HEALING THE SCARS

CHAPTER 29

PENELOPE

It has been six years since I left Pennsylvania for New York, and every day I find myself reflecting on the success of my plan with a profound sense of gratitude. The journey has been challenging, but I am eternally thankful for the way it has unfolded.

Back then, Dylan gave me a mere three days to prepare for the procedure he demanded. He arranged for a top-tier doctor to carry out the abortion. As I focused on the three crucial elements of my plan— a doctor, Mabel, and my brother Andrew— I remember the intensity of the conversations with Mabel.

In one particularly emotional exchange, Mabel's voice trembled with commitment. "Penelope, I'll do anything to support you through this. Even if it means keeping secrets from Joey while he and Dylan rebuild their friendship."

Her determination was a lifeline. "I need you to take Andrew to the airport immediately after Dylan brings him here. I might not have much time, so you'll need to act fast," I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"Don't worry, I'll manage it. And you'll be safe in New York. My mom will look after you until you're back on your feet," she reassures me, though her own anxiety is palpable.

"I can't thank you enough, Mabel. I'm so sorry for involving you in this deception with Joey."

"Don't mention it. I'd do anything for you, Penelope," she replies, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"Now, Dylan will be here soon. Make sure the doctor follows through with the plan. I need him to provide Dylan with the fake evidence and reports. Since we agreed never to see each other again after the procedure, Dylan will never discover the truth."

Mabel's concern is evident as she grips my hand. "Just be careful. You're carrying a child now. Your safety is paramount."

When Dylan arrives to take me to the hospital, his demeanor is unsettling. He keeps glancing at my belly with an intensity that makes me uneasy. I stare out the window, avoiding his gaze. I don't recognize the man who was once my husband— his behavior feels alien as if he's become a stranger.

Suddenly, he lifts the partition between us and the driver and hesitates before speaking. "Can I touch your belly?" His voice is almost tentative, a stark contrast to his usual coldness.

I nod, though my heart pounds. His hand gently grazes my stomach, sending a shiver through me. The moment feels oddly intimate, yet so distant.

"Penelope," he starts, his voice strained, "you have to understand that I cannot have children. I can't be a father. I'm sorry I'm putting you through this."

I grapple with his words, a mix of anger and confusion boiling within me. "Why can't you? You're human, aren't you? It's just a baby. What's so complicated about that?"

He looks away, a pained expression crossing his face. "If I told you, you'd just think I'm pathetic."

His response leaves me speechless. I struggle to understand him. His coldness feels like a chasm between us, making it clear why I needed to start anew.

"Can I be there with you? Hold your hand through this?" he asks, his voice soft but desperate.

The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his conflicting emotions. How can someone be so detached from their own child?

When we reach the hospital, I ask Dylan to leave. I tell him that I can't bear to face him again. He gives me one last look, his eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and coldness. There's a sadness there, a regret that seems genuine yet overshadowed by his relentless detachment. What is he really feeling?