"The doctor said the best solution is an organ transplant. What do you think? We could try again, have a healthy one this time."
"If you don’t like IVF, then we won’t go down that path. This time, it’ll be real, a child of ours, truly ours."
"Then, the four of us will be the happiest family in the world."
Before I could answer, a message from Breanna appeared on my phone, its cruel words flashing across the screen.
[As expected, garbage breeds more garbage. There’s no choice but to make you have another one.]
The photo she sent made my heart stop. There she was, proudly wearing the same rose-colored ring I had once cherished, one hand clutching a baby lying unconscious in an oxygen chamber.
The rose-colored ring, once a symbol of our love and the child who should’ve been the embodiment of our dreams, had become a curse. What once filled me with longing now sent a chill through my spine.
I turned my head, refusing to let Thorian’s kiss touch my lips, the weight of everything making it impossible to respond.
In the uncertainty of his gaze, I placed my hand gently over his, offering a calm I didn’t feel.
"Alright, I’ll go to the hospital once I finish up here."
Thorian’s eyes widened for a moment, but the shock quickly faded, replaced by an eager joy that couldn’t be masked.
Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and shot a message to Breanna.
He tried to reassure me as though convincing both of us.
"Breanna’s been taking care of the baby these past few days. I just wanted to let her know the baby’s mother is coming back. Don’t overthink it."
I offered a small smile, saying nothing, watching him hurry to the hospital, practically bursting with excitement to reunite with Breanna.
Turning away, I closed the door behind me and tossed my phone aside, the weight of it all sinking in.
After wiping away every trace of myself, I grabbed my suitcase and stepped onto a plane bound for foreign skies.
From that moment onward, we would exist in separate worlds as distant as the stars.
Our paths would never cross again.
…
In the sterile quiet of the hospital, Thorian waited, his patience slowly wearing thin.
He had no doubt that Farah would come, just like she had before, sacrificing herself for him.
Her love for him was undeniable; she would never let the child suffer without doing everything in her power to help.
But as the minutes ticked by, his confidence began to waver.
He reached for his phone, dialing her number, only to be met with silence.
It was the first time she hadn't answered his call.
He could still see the edge of the photo burning in the fire pit, the chilling finality of Farah’s words echoing in his mind.
His heart tightened, panic rising as he waited, uncertain of what was happening.
No, it couldn’t be.
The answer he feared was impossible.
Thorian shoved Breanna aside, determination flaring as he made his way home, intent on finding Farah.
But just as he was about to leave, a figure appeared at the door.
He laughed to himself, dismissing his anxiety.
Farah was like a stubborn shadow; there was no way she wouldn’t show up.
Confident, he swung open the door, ready to lecture her for the drama she’d caused.
But instead of Farah, someone handed him an envelope with a cool, professional air.
"Sir, here’s your registration letter."
Farah was nowhere to be found.
Thorian’s heart stuttered in his chest.
Before he could speak, Breanna snatched the envelope from his hands, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
She cast a glance at the name "Farah" on the envelope, her lips curling into a mocking laugh.
"I guess she regrets it," Breanna sneered. "Regrets saving you back then. Now, she won’t even save the child. She’s just run off."
Thorian's brow furrowed, irritation flashing across his face, but his pulse quickened with a growing sense of dread.
Breanna ripped open the envelope, and two papers slipped out.
One was a consent form for an abortion.
The other was a signed divorce agreement.
