Chapter 2

When I woke up again, I was in a hospital room.

The silence was suffocating, with only the sound of IV fluid dripping in the background. It felt like a countdown for someone.

The nurse came in, and when she saw I was awake, her gaze was tinged with both sympathy and reproach. "You're awake? Seriously, the signs of miscarriage were so obvious, yet you kept running around.

"You were brought in too late. The baby didn't make it."

Even though I'd braced myself for it, hearing those words felt like a giant hand squeezing the life out of my heart. The pain was so overwhelming that I could barely breathe.

I tried to speak, but my throat was so dry that nothing came out, and not a single tear fell.

So, when a person's heart truly died, there were no tears. There was only a hollow emptiness, like a scalpel carving out everything inside.

"Where's your family? Someone needs to sign for the surgery. You signed yourself in the emergency, but now for the follow-up treatment, a family member needs to be present," the nurse said.

Family? I didn't have any family anymore.

I pulled out my phone. There was not a single missed call. I opened Instagram, and the first post was from Celeste ten minutes ago.

The picture showed Trevor holding a golden retriever, his face turned to the side, bathed in gentle light. The softness in his eyes was something I hadn't seen in so long.

The caption said, [Thank you for always being here. We found the dog, and now I can finally breathe easy. It's so good to have you with me.]

I stared at that photo for so long, my eyes stinging from exhaustion.

While Trevor was out with Celeste, helping her search for her dog, our baby had become nothing but a pool of blood, disposed of as medical waste.

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Trevor. [Are you done with your drama? We have found the dog. Stop making a scene and get yourself a cab home. Celeste's shaken up, so I'm staying with her tonight.]

Every word dripped with concern for her, and nothing but impatience for me.

I stared calmly at his message, then tapped out simple words on the screen: [Let's get a divorce.]

I sent the message, then blocked him without any hesitation.

There was no screaming, no begging, and no tears. When a person's heart was dead, nothing hurt anymore.

I pulled the IV needle from my hand, ignoring the nurse's attempts to stop me. I signed the release form, then dragged my weak body out of the hospital.

I dragged myself back to that so-called home. Now, the villa that once felt warm and inviting was nothing but empty and cold.

I walked into the bedroom and grabbed a huge black trash bag.

I threw away the mugs for a couple, the wedding photo, the cheap necklace he gave me, and all the plain dresses I bought to please him.

Within an hour, every sign of me, and every trace of our so-called love, was erased from the room.

I dragged my suitcase behind me and took one last look at this cage I'd been trapped in for three years.

Trevor would never understand that what died that day wasn't just our baby. It was also Anya who used to love him so desperately.

I left the keys on the foyer cabinet, turned around, closed the door, and stepped into the thick darkness of night.

The wind was strong, nearly knocking me over as I was still fragile from the post-miscarriage surgery. But I felt a lightness I'd never known before.

Even if the road ahead was shrouded in darkness, it was still brighter than the life I had by his side.