Celeste rushed forward, trying desperately to pull us apart.
In the turmoil, I pushed her away without realizing how forcefully I was pushing.
She slammed into the floor.
Almost immediately, blood began to spread beneath her.
She miscarried.
At the hospital, my mother sat wiping away her tears again and again. My father stood nearby, his face dark with anger.
Finally, he spoke, his voice heavy with reprimand. “Nathan, you were too impulsive. No matter how furious you were, you should never have laid a hand on a pregnant woman.”
I looked at them and felt only a bitter sense of absurdity. “She was carrying Philip’s child, a bastard with no blood ties to our family. And you still want it?”
“Enough!” my father roared.
His cane came down hard against my calf.
My legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees.
His chest heaved as he pointed the cane at me. “You animal, listen carefully!”
Then, my father explained, “Philip’s father was my brother-in-arms. We exchanged our lives on the battlefield. He took a bullet for me. Before he died, he entrusted me with one thing, and it's taking care of his only son.”