Rachel didn’t know what Stephanie had truly gone through.


    Steven lifted me, struggling to control his emotions.


    Being mentally ill, it was a hundred times harder for him to contain his feelings than for an


    ordinary person.


    “Let’s go home,” he whispered softly, carrying me out of the hospital ward.


    Rachel rushed forward, pping Michael hard across the face. She shouted, “You bastard, give me


    Stephie back! Give her back to me!”


    I buried my face in Steven’s chest and cried. At that moment, I didn’t care if Steven was acting or


    not. I just wanted someone to lean on, that was all.


    “Steven, let’s take the subway back, okay?” I rested my head on his shoulder and croaked.


    Steven held me close as we walked. He gently replied, “Alright.”


    I smiled. His acting was impable. How could his emotions be so stable? Was he really mentally


    ill?


    “Steve, I’m not Stephanie Carlson…” I wanted to see how he would react.


    I didn’t want to be Stephanie anymore. It was too painful.


    Steven paused for a moment and looked down at me. “Okay…”


    Since he knew I wasn’t Stephanie, I wondered why he wasn’t getting angry.


    “Didn’t you say you’d kill me if I wasn’t Stephanie?” I asked in a muffled voice.


    He didn’t answer.


    He carried me in his arms as we entered the elevator, and I didn’t bother to walk on my own.


    He continued to defend me even after realizing I wasn’t Stephanie. Was it because he knew I was


    carrying his child?


    This belongs to N?velDrama.Org.


    To me, it was all the same.


    I didn’t expose him and quietly leaned on his shoulder.


    “Why do you want to take the subway?” he whispered softly as we entered the subway station.


    I didn’t exin because he had been carrying me the whole way, and people around us were


    staring and gossiping.


    But Steven remained true to himself. He didn’t concern himself with others‘ perceptions.


    Despite his past struggles with mental illness and wearing clothes that didn’t fit properly, he paid no


    mind to what others thought of him.


    Perhaps it wasn’t rush hour, so the subway wasn’t crowded. I left his embrace and leaned against a


    nearby pole.


    Maybe I had gotten too worked up earlier, and I was feeling a bit lightheaded.


    Like magic, Steven pulled out a lollipop from his pocket and ced it in my mouth before searching


    for a seat.


    Finally, he spotted three vacant seats next to a middle–aged man. But the man was sitting


    comfortably with his legs crossed, upying all three seats.


    A young girl approached him. “Sir, you’re taking up three seats by yourself. Can you give us one?”


    She gestured toward me. “Look, this woman can barely stand.”


    The man snorted. “I sat here first, so these are my seats! Mind your own business. And you, you’re


    dressed so indecently. I guess you aren’t any good either.”


    Without saying a word, Steven led me over and swiftly punched the man on the forehead. Instantly,


    the man copsed to the ground.


    Taken aback by Steven’s brutality, I sat down nervously.


    Steven then gentlemanly gestured to another seat for the young girl to take.


    She sat down, admiring him and his appearance. “Are you a model? You’re so handsome…”


    Meanwhile, the many sprawled on the ground, pretending to be injured. “Call 911! My heart hurts!


    He attacked me, you all saw it! I’m calling the police!”