His Genes, His Doom

I stood outside Y Hotel's revolving door, my palms white with tension. My six-month pregnant belly protruded slightly, and even through the loose dress, I could still feel the little one's occasional kicks. After five months, I finally found Cameron Jones. When the front desk clerk dialed the penthouse suite, my heart raced as if it would burst from my chest. "Is this Mr. Cameron Jones? Ms. Jessica Scott has come to see you." There was a silence over the phone for a few seconds, then the familiar yet cold and distant voice came: "Not seeing anyone." I stopped the front desk clerk from hanging up, my voice trembling faintly but firm: "Tell him I'm carrying his child." When the suite door slid open, Cameron Jones was dressed in a black silk robe, impatience written all over his face. "Jessica Scott, what are you bothering me about this time?" He stepped aside to let me in, his tone utterly devoid of any warmth, as if we hadn't been apart for so long. On the living room coffee table lay a woman's lipstick and perfume—luxury brands I had never used. "Cameron, I've been looking for you for five months." I caressed my belly. "The baby is almost six months along; you should know that." He scoffed, walked to the bar, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Jessica Scott, don't flatter yourself. Aren't you clear about who this child belongs to?" My blood froze instantly: "What did you say?" "I said this child has nothing to do with me." He threw his head back and drained his glass, his gaze icy cold. "I told you five months ago, we're over." "Over?" I looked at him in disbelief. "The night before you disappeared, you held me and promised we'd get married!" "That was a lie to fool you." He set down his glass and stepped closer, looking down at my belly with disdain. "Jessica Scott, face reality. I would never marry you, let alone acknowledge this child whose origin I don't even know." A sharp pain stabbed through my abdomen. I gripped the sofa armrest to steady myself. "Cameron, how can you be so heartless?" "Heartless?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with contempt, "If I hadn't seen some use in you back then, do you think I'd have stayed with you? Now that I'm about to get engaged, don't come and be a nuisance." I staggered back a step, tears finally falling: "Useful? Our three years together—was that all I was to you?" He didn't say another word, turning away and heading toward the bedroom: "Here's one hundred thousand. Abort the baby, and never appear in front of me again." "I don't want your money!" I shouted after his retreating back, "Cameron Jones, you'll regret this!" His footsteps faltered slightly; without looking back, he said, "I, Cameron Jones, will never have regrets in my life." As I stepped out of the hotel, a light rain began to fall. I wandered aimlessly down the street when my phone suddenly rang—it was the hospital calling. "Ms. Scott, your prenatal genetic test results are ready." The doctor's voice was heavy with concern, "The child has a rare hereditary genetic disease. Currently, the only treatment plan is a combination of bone marrow matching from the father and gene-editing technology." My hand holding the phone trembled uncontrollably. "What did you say? Is there any other option?" "No, this disease is extremely rare. Only genetic fragments from direct relatives can neutralize it." The doctor sighed, "Contact the child's father as soon as possible. The earlier the treatment, the higher the chance of success." After hanging up, I crouched by the roadside, sobbing uncontrollably. The rain soaked my hair and clothes, cold and piercing, yet nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I can't lose this child. I returned to Y Hotel once again, hiding behind a pillar in the underground garage, waiting for Cameron Jones to come out so I could talk to him properly. Before long, a black car pulled up at the garage entrance, and Cameron Jones stepped out with an exquisitely dressed woman. She is the heiress of the Lynn Group, Whitney Lynn. "Cameron, are you absolutely sure that Jessica won't come back to trouble us again?" Whitney hooked her arm through his, her voice soft and teasing. Cameron pulled her close at the waist, his tone so gentle it could drip warmth—completely unlike how he had spoken to me moments before: "Don't worry, I've made everything clear with her and gave her money to terminate the pregnancy." "What if she refuses?" Whitney looked slightly worried. "I heard she's carrying a boy. If she shows up later, it could ruin our engagement." "She doesn't dare." Cameron Jones' voice was cold and ruthless, "I've already made the arrangements. If she's sensible, disappearing with the money is best. If she isn't, I have plenty of ways to make her comply." "The child's illness..." Whitney Lynn hesitated before speaking. "What illness?" Cameron cut her off, "I don't care what illness it is. It's none of my business. I definitely won't acknowledge the child." My whole body went ice cold, as if I had fallen into a pit of freezing darkness. So, he knew everything all along. He knew the child was sick, knew only he could save them, yet still chose betrayal and deceit. I slowly stood up, wiping the tears from my face. The last flicker of hope in my heart was completely extinguished. When I returned to the hospital, I stared at the blurry outline of the child on the ultrasound report, tears streaming down my face once again. "Baby, I'm sorry." I caressed my belly, my voice choked: "Mom tried her best, but it was Dad who didn't want us." The nurse entered holding the consent form for the induced abortion: "Ms. Scott, have you made up your mind?" I took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and signed my name on the form. "I've made up my mind." From now on, I will completely let go of Cameron Jones and all the pain he brought with him.