Chapter 3
The doctor, a woman in her forties, glanced at my prenatal report and then at my pale face. She spoke softly, "Young lady, are you really sure you want to have an abortion?
"This is your first pregnancy. The baby is already six weeks along, and there's a heartbeat. Maybe you should think it over. Where's your family? Why did you come alone?"
When she mentioned the heartbeat, a sharp pain shot through my chest, and tears almost spilled from my eyes. I clenched my fists, and my nails dug into my palms, forcing myself to harden my heart.
I nodded. "I'm sure. There's nothing to reconsider. My family couldn't make it. I'm fine on my own."
The doctor sighed and didn't ask any more questions. She handed me the pre-op forms—blood work, ultrasound, and EKG. I went through each test alone, shuttling between departments.
The dull ache in my lower abdomen kept getting worse, and a coldness seeped through my whole body, but not a single tear fell.
All my sorrow had already been drained away on this Christmas Eve. I had no tears left to shed.
Once everything was ready, the doctor asked if I wanted anesthesia or to feel it all. I chose to feel it. I needed to remember this pain, the hopelessness of this Christmas Eve, and every price I paid for loving Alex.
After today, I'd finally let it all go without regretting.
As I stepped into the surgery room, the icy table and blinding lights made everything feel unreal. The voices of the doctors and nurses echoed around me. I shut my eyes, and at long last, the tears slipped down my cheeks.
I felt sorry for my child. I couldn't give it a real family, or a dad who cared about it. I hoped it wouldn't blame me. If there was another chance, I hoped it would end up somewhere good—be treasured, be loved, and be someone's whole world.
The surgery didn't take long, but the pain made my whole body shake. Cold sweat soaked my hair, sticking it to my forehead.
Sharp cramps twisted in my lower abdomen, like something was being ripped out of me, along with every last shred of love I still had for Alex, leaving nothing behind.
When I finally walked out of the surgery room, my face was white as a sheet and I was barely able to stand, leaning on the wall for support.
The nurse gave me some water and went over the post-op instructions: stay in bed, have nutritious food, don't overexert myself, and no sex for a month.
I quietly nodded, thanked her, memorized everything, and left the hospital alone.
The snow had stopped, leaving a thick layer on the ground that crunched under my feet. Just as the clock struck midnight, fireworks burst across the sky, lighting up all of Snowbridge in a dazzling display.
I stood at the hospital entrance, watching the fireworks explode overhead. I touched my now-flat belly, feeling hollow inside, but strangely peaceful.
From this moment on, Alex and I were truly over. There was nothing left to hold us together.
*****
I didn't go back to Ford Manor. Instead, I had the driver take me to my own little apartment, the one I'd bought before I got married. It wasn't big, but it was cozy, and it was the only place I could truly call my own.
When I opened the door, there was none of the cold emptiness of Ford Manor, just the familiar feeling of a place that belonged to me.
I changed into something comfortable, made myself a cup of coffee, and sipped it slowly, letting the warmth seep into my chilled body.
As I lay in bed, my lower abdomen was still throbbing with pain. I pulled out my phone, deleted every photo of Alex, wiped his contact info, and then opened WhatsApp to send him a message. [Alex, let's get divorced.]
After sending it, I turned off my phone, closed my eyes, and finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. For the first time in a year, I slept soundly—no expectations, no waiting, no resentment, just pure relief.
Alex's POV
Meanwhile, Alex had finally come back to Ford Manor from Flora's place.
He pushed open the door to Ford Manor and glanced around the lifeless living room. The dining table was laid out with a cold meal and two perfectly arranged place settings.
A strange restlessness crept over him. Frowning, Alex called out, "Nicole?" No answer.
The whole manor was eerily silent, except for the housekeeper standing nearby, who spoke up cautiously, "Mr. Ford, Mrs. Ford has been waiting for you since this afternoon.
"She stayed until after ten, then went out on her own, and she still hasn't returned."
Alex's frown grew even deeper, and an inexplicable anger bubbled up inside him. He thought Nicole was acting out.
Since he hadn't come home for Christmas, she must've stormed out on purpose, trying to make him notice her.
He pulled out his phone and saw Nicole's message about divorce. A mocking smile tugged at his lips, his eyes cold as ice.
He thought, 'Divorce? Nicole really never learns to stay in her lane. She used to act all obedient, and now she's trying to threaten me with divorce? I'll wait and see how long she keeps up this act.'
He deleted the message without a second thought, not even bothering to take it seriously. To him, it was just another one of Nicole's moods. He was sure she'd come crawling back in a few days, like always.
In Alex's mind, she couldn't let go of being Mrs. Ford, the luxury he gave her, or him. Asking for a divorce was just another trick to get his attention.
He would never know what Nicole had lost that Christmas Eve, or what she had given up for good.