Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 938

Aubree had always been Brielle's rock, the Thelma to her Louise, and yet even her words couldn't sway Brielle's resolve.

With a sigh, Aubree patted her friend's back and handed her a bottle of water. "Here, rinse your mouth."

Brielle's reaction had been severe; she'd been retching until her eyes turned red. After rinsing, she finally managed to straighten up.

Aubree's heart ached at the sight, but she couldn't ignore the fact that Brielle had lost a noticeable amount of weight.

Why was this happening? Aubree had seen other pregnant women before, but Brielle's reaction was by far the most intense and her weight loss the most rapid. Could it be that Brielle's body just wasn't cut out for pregnancy? "Bri, let's have you sit down for a bit," Aubree suggested gently.

She helped Brielle back to the couch where they dove into the future plans of Stellar Stage Entertainment. Brielle even mapped out Aubree's work schedule, lining up movie roles to keep her busy till next year.

But Aubree could see that Brielle was more worried about her and Ricardo than herself. Otherwise, she wouldn't have lost so much weight.

"Have you been skipping meals? You've slimmed down too much," Aubree asked with concern.

Brielle touched her own cheek, unaware of her gaunt appearance. The stress had been eating at her, especially during the first few days after Ramey moved into the villa. Brielle would wake up to the slightest noise, instinctively protecting her belly. The more Brielle tensed up, the harder it became for Max to discuss their child's future. Today, he'd sent Aubree as his emissary.

He was the father, Brielle's partner. There were things Brielle might struggle to tell him, but Aubree was her confidante, her sounding board.

After chatting about Stellar Stage Entertainment and confirming her own plans, Aubree glanced at Brielle's belly.

"Has Max told you his thoughts? Is he leaning towards keeping the baby or not?"

Brielle's lips curved into a faint smile as she looked down at her stomach. "He's come around. He knows how much this baby means to me; he wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

In her eyes, Max was flawless.

Aubree fell silent. As a friend, she supported Brielle, but she couldn't ignore the alarming weight loss or the decline in her spirit. The thought of the ordeal Brielle would face when it was time to deliver was torturous. What if she couldn't make it through?

Aubree bit her lip, suddenly understanding Max's dilemma. As someone who cared deeply for Brielle, seeing her weaken with each passing day was heart-wrenching. Max wasn't indifferent to the child; he simply prioritized a healthy Brielle.

"Bri, have you considered how hard it is for Max to watch you grow weaker every day?" Aubree finally said. "His pain might be even greater than yours."

Brielle's expression tightened, a flash of pain crossing her eyes, as if every bone in her body ached. But what could she do?

"Bri, maybe we should-" Aubree remembered the reason she was there, yet she hesitated to continue.

"No," Brielle interrupted, her pupils contracting as her hand clutched the fabric over her belly tightly. "Aubree, when I thought I'd lost the baby, I cried staring at the stark white ceiling. That pain felt like my heart

е being ripped out. I keep having dreams where I abandon the baby, and it cries so much it pains my chest. And yet, I want this baby so much. Why would I have such dreams? It's like a reminder, or even

a plea from the baby, begging me to keep it."

Aubree knew that pressing the issue would make her the villain. They moved on to other topics and, when she left the grand doors of Premier Palace, she found Max waiting outside.

Leaning against his car, with a cigarette between his fingers and a distant gaze, Max had told Aubree to come and had pretended to have errands, partly because of his sporadic headaches and partly to give Brielle space to talk freely.

Aubree noticed several cigarette butts on the ground, surprised to see Max smoking for the first time. It wasn't until the cigarette burned down to his fingers that he flicked it away.

He hadn't been smoking-he was just waiting for it to burn out, silently contemplating the weight of the situation.