Monica's POV
The bottles of alcohol on the table were quickly emptied, their contents vanishing into the void. I collapsed onto the floor, defeated, my face bruised and swollen, every part of me broken.
Ashton looked down at me with irritation, barely sparing a glance.
For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, but then his cold, detached voice shattered that illusion.
"Carmen, that's enough. Look at her. She's completely lost any of the grace she had before."
Carmen didn't even acknowledge him. Her focus remained on me, savoring every moment of my humiliation.
"Oh, don't worry. I know when to stop. See? Nothing bad has happened. And we haven't even let her eat the celebration cake yet."
Then she picked up a small knife, slicing into the cake with a hollow smile. Afterwards, she held out a piece toward me.
"Here. Take it. This is for you. I'd advise you not to be ungrateful."
Instinctively, I recoiled.
A strange dread prickled at the back of my neck.
"I'm not eating it," I said, my voice strained. "I've had enough to drink already. I can't eat anything right now."
But Carmen's smile only grew sharper.
"Not eating? That's not an option. I said everyone here gets a share today. You don't want it? Too bad. You'll eat it anyway."
Before I could react, she shoved the cake into my face, smearing frosting and crumbs across my skin. I blinked, trying to open my eyes, but the stinging sweetness made it even harder.
The room erupted in laughter.
"Serves you right. You didn't want to eat it? Now you can eat the cake off your face!" Carmen mocked.
Trembling, I reached for a spoon, forcing myself to take a bite.
It tasted like ash in my mouth.
But Carmen wasn't satisfied. Her sugary voice cut through the air like a knife.
"A little bit isn't enough. I want you to eat the whole thing."
I dragged myself forward, chewing slowly, hoping they'd get bored and leave me alone.
Finally, Ashton spoke, his voice dripping with mockery, "It's just cake. Why are you dragging your feet? Hurry up! We've got another gathering to get to. Here's the deal: you stay here and eat. When you're done, you can leave."
As he finished, the others began to rise, gathering their things.
I was about to slip out when the door slammed shut with a final, brutal click.
Fists pounded against the door, sharp and frantic.
"Open up! Someone, please!" I cried, clutching my belly as stabbing pain twisted inside me. "Please! My stomach... it hurts so much!"
I collapsed to the ground, clutching my belly as waves of pain surged through me. Sweat drenched my skin. I pounded on the door repeatedly, but no one responded. The minutes stretched on like hours.
Finally, darkness enveloped me.
...
I woke to the sharp scent of antiseptic filling my nose.
"Doc, how's my baby? Please, my baby!"
The nurse on duty looked down at me with pity in her eyes, her voice weary from repeating the exact words.
"The most important thing is for you to recover," she said. "You'll have another baby someday."
Her words sliced through me like a knife.
I lay there, still and numb, as silent tears slipped down my cheeks.
My soul felt hollow, scraped empty.
It wasn't until I dialed the phone ninety-nine times that Ashton finally picked up.
"Monica, you'd better have a good reason for calling me now, or I won't let this go." His voice was sharp, impatient.
In the background, I heard someone mention a stomach issue, urging him to rest.
I shuddered, the words almost stuck in my throat.
I forced them out as I told him, "Ashton, we lost the baby. It was killed by cup after cup of alcohol. You're one of the murderers."
Dismissing me, he scoffed, "Monica, what nonsense are you talking about? You're drunk, aren't you? Really bored with your life, huh? I don't have time for your nonsense."
Before I could speak again, the line went dead.
When I tried calling back, there was no answer.
Ashton had blocked me.
I stared at the hospital door, feeling consumed by emptiness until two familiar figures appeared in the hallway.
My stomach lurched, and I gasped in shock.
"Ashton? Carmen? What are you two doing here?"
They turned in unison, and when their eyes landed on me, the indifference returned to their faces.
"Ashton," Carmen said sweetly, leaning against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I told you she was stalking you. How else would she have found us so quickly? She's even lying in a hospital bed now. I don't even have a hospital bed."
Her voice trembled as she leaned weakly into his arms.
"Ashton, I know her game. She's pretending. Why else would she come to the hospital alone? Monica, stop humiliating yourself and just go home."
Ashton glanced at me briefly before turning away.
Without a word, he walked off.
The silence between us was deafening.
I stared at his retreating figure, my heart sinking.
Then my phone buzzed again.
My breath caught when I saw the caller ID.
It was my mother.
