Chapter 4
The hospital room was bathed in a cold, harsh white light. Outside, rain hammered against the window, the drops so thick they blurred the view.
I lay on the bed, my belly tightening in waves, my lower back aching as if an iron hook was dragging it down.
The nurse wiped the sweat from my forehead, her voice gentle.
"If it hurts, just scream," she said softly.
I bit down on the gauze, my jaw aching.
Footsteps echoed outside the door.
Andrew tried to come in, but the nurse stopped him.
"She said she doesn't want to see you," the nurse said firmly.
He stood in the doorway, his voice rough and unrecognizable.
"Just let me see her for a second," he pleaded.
I grabbed the water cup from the bedside table and threw it at him.
The cup slammed against the door, water splattering all over the floor.
"Get out," I snapped.
Outside, everything went quiet.
A few minutes later, Joanna's voice rang out again.
"Andy, your hand's bleeding. Let me take care of it for you," she offered.
I let out a bitter laugh, my stomach twisting with pain.
This woman really was something else. Even after my baby was gone, she was still putting on that little performance.
Early the next morning, the baby was delivered.
No cry. Just silence.
The nurse gently swaddled the tiny body in a blanket and quietly asked if I wanted to see.
I reached out, my fingers shaking so badly I couldn't bring myself to touch the blanket.
It was just a fragile little bundle, skin paper-thin, eyes closed, fingers curled up against its chest.
I counted.
One, two, three, four, five.
Five fingers on each little hand.
A broken, choked sound slipped from my throat as I curled in on myself, the harsh blend of blood and disinfectant making my stomach heave.
When Andrew rushed in, I was clutching the little bundle in my arms.
He stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes rimmed red.
"Charlotte," he said softly.
I looked up at him.
"Don't call me that," I said coldly.
He took a step forward, then stopped.
"I'll get to the bottom of what happened to the baby," he said.
I couldn't take my eyes off his hand, still smeared with blood. He must've smashed something last night, his knuckles were bandaged, the gauze soaked through with red.
"Investigate what, exactly? How Joanna got your phone? How Linda shoved me? Or maybe why you always let them get near me?" I snapped.
He swallowed hard.
"I didn't know she'd do something like that," he said.
"You didn't know?" I shot back.
I handed the little blanket to the nurse and propped myself up, my stomach feeling hollow and aching, my fingers gripping the bedrail.
"Andrew, in three years, you left my birthday for her fever, abandoned my prenatal checkup for her mother's chest pain, and put her next to your on-call room because she feared the dark. You always said they had no one else," I said.
I watched as his face went pale.
"What about me? I vomited bile while pregnant, and you told me to take a cab. At the baby's first kick, you were helping Joanna choose a caregiver. Andrew, you knew. You just thought I'd never leave," I said.
His shoulders gave a slight, shaky tremble.
Joanna stood in the doorway, tears streaming down her face.
"Charlie, please don't blame Andy for everything. It's all my fault. I'm willing to kneel and beg for your forgiveness," she said.
Then she actually knelt down.
Everyone in the hallway stopped and stared.
She knelt right in front of the nurse's station, picking the perfect spot and timing, her knees hit the floor with a dramatic thud, tears falling fast and fierce, like she was putting on a show.
"I just depended on Andy too much. My dad made him promise to take care of me before he died. I never meant to mess up your marriage," Joanna said, voice trembling.
Linda shoved her way in, pointed straight at me, and started shouting.
"My daughter's already on her knees. What else do you want? Losing the baby was your own rotten luck, so stop latching onto other people and bleeding them dry!" she snapped.
Andrew turned around.
"Aunt Linda, say one more thing and I'll call the cops," Andrew said, his voice icy.
Linda froze, stunned into silence.
I looked at Joanna, slowly picking up my phone from the bedside table.
"Stay on your knees," I said coldly.
She froze for a second.
I aimed the camera at her and hit record.
"Come on, say everything you said again. Tell everyone you used Andrew's phone to reply to my messages, that you're not even a doctor but you thought you could make decisions for me, and that your mom shoved me."
Joanna suddenly choked up, her sobs stopping mid-sentence.
Linda's expression changed in an instant, and she lunged at me, trying to snatch my phone.
Andrew moved quickly, stepping between us to block her.
Andrew shot her a cold glare. "Don't lay a finger on her."
I gave a cold laugh.
"So now you finally block her?" I shot back.
His back went rigid.
The air in the room felt suffocating and bitter. I pressed the call button.
The nurse came in, and I spoke up.
"Call security and the police," I said.
Joanna's head snapped up.
"Charlie, are you really going to call the police? Andy's about to be promoted to department head, if you do this, you'll destroy everything he's worked for," she pleaded.
I stared her down, every word sharp as a knife.
"He cost me my child, and you want to talk about his future?" I shot back.
Andrew's face went completely pale.
When the police came to take statements, Joanna was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, while Linda insisted she never pushed me.
I pulled out my phone and played the recording.
I'd been recording everything since I walked into the office.
Linda's voice rang out loud and clear in the hospital room. "I just gave her a little push."
Linda's knees buckled and she clutched the wall for support.
Joanna's tears dried up.
Andrew stood by the window, the bandage on his hand soaked through with blood. He kept his head down, not saying a word.
I watched the police jot everything down, keeping my voice steady.
"I want an official assessment of my injuries, and I want them held legally responsible," I said.
Andrew finally looked up.
"Charlotte, I'll stay by your side," he said softly.
I tossed the divorce papers at his feet.
"Sign this first," I said coldly.