Chapter 3

When I woke up, the doctor delivered the news: I had been pregnant, and I had miscarried.

I instinctively touched my flat stomach. There was no overwhelming wave of grief.

The pregnancy was such a shock that I hadn't even had time to process it before it was over.

So I didn't feel devastated. I just felt like this was how things were always meant to end.

A nurse pushed the door open to check on me, giving me a quick once-over.

"You're awake. You didn't have an ID on you when you were brought in, so we treated you as a Jane Doe and initiated the emergency protocol for surgery."

She handed me a spare hospital phone.

"Are you able to contact someone now?"

Adrian's number was burned into my memory. I dialed it without a second thought.

The call connected quickly, but it was Brielle's voice that answered.

"Hello? Adrian's a little tied up right now. If it's important, try again later."

Hearing her voice sent a dull ache through my chest. I just said one word.

"Okay."

She recognized me instantly and let out a soft, mocking laugh.

"Oh, it's you. Adrian already said he's done taking your calls. Stop acting so desperate."

She was about to hang up, but I quickly spoke up.

"Wait. I just need to say a few words to him."

Before I could say anything else, she suddenly burst into theatrical tears.

"Adrian... does Narcissa have feelings for you? If she really loves you, I... I can step aside."

I heard Adrian sigh in the background.

"Brie, don't be ridiculous. Narcissa is just Evan's girlfriend."

I gripped the hospital blanket, enduring the sharp pain that came with every breath.

Before I could say another word, the line went dead.

I sat there in a daze for a long time before finally dialing Marcus's number.

The miscarriage surgery wasn't major, so I was discharged that same day.

When I got home, I hired someone to fix the window shattered by the storm. Then, I placed all my medical records into the nightstand drawer in my bedroom.

That drawer held my most precious things: my parents' belongings, Evan's keepsakes, and now, the only proof that my baby had ever existed.

I pulled out Evan's belongings. The dried blood was still visible on them.

I talked to him for a long time, murmuring everything I had kept bottled up, before finally placing it back into the drawer.

"Evan, I'm going to start living my own life now."

With that, I locked the drawer, packed my bags, and booked a flight for three days later.

For those three days, I stayed locked in my apartment, sketching designs.

Anonymous texts and social media accounts kept sending me photos of Adrian and Brielle together. I knew it was her doing.

Adrian called me a few times during those three days too, but I didn't answer a single one.

On the day I was set to leave, I received one last photo.

A pale hand wearing a massive diamond ring. Followed by a text:

[Narcissa, Adrian proposed to me.]

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and replied with a single sentence:

[I wish you happiness.]

Then, I turned off my phone and drove to O'Hare International Airport.

Just before boarding, a text from Adrian popped up.

[Narcissa, why aren't you home?]

Immediately after, my phone started ringing back-to-back. I ignored them all.

Right before I had to power down my phone for the flight, I finally answered.

"Adrian, have a good life. Goodbye."

But what met me was his raw, furious roar through the speaker.

"I saw the medical records in your nightstand! Is that why you're running away? Because you got knocked up and miscarried?! Is the guilt over Evan finally eating you alive?!"

Chapter 3

When I woke up, the doctor delivered the news: I had been pregnant, and I had miscarried.

I instinctively touched my flat stomach. There was no overwhelming wave of grief.

The pregnancy was such a shock that I hadn't even had time to process it before it was over.

So I didn't feel devastated. I just felt like this was how things were always meant to end.

A nurse pushed the door open to check on me, giving me a quick once-over.

"You're awake. You didn't have an ID on you when you were brought in, so we treated you as a Jane Doe and initiated the emergency protocol for surgery."

She handed me a spare hospital phone.

"Are you able to contact someone now?"

Adrian's number was burned into my memory. I dialed it without a second thought.

The call connected quickly, but it was Brielle's voice that answered.

"Hello? Adrian's a little tied up right now. If it's important, try again later."

Hearing her voice sent a dull ache through my chest. I just said one word.

"Okay."

She recognized me instantly and let out a soft, mocking laugh.

"Oh, it's you. Adrian already said he's done taking your calls. Stop acting so desperate."

She was about to hang up, but I quickly spoke up.

"Wait. I just need to say a few words to him."

Before I could say anything else, she suddenly burst into theatrical tears.

"Adrian... does Narcissa have feelings for you? If she really loves you, I... I can step aside."

I heard Adrian sigh in the background.

"Brie, don't be ridiculous. Narcissa is just Evan's girlfriend."

I gripped the hospital blanket, enduring the sharp pain that came with every breath.

Before I could say another word, the line went dead.

I sat there in a daze for a long time before finally dialing Marcus's number.

The miscarriage surgery wasn't major, so I was discharged that same day.

When I got home, I hired someone to fix the window shattered by the storm. Then, I placed all my medical records into the nightstand drawer in my bedroom.

That drawer held my most precious things: my parents' belongings, Evan's keepsakes, and now, the only proof that my baby had ever existed.

I pulled out Evan's belongings. The dried blood was still visible on them.

I talked to him for a long time, murmuring everything I had kept bottled up, before finally placing it back into the drawer.

"Evan, I'm going to start living my own life now."

With that, I locked the drawer, packed my bags, and booked a flight for three days later.

For those three days, I stayed locked in my apartment, sketching designs.

Anonymous texts and social media accounts kept sending me photos of Adrian and Brielle together. I knew it was her doing.

Adrian called me a few times during those three days too, but I didn't answer a single one.

On the day I was set to leave, I received one last photo.

A pale hand wearing a massive diamond ring. Followed by a text:

[Narcissa, Adrian proposed to me.]

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and replied with a single sentence:

[I wish you happiness.]

Then, I turned off my phone and drove to O'Hare International Airport.

Just before boarding, a text from Adrian popped up.

[Narcissa, why aren't you home?]

Immediately after, my phone started ringing back-to-back. I ignored them all.

Right before I had to power down my phone for the flight, I finally answered.

"Adrian, have a good life. Goodbye."

But what met me was his raw, furious roar through the speaker.

"I saw the medical records in your nightstand! Is that why you're running away? Because you got knocked up and miscarried?! Is the guilt over Evan finally eating you alive?!"