020 | Chapter Twenty - Carrying My Child
—I will take care of things.
Since that day, Xiaoyue's condition has been poor, not only mentally but also physically.
Although she had returned to their bedroom, she still looked utterly dejected towards Diaz. Every night, Xiaoyue's morning sickness would become particularly severe, and the psychological pressure caused her to be unable to sleep or eat. Even in the very early stages of her pregnancy, she had already become incredibly thin.
Seeing her like this, Diaz finally stopped being passive.
"...Wife, Xiaoyue." He carefully knelt in front of her and softly called her name.
He knew that Xiaoyue was averse to his touch, so he could only raise his head and look up at her with a humble posture.
"You're pregnant now, please, eat a little bit, just for the sake of the baby, okay?" He held the food on a tray, his posture completely unlike that of an arrogant underworld godfather, but rather that of a devout believer offering his faith to his goddess.
"If you don't take good care of your health, what if I..." He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as if something was blocking his throat.
If I'm gone... who will take care of you if you're like this?
But he never said those words aloud; he only sighed heavily. Finally, in his usual domineering yet clumsy manner, he expressed what seemed like the most concerned words: "...If something happens to my child, can you take responsibility?"
However, in her current mental state, Xiaoyue didn't notice the difference in the sentence or Diaz's unnatural pause. She just lowered her eyes and looked at the food on the tray.
It's clear that he specially prepared refreshing, sweet and sour flavors, including strawberry jelly and cherry yogurt, which she loved when she was pregnant with Mark, as well as some refreshing sparkling water and perilla plum soup. All of these were carefully designed meals so that she could "take a bite".
But ultimately, the problem isn't with the food at all.
But seeing Diaz's face made her lose her appetite.
Xiaoyue silently turned her head away, no longer looking at the food in Diaz's hand, or at those eyes that made her heart ache... She was the one who was hurt, so why was she making that expression now?
That look in his eyes... seemed to be a sincere plea for forgiveness.
Wasn't he supposed to be a great underworld godfather? Is this the kind of attitude he would show to a useless woman who couldn't even save the man she loved?
Clearly... she was the one who was hurt the most in that incident.
Why is Diaz only now realizing his mistake and trying to get forgiveness in such a humble and clumsy way?
Xiaoyue's heart felt as if it were surrounded by layers of thorns, all to protect the last remaining piece of her heart: the "love" for Diaz that had not yet faded. But at the same time, she also fell into self-loathing for her own powerlessness, which turned into a displaced anger, which she vented on Diaz.
For a long time, Diaz remained kneeling in front of her, motionless.
Finally, Xiaoyue said softly in a hoarse and weak voice, "...Put it aside, I'll eat it later."
Those few words were enough to change Diaz's expression. He propped himself up on his almost numb knees, placed the food on the bedside table, swung his legs, and said happily, "I left it here. Don't force yourself to get out of bed if you're not feeling well. Eat something!"
"I won't bother you. If you need anything, ring the call bell and come right away." He pulled down the call bell by the bedside, making sure it was within Xiaoyue's reach, then wiped his hands and walked towards the door.
Before leaving, he looked at Xiaoyue's gloomy appearance, and his brown eyes finally dimmed a little.
"She hasn't forgiven me yet... This is the ending I wanted, so why does it cause me so much pain?" Diaz gently closed the door, asking himself in frustration.
He could only return to his study, that familiar yet secluded corner, like a wounded beast returning to its den, exposing its wounds and quietly licking them.
On the table sat a limited-edition cigar brought by his subordinate, next to the diffuser Xiaoyue had given him. He held the cigar in his hand, toying with it. Even when he was strictly forbidden from smoking, he had desperately wanted a puff; now that he could smoke openly, he felt no desire for even one...
"This damn woman... she really has me completely under her thumb." He covered his eyes with his large hand, chuckled in a low voice, and rubbed his hair and brows in a disheveled manner, but he couldn't smooth out the small mound between his eyebrows no matter what he did.
The sharp pain in my chest was more unbearable than any wound caused by any weapon.
"What happened with Mary... I really did something wrong," Diaz murmured, a sob escaping his lips if you listened closely. "But she's already in the coffin... what right do I have to ask for her forgiveness?"
He never imagined he would have such a depressing day.
However, as a busy underworld godfather, the affairs of the gang will not stop because of family matters or physical discomfort, nor will the scoundrels outside who intend to harm him and covet his territory.
"What I should do... is pave the way for the child and Xiaoyue, and then his mother can die in peace." He took out his phone, and his previous vulnerable appearance seemed like an illusion, replaced by a sinister and brutal one, as he began to arrange the gang's miscellaneous affairs.
Then, while dealing with his own funeral arrangements, he also arranged lessons for his three children to inherit, and taught Xiaoyue how to protect herself and the children after his passing. All of this took up the entire day.
Just as the setting sun was gradually painting the outside of the window red, Diaz was still lecturing on his affairs when there was a knock on the study door. Standing by the window, he glanced back.
For a fleeting moment, he wished he could see that woman's figure.
But in the end, it was Sion's face that appeared.
"Boss... there's something I need to discuss with you." He saw Diaz on the phone, and instinctively lowered his voice, speaking cautiously.
But upon seeing that the visitor was Saien, Diaz simply turned to the window, waved impatiently, and refused to listen.
On the other hand, there's Xiaoyue upstairs.
She looked at the deliberately prepared meal by the bedside, picked up a strawberry, and took a bite.
The sweet and sour aroma filled her mouth, making Xiaoyue's nose tingle... because of this strawberry, she finally began to feel "hungry".
Those plump cherries, shining like rubies, seemed to have been carefully selected one by one. And the bubbly, clear drink made Diaz's face appear in each bubble, before finally bursting.
...thud.
Snap... Snap—
Large, glistening tears rolled down her burning cheeks as she recalled how Diaz had cared for her every night while she was pregnant with Mark, sacrificing his own sleep to get through it all.
The strawberries gradually decreased, but the tears became increasingly uncontrollable.
Since that day, Xiaoyue has been diagnosed with prenatal depression. Although Diaz never left her side, he dared not get any closer, only providing minimal companionship and remaining within a safe distance of her.
While Xiaoyue wasn't watching, Diaz wrote one suicide note after another, sealing them away in a drawer in his study. Each note detailed how to handle the money he left behind, how to educate his children, and what areas they should never venture into.
Every word he uttered expressed his longing for her and the regret of not being able to be with her until the end...
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