Try Begging - Chapter 173.2
The baby, with wide eyes, seemed to wonder why Grace was crying and awkwardly touched her cheek with tiny hands. It felt more like a gentle slap than a comforting gesture due to the lack of control.
“No, sweetheart. Mommy’s okay.”
She patted the baby and glanced at the staff member with a sympathetic expression. The look of discomfort on the woman’s face had already shifted to one of understanding. She was nearly there.
“After fighting in the boarding house all night and leaving, I came here early to get our daughter registered… huh…”
“What a shame. On such a cold day…”
The woman reached over the counter and patted the baby’s thick diapered bottom as if feeling sorry for her.
“Well… I can register your marriage here, but you need to bring your husband…”
“That man probably drank all night and is snoring away right now.”
Wiping away fake tears with her sleeve, Grace suddenly pretended to have an idea and rummaged through her handbag.
“What if I have my husband’s ID? Could that work?”
It was more than enough.
The employee, convinced by her act, handed her a marriage registration form along with a fountain pen.
Grace filled out the bride and groom’s information, then returned the form along with two IDs. The bride’s was a fake identity she would use for her planned departure, while the groom’s had originally been meant for her when she intended to leave the country as well.
At first, she had planned to travel disguised as a man, but now that she had decided to take the baby with her, she had to abandon that idea. Traveling alone with a baby as a man would surely raise suspicions.
As she nervously brushed her short hair beneath her hat, she managed a faint smile.
Marrying herself.
She smiled at the baby sitting in the stroller, who was curiously exploring the corners of this unfamiliar place with wide eyes, and silently made a promise to herself:
I’ll be both your mom and dad.
Grace’s skills were still sharp. The ID looked convincing enough that the staff member didn’t suspect a thing as she stamped the marriage certificate. She made sure to cross out the bride’s name and change the surname to match the husband’s before placing the certificate and both IDs on the counter.
Next, it was time to complete the birth registration.
As Grace filled out the form, she hesitated at the topmost box and looked up to ask the staff member a question.
“What’s the most common name these days?”
“Elizabeth.”
“Ah…”
That was the name of the princess, who had been born two months before Grace’s daughter earlier this year.
“Let’s avoid that one. It’s so common that if you shout ‘Elizabeth’ at the daycare in four or five years, at least twenty kids will turn around.”
Grace nodded and filled in the last blank without hesitation.
“….”
The staff member raised an eyebrow in disbelief as she read the completed form.
“…Elizabeth.”
Her expression looked like she couldn’t understand why Grace would give her only daughter such a common name.
Well, it is common.
Of course, Grace wanted to give her daughter a beautiful and unique name. But right now, and likely in the New World as well, both of them would be fleeing from that man. Grace was used to changing her name, but the child wouldn’t be.
A frequently changing name would only confuse her, so she chose the most common name deliberately.
And she certainly didn’t want her daughter to live a life with multiple names like her own.
“Hmm, if that’s what the mother wants…”
As Grace watched the staff member issue the birth certificate, she suddenly had a realization that made her chuckle.
‘…Elizabeth? That’s the name of that man’s mother!’
She hadn’t considered that before.
Not being fond of Mrs. Winston, Grace’s frown quickly turned into a smile.
Thinking it over, it was a clever tactic. That man would never believe she would name their child after his own mother.
“Here you go.”
The staff member beamed, pleased with her work, as she handed over the papers.
As Grace accepted the birth certificate and read it, a wave of guilt washed over her. She had gone through the effort of registering the birth to fulfill her neglected duties as a mother, yet everything—the name, the surname—had been chosen solely to make fleeing easier.
She had even falsified the birthdate, as she had informed that man from the letter. To make matters worse, she moved it two months earlier to avoid detection.
She already felt like a terrible mother.
‘No, it’s that man who’s the terrible father.’
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