Chugging bourbon down his throat, Alvin felt the burn in his throat, forcing himself to stay calm and think from the beginning.
Five years ago, he used to be envious of Anya who had loving parents, she was doing her work without the headache of putting up a front for others, a small dream, and working towards it. She didn't try to be what she wasn't when everyone was trying to be something they weren't.
His enviousness turned into curiosity and slowly changed to longing as he spent time with her. The peace of mind, easiness when being with her, sitting with her with no pretensions, and her attention to his small things like food and drinks were something he looked forward to every day.
However, he had no intention of disrupting her life with his messy life. He would have never touched her inappropriately with any kind of intention while being in his senses.
Thus the only questionable situation was when he was drugged. He undoubtedly believed Flora when she had said they shared an intimate night.
But the one who slept with him was Anya. There were numerous questions he wanted the response to.
Was she in the karaoke bar?
How did she find me?
Why didn't she take me to the hospital?
Why did she leave me behind with that woman?
Why didn't she tell me it was her?
Why didn't she trust me? This was what disturbed him the most.
He wouldn't have doubted her if she had told him, it was her but Flora. If not then, she could have told him when she got pregnant.
She was somebody he believed. Even if the whole world would have called her a gold digger or labeled her with different names, he would have trusted her, supported her, and taken care of her.
Was he such a worthless man in her eyes?
The questions were innumerable which annoyed him. He didn't care what the world thought of him but her opinion, her validation had become his necessity without his knowledge.
But when he thought of his chubby innocent Anya, his body turned cold as ice. He was drugged and Anya wasn't the type of girl who went to the clubs or got physical with anybody.
Then what did he do to her that night?
Imagining what a drugged man could do to a helpless lady, a cold ran down his spine.
Did he force her? He felt suffocated just by thinking of it.
He clutched the rock glass tight, discerning Anya had the fear of intimacy because of him. He was the root cause of her problems.
Krystle hates him and Flora, and Anya gets upset at the sight of Flora. Did Anya run away from him because of what he did?
Did Flora hurt her?
Alvin's head started throbbing with the innumerable questions, probing him to drink glass after glass.
He recalled Anya's past when she briefed him. His back stiffened. The terrible night, followed by pregnancy, threats, depression, responsibilities, and struggles, she had been through every single thing because of him.
'A Bastard having a Bastard.' Gianna's words echoed in his mind. He couldn't believe Gianna was aware of Zane's identity the whole time. She had waited for years to mock him.
"Gianna." He swung his hand and smashed the bourbon bottle to the floor.
Gianna didn't only target Anya but also the baby because he was the father of it. Zane was in danger all along yet, Anya never approached him. She wanted to stay away from him when he approached her.
He chugged the bourbon from the glass and slammed it on the table. He couldn't believe she never thought of looking for him even once all these years.
He couldn't believe she was trying to hide her identity in the beginning because she was afraid of him taking Zane away.
It suffocated him to accept that she never trusted him even once. Just once.
He left the study room to go to his bedroom which was brightly lit. He saw Anya curled up on the couch and dozed off while waiting for him.
Seeing her shiver, he instinctively grabbed the comforter from the bed and covered her. Then he stood staring at her with more questions swirling in his mind.
She didn't trust him in the past, she was scared because of threats and ran away. Fine, what about now?
Was he still unreliable for her to share the truth?
Was she fearing that he would take Zane away from her?
Was she planning to keep him in the dark forever?
What does he have to do to win her trust?
Does he even have any value in her life?
Unable to stay in the same room as her, he left his bedroom. He wasn't sure how long he was drinking, he was knocked out on the armchair.
—–––––––
Early in the morning, Anya jolted awake and groaned holding her neck. Looking at the comforter, her eyes instinctively looked at the bed where Alvin wasn't there.
She rushed out and found him in the study. A bottle was on the floor, and a bottle was broken and stained the carpet. Her eyes settled on Alvin who was sleeping on the armchair.
If he had returned to the bedroom and put the blanket over her, why didn't he sleep in the bedroom?
She didn't expect him to be so affected by her reaction to the villa. It made her more guilty.
After cleaning the study room, she tried to wake him up, "Alvin…" Cupping his face, her thumb gently caressed his cheek looking at the dark circles. "Alvin… What time did you sleep?" She mumbled the question.
Adjusting her mood, she tried again with a louder and clear voice, "Alvin… Wake up, sleep in the bedroom. Alvin…"
Alvin hazily opened his eyes. He was hardly able to focus on her words. He stood up when she tugged him and followed her to the bedroom.
He just knew she was saying something but his thoughts slowly drifted to the DNA reports, his hand itched to shrug her and get away from her but he controlled.
Anya heard no response to any of her questions. This was the second time she made him upset yet she didn't know how to coax him, making her feel pathetic.
Alvin laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, losing sleep. His heart weighed thinking she didn't trust him in the past or present. It also made him annoyed.
His attention shifted when Anya covered him with the comforter. She flashed a sweet smile going closer to him, "Sleep more."
She went to the bathroom and returned with a damp towel. She carefully took care of him as if he was a child and that is how she knows to look after somebody.
Her cold fingers brushed over his cheek as she said, "Sleep."
But as soon as she tried to move away, he caught her hand. Despite everything, he wasn't ready to let go of her. Even if he had dine something unforgivable, even if she hates him, he wouldn't let her go.
He hurt her and she doesn't trust him. Probably that's how they have to live.
His fate was no different from his father's.
His son's fate was also similar to his. Both of them were born out of wedlock and looked down upon by others.
He was glad about one thing, his son got a mother who cherished him more than her life.
Whereas he didn't matter to anybody.
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