Chapter 7

Sophia Bennett POV

A sudden gale rose outside the window, and a rare storm poured down.

I held my stomach, cold sweat soaking the clothes on my back.

The sinking pain in my abdomen grew more and more intense, as if something was being forcibly torn away from my body.

I struggled to get up, found my phone, and called Ethan Whitmore.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered, and the noisy background sounds of the hospital came through from the other end.

“What now?” Ethan’s voice carried extreme impatience and exhaustion.

“Ethan… my stomach hurts so much…” My voice was so weak it could barely be heard, with a desperate sob in it. “I’m bleeding… please, come back and save me…”

The other end of the line was silent for two seconds.

Immediately after, Vanessa’s weak voice came through. “Ethan, is Sophia angry with me again? Go back and stay with her. I can wait outside the emergency room by myself…”

“Don’t talk nonsense. I’m not going anywhere.” After comforting Vanessa, Ethan gave a cold laugh into the phone.

“Sophia, this pathetic act of yours is terrible. I didn’t use any force when I pushed you just now, so who are you pretending to bleed for?”

“I’m not pretending… I really am pregnant…” I curled up on the floor in pain, blood winding down my thighs and staining the white wool carpet red.

“Enough!” Ethan snapped harshly. “Vanessa is undergoing heart monitoring right now, and her life could be in danger at any moment. Can you stop your tricks for attention and act like a decent human being?”

Beep—beep—beep—

The call was mercilessly hung up.

I gripped the phone tightly, listened to the cold busy tone, and the last trace of warmth in my heart went out completely.

I did not call again.

I used the last of my strength and dialed the hospital emergency line.

The ambulance struggled forward through the storm, and by the time I arrived at the hospital, I had already fallen into a semi-coma from losing too much blood.

Inside the cold operating room, the glaring surgical lights shone on my face.

“The patient has a threatened miscarriage, plus extreme emotional distress and an external impact. The fetus can’t be saved. Prepare for a D&C immediately!”

Cold instruments entered my body, but that tearing pain was not even one ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart.

The next morning after the surgery, I lay alone in the pale hospital room.

No family, no company.

During rounds, the doctor looked at my bloodless face and could not help sighing. “Ms. Bennett, this has caused serious damage to your fertility. It may be difficult for you to conceive in the future. Where is your husband? Why hasn’t he come to stay with you?”

“He’s dead.” I looked at the ceiling, my voice hollow without the slightest rise or fall.

The doctor froze for a moment and tactfully did not ask any more questions.

I took out my phone, and the screen showed a breaking news notification.

Whitmore Group CEO Appears at Hospital Late at Night, Stays by Childhood Sweetheart’s Side, Suspected Wedding Bells Soon.

The attached photo showed Ethan Whitmore sitting in front of the hospital bed, tightly holding Vanessa’s hand, his gaze so gentle it seemed it could drip water.

I looked at that photo quietly and did not shed a single tear.

Something inside my heart had died.

When all expectations were crushed into mud, what remained was only bone-deep calm.

I pressed the lock screen button and tossed the phone aside.

Ethan Whitmore, between us, it was completely over.