She reached for my hand, holding it gently. I felt her tremble before I even saw the tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The baby… you lost it.”
The words sank in slowly, like stones in water. My breath caught; my heart clenched, but no sound came out. I stared at her, hoping she’d take it back, that maybe she meant something else.
But her eyes said everything. The baby—my last small hope—was gone.
I felt the tears slide down my face before I even realized I was crying. The pain spread through me, sharp and hollow, until it was too much to breathe. I wanted to scream, to curse the world, to ask why it kept taking everything from me—but no words would come.
My mother leaned forward, pressing my hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry, my daughter. You’ve been through too much. The trauma, the stress—it was too much for your body.”
I swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling. “So… it’s gone?”
She nodded.
Something inside me cracked, but at the same time, I felt lighter—emptier, yes, but free in a strange, cruel way. The weight that had chained me to that house, to that man, to that lie, was gone. At least now, I wouldn’t have to raise another piece of Nathan.