Chapter 9
When I saw other disabled people crying with joy because they could run freely again, I was deeply moved. More and more people were rekindling their hope for life with the help of exoskeletons.
I made it onto financial magazines once again. This time, my title wasn’t just “Investment Queen” – I’d also earned “Charity Ambassador.”
—
When Michael appeared in front of me again, I had just finished an interview with national media. He watched me chatting and laughing with reporters, walking with easy steps, his eyes full of
regret.
Michael blocked my path, putting on a tender expression as he said, “Athena, can we talk?”
The reporter tactfully left first, leaving just Michael and me standing face to face.
Michael smiled, his voice as gentle as when he used to coax me two Christmases ago: “Athena, it’s wonderful that you can stand again. I’m truly happy for you. I was wrong before, saying hurtful things to you, I realized my mistake long ago, Can you give me a chance to take care of you again?”
I firmly refused: “No.”
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Michael looked hurt: “Are you still angry with me? I said those things at the hospital because I thought you were cheating. I lost control of my emotions for a moment. But I’ve investigated everything now – you and Charles had never even met before. I misunderstood you. Let me make it up to you properly, okay?”
I refused again: “No need.”
Michael used to be quite handsome, but during this time he couldn’t find work and was constantly criticized, so he looked as haggard as someone with a serious illness.
I used to be fooled by his fake tenderness, but now I just found his performance particularly phony.
Michael stepped closer, deliberately using a low voice: “Athena, I don’t mind that you’re carrying someone else’s child. I’ll raise him as my own. I don’t mind that you’ve been with someone else either. They’ve only seen your brilliant side – only I’ve been with you through the hardest times. I’m the one who truly loves you. Marry me? I’ll spend my whole life being a good husband and good father.”
A voice suddenly interrupted Michael’s performance: “Honey, don’t talk to trash. It’s bad for prenatal care.”
Charles, who had just gone to get the car, returned to see Michael trying to reconcile with me. Furious, he strode quickly
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to my side like a guard dog baring its teeth to protect its owner.
Seeing Charles, Michael’s eyes filled with hostility: “I’m talking to Athena. What right do you have to interrupt?”
I patted Charles’s hand to calm him, then said to Michael: “Of course he has the right. He’s my husband and the father of my child.”
Michael was shocked, almost unable to maintain his composed facade. He asked: “You’re married?”
I said: “Yes.”
Charles lifted his head proudly: “I only needed a two-week trial period before getting promoted to permanent status. We’re legally married.”
Michael looked at me with disappointment: “How could you just get married so casually? That’s so irresponsible to the child. Do you know this violent maniac’s true intentions? Has he seen you at your most vulnerable? When he divorces you later and takes half your assets, you’ll learn how evil people can be.”
I raised my hand to cut off his remaining words: “Michael, don’t judge others by your own standards. I know Charles better than you do. My affairs don’t need your concern, and my assets aren’t for you to covet.”
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Charles smiled smugly: “Get lost before someone takes pictures. That good sister of yours might be looking for story material.”
Michael couldn’t keep up the act anymore, and afraid someone might actually be taking photos, he had to leave.
The day our child was born, I had painless injections and Charles stayed with me throughout to comfort me, so I didn’t find it particularly difficult.
But when I saw that the baby looked remarkably like Charles, I was very puzzled.
I asked Charles: “Have you ever donated sperm?”
Charles lowered his head, not daring to meet my eyes, and said quietly: “My dad said you wanted a child and were planning to select sperm from a sperm bank, so I went to participate in the sperm bank screening.”
I suddenly remembered that when I was looking at donor profiles, one stood out particularly. His height and weight were excellent, he had high intelligence, and held doctoral degrees in both medicine and artificial intelligence mechanics. I had chosen that profile immediately.
I never expected that Charles was actually the biological father of my child.
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Seeing my silence, Charles said pitifully: “Don’t be angry. You just gave birth – being angry is bad for your health. When you have your strength back, you can punish me then.”
I smiled and touched his face, asking: “Why would I be angry? You became my husband through your own abilities, and I chose you to be my child’s father.”
Everything was the perfect arrangement. As the Investment Queen, I had never made a wrong choice.
