving myself. Take me. Destroy me. Fix me.

“Dammit! I. Love. You!” Yunho, half groaning – half growling, punctuates each words with devastating kiss. “I burn for you. I hurt for you.”

That is when my last resolve scattered in the floor. There, he has said it, the very three-words I want to hear so much. But is it too late? Why can’t I feel anything other than pain? I tighten my hold on him, somehow afraid that he will be taken away from me. I kiss him with my heart in my throat. Hot liquids leak down my cheeks.

“And I love you too Yunho. Sometime it blinds me.”

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Our episode of anger and drama earlier was stopped by Kibum. The boy went downstairs, probably disturbed by my half yelling and half hissing tirade, after his short nap in search of me. Poor baby.  He looked ready to cry when he found us. Then without any care in the world, h