He was never mine.

GEORGE

I ignore Eleanor's glare at the sound of my words. She looked like she could almost not believe her ears. She stood motionless for a while and then nodded subtly before walking out of the room.

Once I hear the door close behind me, I let out a tired sigh as I laid back down on my bed.

What did she expect me to do?

Stand up the second I hear that Gerald's in trouble and act like a father I am not?

Why did she look at me like I was the bad guy here when I'm the fucking victim?!

I loved that kid like he was mine. I thought he was mine. Even when she suspected foul play and warned me many times that Gerald was not my son, I ignored all of it because I wanted them to be lies. I wanted to believe that the offspring I had raised from infancy was actually mine.

He was the only reason why I took all the bullshit I did from Zhara. He was the reason I let Zhara invadey life for as long as she has. He was all the reason I needed to tolerate that demonic woman for as long as I did.

Yet, I discovered that twelve years of my life dedicated to being a better man, a father and a good example for my son was a lie. A monumental waste of my time and life.

He was never mine.

The absolute audacity of all the bastards involved in this! Living under my roof, feeding off my money and having my whole life on the palm of their hands. Yet, it was all a lie.

Talk about a pathetic existence.

I remember my father calling me an abomination and a bastard. The man never loved me and never cared for me. I've known from my childhood that I was not his son.

At least, he had the privilege of knowing before I was born probably. He never showed me an iota of love and still doesn't. He never went through the shit that I'm going through right now and he still hated me.

What do they expect me to do?

I still wanna be the boy's father. I still wanna call him my son and act like all of this never happened. I still want to be able to genuinely smile when I see him and confidently say that my child takes after me.

But I don't know how to.

I can try to pretend but the truth is like a parasite in my mind. It will continue to eat me up alive from the inside. It would continue to spread its venom from within me until it engulfs and overwhelms me and I'm left with nothing but pain and anger.

I fear that at this point, I might become the monster my father has always said I'd become. The very reason why I've worked so hard to prove him wrong.

Fearing that my thoughts might take a strong hold on me, I stroll out of the room to clear my head.

Almost automatically, my steps led me right to Eleanor's room and I subtly peeked in and watched her prepare.

She seemed..... sluggish.

She was doing her best to hurry but it seemed like she was also trying to keep herself from collapsing.

Shaking my head at the sight, I headed over to my room to prepare.

How could I forget that the woman in question is pregnant with twins?

I ignored the pain that was threatening to overwhelm me and the painful memories pulling my sanity apart as I got dressed in a simple outfit. A t-shirt and jeans. I took my painkillers and other meds before heading out to the living room with my car key just as she got there herself.

She stared at me curiously as I approached her.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a subdued tone.

"I'm taking you there," I replied calmly. "You are pregnant and sick. I can't expect my woman to drive all the way to another city in that condition."

I walked ahead of her to the car and opened the door of the passenger seat to let her in.

She moved to enter, but stopped in front of the open door as she stared at me intently. She seemed to have pity in her eyes.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I am," I replied. "Now, get in the car."

She did just that but her eyes followed me until I was in the car as well as watched me as I revved the engine and pulled away from the driveway.

She sent me the location which I inputed in the car's GPS and followed as I drove to the hospital where Gerald was hospitalised.

The drive was long as it was another city and silent since I wasn't in any mood to talk and Eleanor seemed to understand that as she didn't try to start a conversation either.

Or she might just be extremely stressed and tired because she just slept all the way.

I watched her sleep and I could almost feel my mind clear up at how peaceful and beautiful she looked as she slept. Her chest and stomach rose softly up and down as she let out quiet breaths.

I begrudgingly had to wake her up once we reached the hospital and she sprang into action almost immediately.

She hurried out of the car and into the hospital while I hesitated, contemplating if I was making the right decision by coming here.

Finally deciding that leaving her on her own was risky, I got out of the car and hurried after her as best as my aching body could allow.

We reached the reception and we're immediately approached by the police in there as they led us into the hospital, saving us the formalities of introducing ourselves and asking for Gerald's ward.

They led us into the elevator, to the third floor and right to Gerald's room where the detective in charge of the case was waiting.

Eleanor still felt sleepy in the elevator as the activity has died down and wrapped her hands around mine and laid her head on my chest, yawning as we were led to Gerald's room.

"Good day, sir and ma'am," the detective greeted and Eleanor straightened up once again, much to my disappointment. I wanted her to lean on me some more.

"How is he?" Eleanor asked.

"Stable for now," the doctor who came in behind us said as the detective handed me the scan.

I frowned at it.

"Why is there a hole in his head?"

"Well, Gerald was found in an abandoned building after he called us. He seemed to have fallen as we noticed he had a few fractured bones," the detective explained. "And he also had a 17cm rod lodged in his head. Luckily it wasn't that deep in so it didn't damage anything. The skull itself seemed to have taken the brunt of the force. We rushed him to the hospital where the doctor here operated on him."

"The operation was successful and he is in an induced coma right now," the doctor chimed in. "Like earlier stated, there was no damage to his nerves or brain matter, and he was rushed her quickly enough to before too much blood could invade the skull. We were able to just barley save him, but I think he'll be okay. It will take a while to recover though."

"How was he able to call through all of that pain?" I asked the detective.

"I think the adrenaline of finally escaping must have overwhelmed him. The didn't know he had a rod in his head and simply asked us to take him home to his dad before passing out. He seemed very desperate to see you, sir."

I was at a loss for words at the sound of that.

I felt a clash of emotions as I tried to compose myself, but most of all, I felt shame.

I had written him off as my son just because I wasn't his biological father. I forgot the fact that I raised this boy for twelve years and he sees me as his father still.

I knelt beside his bedside as I fought back tears.

"I promise I would be a better father for you, son. No matter what they say, you are still my son."

"By the way," the doctor interrupts. "He lost quite a bit of blood. We've stabilized him but we would need some more blood."

"I don't know if our blood matches as I'm not his father," I replied. "Could we buy the blood? I'll pay anything."

The doctor simply stared at me, dumbfounded at my words.