Chương 21
"Charlie," Babe breathed—and then he was moving.
He ran to him, tears spilling, flung his arms around Charlie's neck and kissed him—forehead, cheeks, jaw—messy, frantic kisses as he choked,
"I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—thank you, God—thank you for bringing him back to me—Charlie, I'm sorry—"
Babe buried himself in Charlie's chest, hugging him tight as if he'd never let go again. But Charlie didn't hug him back.
Charlie set his hands gently on Babe's shoulders and eased him a step away—not rough, not cold, just firm. His eyes dropped at once to the swell beneath Babe's shirt.
The moment he saw the curve, the air shifted. Gold kindled in his irises—soft at first, then bright, unmistakable. Power hummed through the room like a silent chord; the silver tray on the console gave a faint tremor.
Alan, Sonic, and North froze, stunned. Sonic whispered,
"His eyes..." North breathed,
"Enigma." Alan exhaled, a shaky laugh of pure relief.
The secret was no longer a secret—Charlie didn't hide it anymore.
Babe's breath caught. The baby kicked beneath his palm.
Charlie's gaze locked there. The gold deepened, warm and protective, and the room seemed to lean toward him. He lifted his hand and, without touching, hovered it above the bump—reading, feeling.
The hum of his aura focused, and the baby settled, soothed as if recognizing home.
"Papa's here," Charlie murmured to his son, voice rough from long silence.
The hardness in him melted only for that one presence.
Babe, shaking, reached for him again.
Charlie gently took Babe's wrist instead, guided him to the sofa, and helped him sit—careful, precise, attentive to the child, not to Babe's clinging. He didn't meet Babe's pleading gaze.
Alan surged forward and hugged Charlie hard.
"Welcome back, man." Sonic wrapped him next, crying and laughing; North clapped his shoulder and pulled him in.
Charlie softened, gave them a small, real smile. "Thank you."
He did not smile at Babe.
The distance landed like a bruise. Babe felt it—saw it—but chose to ignore it. He scooted closer on the sofa, fingers finding Charlie's sleeve, clinging anyway, eyes never leaving him.
"He kicks when I say your name," Babe whispered, hopeful, desperate.
"Every night."
Charlie's golden eyes slid from Babe to the bump again, the gentlest flick of attention. He didn't answer the man. He answered the child—power quieting, warmth anchoring.
Everyone stared—mesmerized—at Charlie's unveiled Enigma glow, the protective blaze that filled the room. He no longer hid. He no longer needed to.
Babe leaned into him, tears shining, refusing to let go even as the space between their hearts stayed unclosed. Charlie didn't push him away—but he didn't pull him closer, either. His entire gravity was fixed on their son.
The door opened. Thankhun and Jeff stepped in, pausing at the sight of Babe clinging to Charlie.
Thankhun sighed, relief and irritation tangled.
"At least my puppy's awake. But Babe—let him breathe," he snapped.
Babe's head jerked up. The dam broke. He stood, finger shaking as he pointed at Thankhun.
"Charlie, they didn't let me see you! And no one told me you woke up—I had to find out when you walked in! He's been rude to me from the beginning—"
"Don't forget who put Charlie in a coma!" Thankhun barked back, stabbing a finger at Babe.
Babe flinched. The tears came fast—hormones, fear, guilt—all of it.
"I—I'm sorry—I didn't—"
"Oh, look. Drama queen," Thankhun said, dry and cutting.
"Uncle," Jeff warned, stepping in.
"Babe is pregnant. Don't yell. His blood pressure—"
Thankhun threw his hands up, glaring. He turned to leave, then pointed at Babe—crying, red-eyed, furious.
"Charlie, don't get caught in his drama. You need rest. Babe, he needs a stress-free recovery. Stop your theatrics."
He swept out. Jeff lingered a second longer, gave Charlie a small nod, then followed.
Silence thudded back into the room.
Babe stood trembling, eyes glossy, one hand on his bump, the other still clutching Charlie's sleeve.
"I wasn't lying," he said in a small, shaking voice. "They shut me out."
Charlie didn't touch his tears. He guided Babe gently back down, eyes gold and steady as they fell to the curve of their son.
"You need to sit,Calm down" Charlie said softly. Then, without looking at Babe, to the child,
"Papa's here."
Babe sniffled, nodded, and inched closer anyway, choosing to cling. Charlie let him stay—but his warmth was for the baby, not for Babe.
Alan, Sonic, and North exchanged looks—relieved, worried—and stayed quiet as the room settled around the quiet hum of Charlie's Enigma and the soft sound of Babe breathing through the ache.
When Alan, Sonic, and North slipped out, the door clicked softly shut, leaving a hush behind.
They remained on the sofa—close, not close.
Charlie's palm moved in slow, steady circles over the curve of Babe's belly, the warmth of his touch anchored and sure. His eyes stayed on the bump, the gold in them dulled to an ember, protective and focused.
Babe watched him, drinking in the lines of his face, the breath in his chest, the weight of his presence.
A thousand imagined scenes unfurled in his head—Charlie in the kitchen at dawn, their son babbling on the counter; quiet nights with a baby asleep on Charlie's shoulder; family breakfasts, soft laughter. He saw it so clearly his eyes burned.
"I talked to him every night," Babe whispered.
"Told him about you. About us. About the life we could have."
Charlie didn't look up. His thumb traced a gentle arc; the baby rolled, as if answering him.
"He knows me," Charlie murmured, more to their son than to Babe. "Good boy."
Babe swallowed.
"I'll do anything to make this right," he said, voice raw.
"I am sorry for everything I did Charlie..I wont act like that anymore. I just want you both. Lets be together..ok..Lets forget everything and Lets start new ok.."
Babe said with eyes full of hope..hoping for a future together..Forever..
Charlie's hand stilled for a beat, then resumed, as careful as a vow.
"Rest, you need rest " Charlie said softly.
Babe nodded, scooted an inch closer, head tipping against Charlie's shoulder like a question. Charlie didn't pull away; he didn't lean in. His entire gravity stayed bound to the child—steady, protective, unyielding.
Babe closed his eyes and let his breath sync to the rhythm of Charlie's hand. In his mind, the future glowed—fragile, possible.
Beside him, Charlie guarded the present like a fortress, saying nothing, offering nothing more than the quiet promise of his touch over their son.
Night draped the room in quiet silver. Charlie's hand stilled on the curve of Babe's belly, then slipped away. He leaned back, eyes drifting to the window where a scatter of stars hung cold and clear.
On his shoulder, Babe slept—breathing uneven, fingers locked around Charlie's forearm like an anchor he refused to release.
Charlie sighed.
Jeff and Thankhun had told him how Babe had been—obedient, careful, clinging to hope; crying in secret, talking to the baby every night. He heard it all. They told him everything,nothing left out..each argument ..each yelling they had with Babe and He understood it.
But understanding wasn't forgetting.
It wasn't the public humiliation that cut deepest. He had endured Babe's sharp words, the condescension, the careless dismissals, because he believed—naively—that love would come if he just waited, softened himself, became small enough to fit inside Babe's pride.
Charlie had accepted being a quiet tool in Babe's life, hoping one day Babe would see him.
He had chased after Babe even in humiliation, ready to explain that Jeff was his brother.
But the hallway kiss had shattered something permanent.
Charlie had seen it. The other Alpha. The mouth on Babe's. The door closing.
His world collapsed right infront of his eyes..the dreams he had ..the life he planned with Babe..all gone in that hallway the moment Babe's lips touched the other Alpha..
The door has closed..
Babe moved on..
Babe never loved him..
Babe never cared him..
Babe never valued their love..
All gone !
That was the moment the fault line inside him gave way. Not because Babe sinned in public—but because he chose someone else in private.
Because the moment it mattered, Babe didn't reach for Charlie.
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