“Damn shame. The mom pulled through, but the baby didn’t make it. She didn’t get to the hospital in time.”
“Where’s her family?”
“No one was here. The mother signed the consent forms herself.”
The words drifted into Evangeline’s consciousness as she slowly surfaced from anesthesia, the terror of nearly dying still clinging to her. She heard the doctor and nurse talking just beside her bed.
Almost involuntarily, she laid a trembling hand on her stomach.
Just as the doctor had said, the baby was gone.
Where her belly had once begun to swell, there was only emptiness now.
She would never again feel that tiny life fluttering under her palm.
She knew she should be sobbing, hysterical, shattered. But for some reason, not a single tear would come.
Maybe she’d simply run out of tears a long time ago.
When the doctor saw she was awake, he asked about her pain, then offered a few gentle words before leaving, assuring her that she’d get another chance, that there would be other children someday.
Evangeline only nodded.
She didn’t bother to explain that there wouldn’t be another child. This one had never truly been hers to begin with–just like her marriage was never really hers, only borrowed, stolen for a time.
She had once gotten her wish: marrying Soren Fawkes, the golden boy of Serenity City’s most prominent family. But Soren had always looked at her like she was some calculating usurper, his disdain obvious from the start. On their wedding night, he’d gone out of his way to humiliate her, making a show of leaving for a club so everyone would know exactly what he thought of her.
She’d become the laughingstock of Serenity City.
After five years together, he’d mellowed–at least a little. Sometimes, when the gossip and mockery got especially cruel, Soren would take pity and step in to defend her.
People say even strangers develop some affection after seeing each other day after day. Maybe that’s why, after pretending to be husband and wife for so long. there seemed to be a sliver of kindness between them.
But Soren had made himself clear to her from the very beginning.
He would only ever desire her–not love her. And he would never allow her to have
his child.
Every time, they were meticulous–never letting down their guard. On the rare occasions things got out of hand, he’d make sure she took the morning–after pill.
Evangeline spent years walking on eggshells, dutifully playing the part of Mrs. Whitmore, following all his unspoken rules.
Then, three months ago, everything changed. Soren stumbled home wasted, whiskey heavy on his breath, and they had sex–no protection.
Afterward, Evangeline went to take her pill–but the box was empty. She’d meant to buy more, but life got busy and somehow she forgot.
She thought, surely, one time wouldn’t matter. But fate had other plans.
For weeks, she was anxious, uncertain. She hid the truth for nearly three months before finally deciding she would tell Soren today.
She’d hoped that maybe, with the baby, things would change between them. Maybe they could be more than just strangers under the same roof. But on her way to meet him, the car accident happened,
Her parents were long gone. The Fawkes family barely tolerated her.
Before the surgery, she’d glimpsed the doctor trying to call Soren, sending him a message about the accident. Soren hadn’t even answered. In the end, he must have found her such a nuisance, he simply turned off his phone.
Evangeline knew he was cold, but she never imagined he could be this heartles
Lying there, she stared up at the hospital’s sterile white ceiling.
Five years of marriage–a dream from which she was only now waking up.
She needed the bathroom, but everyone in the corridor seemed rushed and preoccupied, No one offered to help, so she dragged her IV stand step by step toward the restroom.
At least the hospital gowns didn’t have buttons, she thought with a bitter smile,
Chapter 2
Something that should have taken minutes stretched into half an hour, her body. slow and clumsy after surgery.
As she left the bathroom and started back, a woman’s voice drifted from the nearby
office.
She froze mid–step, recognizing the gentle, sweet tone.
, it’s nothing v
“Soren, it’s just a sprain. I told fussing over me for no reason,” the woman said, her voice full of warmth and playful reproach.
There was no trace of blame, just a soft, affectionate lilt that made her sound impossibly pure and innocent. Even Evangeline, standing there as another woman, felt the urge to protect her.
This time, Evangeline saw her clearly–the girl Soren could never let go of. Poppy.
Evangeline never knew whether Soren truly hadn’t seen her in the hallway just now, or whether he’d seen her and simply didn’t care–just left her to fend for herself, as always.
