It was as if the world around me spun in dizzying circles.
I still clutched the note he left on the bedside when I woke up.
[I need to handle an urgent matter at the company first. Call me when the baby wakes up. Dinner is in the kitchen. Be good.]
I dialed his number, but he was too busy with Breanna to answer.
As the pain intensified, threatening to pull me under, I grabbed the doctor's hand, my grip desperate.
“I want a partial anesthesia abortion... I want to say goodbye to the baby... just one last time.”
...
When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a hospital room.
Thorian was sitting by my side, his hand wrapped gently around mine, his eyes closed as he rested.
When I stirred, he jolted awake, his gaze heavy with sorrow and worry.
“Farah, why didn’t you tell me about the premature birth? If I hadn’t been here... I wouldn’t have even known the baby had been born…”
His words cracked through me, pulling the memories of the C-section and the abortion back to the surface.
Images flooded my mind: the baby, full-term, struggling under the weight of the medication, its tiny body still and lifeless.
It felt like a nightmare, slowly squeezing the air from my lungs.
Tears slid down my face in silence, my throat burning as I fought to hold back the sobs.
“…Where’s the baby?”
“In the observation room.”
The doctor had said that, although the baby was too far along, there was still a slim chance it could survive the abortion, but not for long.
It felt like a sharp blade was driven straight into my heart.
I clenched my fist, willing myself not to break, not to cry in front of him.
But Thorian didn’t leave my side, constantly changing my bandages and tending to me like a caring father, his touch gentle and precise.
His smile, warm and full of love, painted him as the man I never thought I would see.
“I had my assistant bring everything over. The baby’s room is ready, and you’ve worked so hard, my wife. I swear I’ll never put you through surgery again…”
His voice flowed over me, comforting and sweet, until he reached my lower abdomen with the hot towel.
Suddenly, he froze, his expression shifting to one of pure shock.
Grabbing my hand in panic, his eyes darted to mine, filled with confusion. “Farah… where’s your tattoo?”
I had asked the doctor to remove it during the abortion, but I hadn’t expected it to leave him so speechless.
I had expected to feel the weight of heartache, the sting of sorrow.
But as the tattoo slowly faded away, the painful memories of those nights when I begged for affection, only to be met with impatience, seemed to melt with it, revealing the raw scar beneath.
My heart, once heavy, felt lighter as if a burden had been lifted from my chest.
I met Thorian’s gaze, my voice steady but cold. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Embarrassment flickered in his eyes for a brief moment, and he quickly averted his gaze as though trying to escape the truth.
He lowered his head, his hands nervously beginning to wrap me up.
“What are you saying… how could I not like it?”
Flustered, he quickly found a wheelchair and gently pushed me toward the nursing center.
The nurses and doctors greeted us warmly as we made our way down the hall.
They smiled and commented on how perfectly matched Thorian and I were, praising him for being such a responsible father. They insisted that we’d surely have the happiest family with someone like him.
Thorian smiled back, humble yet proud, his chest swelling with quiet pride.
But when I asked him to fetch me some pain medication and the room was left empty with only me inside, I was alone with my thoughts.
Outside, the voices of the nurses and caretakers shifted. Their tones grew lower, more conspiratorial.
“What the hell, so all those affectionate looks were just for a mistress?”
“Thorian’s wife is clearly Farah; it’s in the registry book.”
“There are even pictures. Mr. Tudor always accompanies Miss Alphin to her classes. Was it all just for this mistress? How disgusting!”
It was at that moment, as if on cue, Breanna appeared.
Breanna tossed a stack of photos onto the bed in front of me, her gaze cold, her attitude dripping with disdain.
“I didn’t expect you to still have the nerve to show up here. This is our baby’s room, mine and Thorian’s.”
The photo she flung down showed Thorian reverently kissing Breanna’s belly, his lips a soft, almost worshipful touch against her skin.
Her radiant smile pierced my chest like a jagged needle.
I quickly turned my head, desperate to avoid the sight, but Breanna wasn’t finished. She clung to me, her presence suffocating.
