(Arata)
Karsten tried to speak to again, but I was too heartbroken to listen. Hiding under the quilt, I refused to turn my head in his direction or communicate any further.
But I could hear his pacing in the room and knew he hadn’t left.
How was I even going to tell him?
I wasn’t even sure myself, and knew I had to go to a doctor to confirm first.
If I spoke to him, he would think I tried to trick him and sohow didn’t take the pill he left .
Won used pregnancies to trap rich n, and he would assu I did sothing similar.
I waited for him to leave the room. Once I heard the door click shut, I reached for my phone.
With nervousness and anxiety raining over in abundance, I typed in the search engine to figure out if one could get pregnant even after taking a pill.
The results shocked . Pill taken within 12 hours of unprotected sex reduced the chances of getting pregnant by 97%; there was still a 3% chance of getting pregnant.
And if the pill is taken after 12 hours, then the chances of not getting pregnant get reduced to 89%. That was a whole 11 per cent window, and I fell in that one.
What was the point of these pills, if they didn’t fucking work?
I so wanted to hope that, like those stupid pills, the kits were faulty too, but deep down, I knew I was pregnant.
The real question was, how to confront Karsten with this?
He would certainly deny that the child was his, knowing I had been sleeping with soone else.
This was more ssed up than I could imagine.
Maybe I needed to leave here and return to Angel City. I could no longer take these heartbreaks, and with a child on the way, I couldn’t afford any risks.
I knew I had promised myself that I would unfold all of Karsten’s secrets and find out who my stalker was.
Maybe, one last sweep of his room and closet, so I could get my hands on any clues.
Gathering strength, I finally left the bed and dragged myself to the walk-in closet.
Locking myself in, I extracted the strip wrapped in tissue paper and placed it in my bag.
Closing the zipper, I hid the bag in the closet and turned to his side of the closet.
Sothing, anything to guide . A docunt, or a clue, to let know he was sohow linked to past or present disasters in my life.
I checked his clothes, the pockets of his pants and coats, his drawers, but nothing.
Frustrated, I found myself on the verge of breaking down again when I spotted sothing poking wedged under his shirts and between two shelves.
Like soone had hurriedly tried hiding sothing. Reaching there, I pulled out what seed like a soft black fabric, hidden under the clothes.
But as I extracted the cloth, it unfurled in my hands, revealing that there was a mask inside.
The most hideous mask I had ever seen.
A shriek left , as it dropped from my hands on the floor, and I stepped back in horror.
The mask looked exactly like the one my stalker wore in that video he had sent on Christmas Day.
There was no mistaking it, for I had hardly slept that night.
Now, it mockingly stared back at as if taunting that the truth was right under my nose and I never unravelled it.
There was not a shard of doubt left that Karsten indeed was my torntor and my stalker.
My erratic breathing ca out in tornting pangs as my eyes almost bulged out in horror and shock.
How could he?
No, no, he can’t be. He can’t be the one.
He hired Caysir to protect .
He went above and beyond to keep safe.
So how could he?
My back hit the wall, and I finally crumbled under the truths of Karsten.
The real Karsten Chevalier.
The rage and tornt clawed at my throat and chainsawed my insides.
The cara he used to watch ...
The lies, the stalking, all fingers had always pointed at him, and yet I remained blind.
The hidden room behind that closed door.
Every info my stalker imdiately received about .
My number changed, and yet he contacted , because Karsten got the new number.
Andy even showed the evidence in the form of an audio recording, and yet I refused to believe it.
Giving Karsten every benefit of the doubt.
All that fake care he had shown for now seed like a violation.
All those touches, every smooth talk...the so-called loving actions.
What a phoney and two faced asshole he was.
All that love in my heart turned to ash and dust, as my hand clawed at my chest.
The unbearable pain shot through like being impaled from below, spreading and twisting like a river of shredded glass, racing inside .
My knees hit the floor as I tried not to wail out loudly.
Shaking in disappointnt, anger and self-deprecation, I let the sickening realisation hit and settle within my gut.
Karsten Chevalier was a sick man, morally and ntally. And I was most likely pregnant with his child.
The truth wove within like a knot of the death noose.
Not a fraction of doubt was left in my heart now. The truth was all in the open to see.
What was with this obsession with ?
What had I ever done wrong?
The knot tightened within , the blinding truth ripped apart as torrents of tears fell through my eyes.
Dragging myself closer, I picked up the mask to take a closer look. I needed evidence, and this was enough. I would take pictures and place it back where I had found it.
My eyes scanned the floor and the black cloth it had been wrapped in.
Rage burned until there was nothing left but like a certain soone had said.
’I was a Phoenix and it was ti to rise from the ashes and show him what I could do.’
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