I had planned to wait until the baby was three months along before telling my husband—and to demand that Sherree be sent abroad.
After the car accident, the baby was unharmed. I thought he was lucky.
But now, one child lay in a coma, and the other… was gone—both because of those Frohlich siblings!
I lay back on the bed, closing my eyes.
At that point, no more tears would fall.
Delane’s POV
The curtains in the VIP ward were drawn tightly shut. Post-surgery weakness and the lingering aftereffects of a miscarriage still clung to me, yet I insisted on staying in the same room with my daughter, who had yet to regain consciousness.
These past few days, Payton had been unusually gentle to me. He was so gentle that he’d even tested the temperature of my food several times before feeding me, his voice low and coaxing.
“Delane, I know you’ve suffered too much,” he murmured. “It’s my fault for not protecting you… and our baby.”
“You can’t have children anymore, and I can’t give you another baby. But if you’d like, we can adopt one. I’ll treat them as if they were my own flesh and blood,” he suggested.
I pulled my hand from his grasp, unable to even look at him without feeling sick.