Chapter 79: His Child

Chapter 79: His Child Jamal stared at Abigail as she seemed to struggle with what she had to say. From the look on her face and in her eyes he could tell she was hiding something, and he couldn’t help but wonder why she was still hesitating to say anything to him despite all the information they’d shared already. What could she be hesitating to tell about? "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He asked, and Abigail let out a deep sigh. "It’s not that I can’t tell you. It’s just... I don’t know how to say it," she said, rising from her seat. Jamal’s brows pulled together, "How have you been saying everything else we’ve been talking about?" he asked. Then, tilting his head, he suggested, "How about you sign it to me then, if you can’t say it?" A small, awkward laugh left her lips. "Signing is the same as saying it too," she pointed out. Jamal exhaled as he rose and went to stand in front of her. "Dawn, there’s nothing you’re going to tell me right now that’s going to change how I feel about you..." Abigail shook her head before he could finish. "It’s not about how you feel about me. That’s not what I’m worried about," she said, and his brows pulled together. "What then are you worried about?" He asked, placing both hands gently on her shoulders to prevent her from turning away. She hesitated, then whispered, "Your reaction I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not ready to talk about it," she said without meeting his gaze. "Did Ryan do something to you? Did something happen?" Jamal asked, and when her eyes darted away, he paused when it occurred to him that he was asking the wrong question. Jamal’s pulse quickened as something clicked in his mind, a memory surfacing like a slow-moving storm, but then he shook his head, telling himself that couldn’t be it. He remembered his conversation with Tom five years ago, and how Tom had pointed out the fact that he had not been careful enough with her. He remembered how he had done all he could to find her five years ago until she supposedly asked Mari to tell him to stop searching for her. Only then had he released and felt relieved that what he feared had not happened. But seeing how she was reluctant to talk now, and how she had said she couldn’t leave yet or tell him why she had to stay, he tried to put the pieces together. She was withdrawn from school within six weeks after they met five years ago. And then she was sent out of the country. It couldn’t have been just because of the drawing he put out. If that was the case then she would have just had the surgery and remained within the country. His breath caught when a new thought slammed into him. The child. That little voice he had heard earlier when he was on the phone with Ryan. No. No, it couldn’t be. Yet his mind raced, calculating. Five years. The timing. He made the calculation in his head and tried to remember the time he had seen the news of Ryan’s supposed son. Jamal went completely still. No. No. He didn’t want to believe he had put her through all of that despite all she had to deal with already. Abigail must have sensed it because she lifted her gaze to his and he shook his head. His voice came out too calm, too steady for the storm brewing inside him. "It’s not what I’m thinking, is it?" Abigail swallowed hard. "What are you thinking?" Jamal felt his whole body tense. The words fought to stay trapped inside him, but he forced them out. "Did..." He struggled, his pulse pounding. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear her say it. "Did I get you pregnant?" He asked, holding her gaze. Abigail blinked, surprised that he had figured it out so easily. There was no reason to deny it, she thought as she let out a breath. "When you say it that way, it’s like you did all the work..." "Dawn," Jamal cut her off, not wanting her to make light of the situation at that moment. Her expression softened. She exhaled, then nodded. "Yeah. We got me pregnant," she admitted quietly. Jamal’s hands fell from her shoulders. He turned away, his mind spinning. His heart slammed against his ribs, but the rest of him was numb. He had a child. Dawn had a child for him. And he hadn’t known. For five years. Jamal’s breath came in short, sharp bursts. His hands clenched at his sides as a thousand thoughts crashed through his mind. Five whole years. His child. No, their child, had been out here without him. Dawn had been here going through God knows what without him while he had been out there living with absolutely no idea. His chest ached like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed. His throat burned. His eyes stung. He pressed his palm against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut as a shudder ran through him. "Jamal—" Abigail’s soft voice barely reached him. He shook his head, stepping away. "No," he whispered, but it wasn’t to her. It was to himself, to the crushing weight settling over him. He should have known. He should have looked harder. He shouldn’t have given up so easily when Mari relayed the message to him. He should have insisted on seeing her and let her turn him away in person five years ago. Jamal’s hands trembled, and he curled them into fists. "I was careless. I put you through this," he said, his voice rough, uneven. His chest rose and fell as he turned to face her. "I did this to you. I left you to handle this alone," he said, his voice breaking. "You— God, Dawn. You were just—" He let out a choked laugh, but there was no humor in it. "You were just eighteen. You were just barely figuring out your own life, and then I—" Abigail’s brows pulled together. "Jamal—" His throat tightened. His head dropped forward as a sob tore from him.