Chapter 5

"If you hadn't thrown such a fit tonight, Chloe wouldn't have burned herself and ended up in the hospital! Take a good, hard look at yourself and your attitude!"

Ignoring me as I curled on the floor, convulsing in pain, Christian took Chloe’s hand with tender devotion.

"Don't worry, Chloe. I won't let anyone treat you unfairly."

From the bed, Chloe looked down at me, tears sparkling on her eyelashes.

"I'm so sorry, Christian... it's all my fault. You two are fighting because of me. I always seem to make Valerie angry. Maybe I should just disappear... I won't bother you ever again."

Christian’s eyes flared with protective fury. He looked down at me, his gaze venomous.

"Valerie. Apologize to her. I'm not saying it again."

I remained curled in a tight ball, both arms wrapped desperately around my stomach, my entire body shaking violently. I didn't even have the strength to lift my head.

Pain tore my vision into blinding black static. Cold sweat drenched my hair and clothes, pooling beneath me on the icy floor.

Seeing me motionless with my head down, Christian assumed I was simply giving him the silent treatment. Enraged, he stepped forward and kicked me hard in the hip and thigh.

A muffled groan tore from my throat. My vision blacked out entirely, pushing me to the brink of unconsciousness.

Christian scowled in disgust.

"Stop faking it for sympathy! I barely tapped you. Besides, I kicked your leg, not your stomach!"

"If you won't apologize with words, you can feel the same pain Chloe felt. Maybe then you'll realize how twisted you are."

Dropping those vile words, he scooped Chloe up bridal-style and placed her into a transport wheelchair.

"I'm taking Chloe down for scans. Call your own cab home. I don't have time to baby you."

Without casting a single backward glance, he wheeled her out and walked away.

I lay abandoned on the freezing floor. My womb felt like it was being scorched by an open flame, the pain ripping through my insides until my consciousness began to drift into darkness.

It wasn't until an hour later, during routine rounds, that a floor doctor discovered me.

"Ma'am?! Can you hear me?!"

The doctor rushed over, attempting to lift me, but her gloved hand immediately came away soaked in dark, heavy blood.

She gasped in horror and shouted down the hallway for an emergency crash cart.

As I was lifted onto the gurney, the ceiling lights blurred into streaks of blinding white. The medical team ran alongside me, calling out urgently:

"Stay with us! Keep your eyes open! Don't fall asleep!"

"Why were you on the floor alone?! Where is your husband?! Your condition is critical—the baby is in severe distress, we might not be able to save it! What's your husband's phone number?! I need to call him!"

Hearing the words *might not be able to save it*, my mind snapped into sharp, agonizing clarity.

Tears spilled uncontrollably from the corners of my eyes.

Even though I had already resolved to terminate the pregnancy, facing the reality of losing this life tore a massive, bleeding void inside my soul. The grief was so overwhelming I couldn't breathe.

This child had lived inside me for seven months. We had shared the same heartbeat, the same blood.

How could I not mourn?

Yet, there was no other choice. Before I could ever be a mother, I had to save myself first.

Continuing this nightmare with Christian would only drag me into an inescapable abyss.

With trembling fingers, I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the crumpled termination consent form—the one bearing only my signature. Earlier, I had agonized over how to force Christian to sign it.

Now, none of that mattered anymore.

"I don't have a husband," I whispered.

I pushed the paper into the doctor's hands. A violent contraction ripped through my abdomen, as if my body were tearing itself apart from the inside out. I grabbed a fistful of the doctor's white coat with whatever strength I had left.

"Please... call Dr. Nina... from OB-GYN..."

With those final words, darkness swallowed me whole.