Kaden crouched down in front of me. "Rachel, if loving me is this painful, maybe we should just end it. Let's get a divorce."
My heart ached with a sharp pang.
"Kaden, I'm pregnant."
"Have an abortion."
"Alright." I answered numbly.
Kaden's reaction was surprising as if he had expected something more dramatic.
"Kaden, don't you dare regret this," I said, my voice hollow and ghostly.
"Rachel, I never regret anything," he replied.
I chuckled bitterly—my own foolishness on display.
"Kaden, you've been hurt by other women, so now you're taking that pain out on me, right?"
Kaden didn't respond.
Exhausted both physically and emotionally, I left the operating room.
I was supposed to gain a family member, but now that wasn't going to happen.
It wasn't my choice. Whether I loved or hated Kaden, I wanted a child.
I wanted to be with him and to remind myself repeatedly that I wasn't alone.
But in the past six months, I had been taking medication for heart pain and asthma complications, making it impossible to guarantee the health of the baby.
So, the child would never come into this world.
I called Kaden. "Kaden, take me home. This is the last time. After this, we're done."