Chapter 6

Edward's phone screen lit up, and a message from Samantha popped up.

Samantha: [Mr. Carter, your mother invited me over for dinner at the family estate tonight, and she's getting your old room ready for me. Is that okay, or will it be awkward?]

Edward instinctively flipped his phone over, hiding the screen.

I pulled my hand back.

His expression shifted slightly. "My mom likes having her around."

I asked, "Have I ever stayed in your old room?"

He didn't answer.

I answered for him, "No."

During our three years of marriage, every time I went to the family estate, I always stayed in the guest room.

Mother Carter always said his room was too full of stuff to get ready for guests.

Turns out, it wasn't about being inconvenient.

It was that he never left a place for me.

Edward rubbed his temples. "Do you really have to make a big deal out of this?"

"Yeah, a little thing," I said.

I turned away, not looking at him anymore.

Later that afternoon, Mother Carter showed up.

Samantha followed right behind her.

Samantha was carrying a fruit basket, her eyes puffy and red.

As soon as she walked in, she gave me a respectful bow.

"Mrs. Carter, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I upset you and affected your pregnancy," she said.

There were other pregnant women and their families in the room.

Everyone turned to look.

Mother Carter immediately stepped in to support Samantha. "Why are you apologizing? She's being petty, even pregnant, she can't behave herself."

Samantha bit her lip. "Mother Carter, please don't blame Mrs. Carter. She only minds me because she loves Mr. Carter so much."

That was a smooth move.

Her words were like a velvet blade, cutting me without leaving a mark.

She pinned me as nothing but a jealous, pathetic wife.

Edward stood there, watching, not stopping them.

I looked at him. "Tell them to leave."

He frowned. "My mom came to see you."

Mother Carter scoffed. "Looks like she doesn't need us. Samantha, leave the soup and let's go."

Samantha set the thermos down by my bed, her fingers brushing against my test results.

She suddenly picked it up and gave it a quick look.

"Wow, it really is that bad," Samantha said.

Edward's face fell. "Put it down."

Samantha looked startled, her hand trembling as the test results slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.

Someone from another family in the room picked it up, glanced at the paper, and their expression turned a bit awkward.

I pushed myself up, trying to get out of bed.

Edward held me back. "Don't move."

I said, "Pick it up."

He bent down, picked up the test results, and handed them to me.

Samantha whispered, "Mrs. Carter, please don't be upset. The doctor said it's just a possibility, it doesn't mean you'll lose the baby."

The room fell even more silent.

Someone let out a quiet sigh.

I gripped the test results so hard my knuckles turned white.

Edward finally said coldly, "Samantha, get out."

Samantha's tears started streaming down. "I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose."

Mother Carter instantly protested, "Edward, why are you yelling at her? She's just concerned."

I suddenly spoke up, "Edward, I want to change rooms."

He agreed, "Okay."

"I want to be alone," I said.

He paused. "I'll handle it."

Samantha ran out, crying.

Edward looked at me for a moment, but in the end, he went after her.

The door closed behind them.

A pregnant woman nearby whispered, "Is that your husband?"

I stared at the IV in my hand.

"He used to be," I replied quietly.

She froze for a second, caught off guard.

I didn't bother to explain.

That night, after I moved into a private room, Edward still hadn't come back.

He sent me a message.

Edward: [Samantha was so upset by you that she's got a fever now. I'll be there later.]

I replied with one word.

Grace: [Mm.]

In the middle of the night, I woke up to a sudden, stabbing pain in my belly.

I hit the call button, and a nurse rushed in. The doctor hurried over, and together they started wheeling my bed toward the operating room.

In the chaos, I heard the nurse ask, "Did you reach her family?"

"No answer, the phone's off," someone replied.

I stared up at the ceiling, my hand drifting to rest protectively over my belly.

Turns out, when the pain gets so bad you feel like you're dying, you don't even think to call his name.

Just before the operating room lights came on, I heard my phone buzz.

The nurse took a look for me.

"Your husband replied," she said.

She read it out loud.

Edward: [Stop making drama with the baby. I'll come by in the morning.]

I closed my eyes.

The lights were blindingly white.

*****

The baby didn't make it.

The doctor told me softly.

"Grace, I'm so sorry," he said.

I lay in the hospital bed. The anesthesia hadn't fully worn off yet, and my body was stiff with cold.

I nodded.

The doctor, worried I might break down, added gently, "It's not your fault. You did everything you could."

I stared at the pothos by the window.

The leaves were fresh and new.

It looked like it could survive anything.

But my baby couldn't.

Edward showed up around noon.

He pushed the door open, holding a file in his hand.

When he saw my face, he stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I looked at him, not saying a word.

At that moment, the nurse walked in, her tone sharp.

"You're her family, aren't you? She had a miscarriage last night, and you only show up now?" the nurse demanded.

The file slipped from Edward's hand and fell to the floor.

He looked at me, his lips losing all color.

"Miscarriage?" he whispered, barely getting the word out.