When I woke again, it was white ceilings, soft beeping machines, and the sharp smell of disinfectant. My body felt heavy, like it didn’t belong to me anymore.
I turned my head.
Vincent was sitting nearby, watching me in silence.
“My baby…” My voice cracked immediately. “Where is my baby?”
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped instead.
That was enough.
A doctor came in moments later, clipboard in hand, face tight with pity that made my chest tighten even more.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Grant,” she said gently. “There was severe internal bleeding. The pregnancy couldn’t be saved.”
The room tilted.
“And…” she hesitated, softer now, “the damage is significant. It may not be possible for you to conceive in the future.”
Silence swallowed everything.
It felt like something was being pulled out of me—something I could never get back.
Tears slid silently into my hair as I stared at the ceiling, completely hollowed out.
Vincent stood up, his voice low but sharp. “He’s going to regret this.”
A laugh escaped me—but it sounded broken, wrong.
“He already destroyed everything.”
Vincent stepped closer. “Then don’t stay broken. Take it back.”
I turned my head slowly, eyes burning. “Why would you help me?”