Carter held me in his arms, his voice breaking as he finally let out a sob. "We’ll have another child, Nadine. Right now, your health is what matters most."
I closed my eyes, feeling the tears falling freely down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. "Carter, it was Kierra. She pushed me."
His eyes went wide, shock and anger flashing across his face. "What? Kierra told me you just fell on your own. She would never do that. How could you think of her like that?"
That woman, Kierra Spencer, had a way of twisting the truth, turning everything around to make herself look innocent.
I felt my heart break all over again, thinking of the baby we lost. I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. "I didn’t fall. She dragged me outside to build a snowman, then she shoved me down the stairs."
Back then, Carter had been so in love with me. I could see it in his eyes—how he used to look at me.
He took a deep breath, trying to process what I had said. Then he comforted me and called the housekeeper to stay with me while he went to confront Kierra.
That evening, Carter came back to the hospital room, and his face was dark and guilty. "Nadine, Kierra denies pushing you. There were no security cameras where you fell, so there’s no proof."
He paused, rubbing his face in frustration, his exhaustion clear. "Her father asked our family to look after her before he died. He was the one who saved my dad’s life in that accident all those years ago. You need to understand, it’s... complicated."
Then, Carter’s mother entered the room, her face etched with concern. She told me to focus on improving— my health was the top priority. Then, she asked me to understand Kierra and about the situation with the family.
I could feel the weight of it all—the guilt, the pressure. I knew what was happening.
Even if Carter believed me, and I truly believed he did, the McGregors would never hold Kierra accountable. Not the way I needed them to.
With my eyes red from crying, I asked Carter softly, "Do you believe me?"
He squeezed my hand gently. "Nadine, I believe you. The baby we lost was mine too."
And that was it. I broke down in his arms, finally letting go of the pain I had been holding inside for so long. "Carter, I never want to see her again. Never."
Before leaving, Carter’s mom promised me that I wouldn’t have to see Kierra in the McGregor house again.
So, Kierra went abroad to study before our wedding. The McGregors told her she couldn’t return to California.
But despite everything, the emotional damage lingered.
I was physically weakened by the loss, and we never had any children after that. Five long years passed without a baby.
I developed a deep aversion to the smell of hospital disinfectant—it triggered memories of pain, loss, and fear. I couldn’t look at snow without that horrible jolt in my chest, remembering how it was tied to losing my baby. Most of all, I couldn’t stand Kierra’s innocent, sweet smile—the one she wore while doing horrible things.
But then, after five years, everything changed.
Carter’s mother started pressuring us about not having kids. We’d been married for five years, and still no children. Even though Carter and I had been living apart for some time, and he’d always protected me from the family’s constant demands, it seemed like that was no longer enough.
And now, Kierra was allowed to return to California. She was working for the McGregor company.
When I found out she was back, I completely lost it. I cried and threw a tantrum like a little kid, but Carter insisted that so much time had passed, and I needed to let it go.
"So much time has passed," he said, his voice calm but steady. "Even if Kierra made a mistake, she’s aware of it now. You need to let it go."
It hurt more than I expected. Carter had completely forgotten how eagerly he’d once anticipated the birth of our child. How he promised to be the best father, how he said he would always love me.
But now, it was clear. It was only me who was still holding on to the past.
I stared at the hospital and my thoughts were in a tangled mess. Then, I opened the car door myself. My knees ached with the effort, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight that pressed on my chest.
Carter rushed around to my side, ready to carry me into the emergency room. But I shook my head. I wasn’t that same girl who used to pout and act cute whenever something hurt.
"Get me a wheelchair," I said flatly.
Carter’s frustration boiled over. He was angry that I’d rejected his help again, but he clenched his jaw and held back his temper. Still, he refused to get me a wheelchair.
"No," he said firmly, "I’ll carry you in."
I didn’t argue. He picked me up, lifted me carefully, and walked me into the emergency room. The doctor quickly tended to my leg, stopping the bleeding and cleaning the injury.
Just as I was settling in, Carter’s phone rang. I didn’t look up. My attention was still focused on my leg, on the throbbing pain that wouldn’t seem to subside.
Carter stepped outside to take the call. When he returned, I was startled to see someone with him.
Kierra.
When she saw my leg wrapped in bandages, her face softened, and she stepped forward, her eyes filled with concern. "What happened to your leg, Sis? Are you mad at Carter? Did you two fight? Please don’t misunderstand—Carter was just celebrating with me tonight. It’s not what you think."
Kierra’s fake smile and overly sweet tone made me want to gag. Back in college, Carter and I had our share of those 'sugar-coated' types—nice on the outside, but full of ulterior motives underneath.
But back then, Carter had this incredible ability to spot fakes from a mile away. Nothing ever stirred up drama. He’d shut it down before it even had a chance.
But now? With Kierra practically waving her manipulative flag in our faces, Carter couldn’t see it. Not even a little.
I remember the first time I met Kierra at Carter’s place. Even then, she never called me by my name. She always referred to me as her sister-in-law. Back then, I thought it was normal since Carter and I weren’t married yet, and she was his 'adoptive sister.'
But now, after five years of marriage, she still dares to refer as her sister-in-law after cheating with my husband behind my back?
I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
I glanced at her, feeling a knot in my stomach, and said, "My mom only had me. So you're not my sister and we're never related to each other, Kierra."
She blinked, all wide-eyed and innocent, before replying, “Carter treats me like his sister, so naturally, you’re my sister too.”
I could feel my blood starting to boil.
Before I could even respond, Carter, who’d been listening, shot me a look and started scolding me. "It’s not Kierra who hurt your leg, so why are you taking it out on her? You’re really being unreasonable."
I was fuming. "She’s your dear little sister, not mine! Carter, don’t take your temper out on me. Just take your 'little sister' and get out of here!"
