Secret Mission Turned Out to Be Fathering My Bestie’s Baby Chapter 05

Secret Mission Turned Out to Be Fathering My Bestie’s Baby Chapter 05

Nathan received a package at the hospital.

Inside was a diagnostic report.

[Emma Carter…

Gastric tumor… suspected malignant…]

The words burned.

Another sheet had just two lines, in shaky handwriting pressed so hard the paper had torn.

[Don’t look for me. Let me die in peace.

Because you hate me, and I hate you more.]

Nathan’s hands trembled. His eyes closed. He remembered the blood she’d coughed up. His heart twisted.

“Nathan?”

Patricia Carter-Emma’s mother-came out. “What’s wrong? Ready for discharge?”

Jessica was being discharged today and moved to the birthing center.

Nathan quickly crumpled the paper, hiding it from Patricia.

“Work stuff. I’ll take care of it.”

He buried his churning thoughts, got Jessica and the baby settled at the center, then told her he had

business to handle and left.

He sent Emma dozens of messages. No reply.

He called-disconnected.

He checked three homes. No sign of her.

He booked a flight to her work city immediately.

On the way to the airport, Jessica’s messages kept flooding in. He ignored them.

Patricia called.

“Nathan, are you done yet?”

“You’re not here, and Jessica won’t eat. She can’t stop crying.”

Jessica’s postpartum depression had worsened. She had severe separation anxiety.

Nathan’s head throbbed. His gut burned with anxiety.

“Mom, I have to take a short business trip. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Put Jessica on the phone. Let me talk to her.”

He spent half an hour coaxing Jessica over the phone.

By the time he hung up, his stomach-which had never bothered him before-ached all the way to the airport.

He even threw up during turbulence.

At Emma’s workplace, they told him she’d submitted her resignation the day before. The process wasn’t

complete, and they couldn’t reach her.

Her dorm room belongings were still there.

Her bullet journal sat on the desk.

Jessica’s due date was circled in big red ink.

Today’s date.

Next to it, two tiny words: [Stay safe.]

He flipped to the date on her diagnosis.

That page was blank.

The next day had two lines:

[What do I do.]

[I can’t tell them.]

For two months, she’d carried that fear alone. She hadn’t told a soul.

Nathan’s chest clenched. His stomach churned again.

“Emma, pick up the damn phone!”

He gritted his teeth, rage and anxiety pushing him to the edge.

Silence. Silence. Silence.

He sat on the bed, riding out the pain.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

He jolted, but it wasn’t Emma.

“Nathan, I can’t sleep. My chest feels tight. I can’t breathe. Can you talk to me for a bit?”

Jessica’s pained voice now grated on him rather than moved him.

“I’m busy. I’ll call you later.”

He hung up and ran to the bathroom to throw up again.

He was starting to taste a fraction of what Emma had gone through.