Loved Him 7 Years, I Found My Path

Chapter 4

When I woke up again, all I saw was a stark white ceiling.

The smell of disinfectant hung heavy in the air.

My foot was wrapped completely in thick layers of white gauze.

"You're awake?" A doctor walked over, holding a medical clipboard.

She flipped open my medical record, her tone laced with reprimand.

"You're almost three months pregnant, and you took a fall? You have a deep gash on your foot that requires four stitches. Do you have any idea you're showing signs of a threatened miscarriage right now? Your progesterone level is also very low; you need bed rest."

I froze.

"Pregnant?" My voice rose sharply. "I'm pregnant?"

The doctor glanced at me, her expression softening slightly.

"You didn't know? The fetus already has a heartbeat, and it's developing well. But this fall has put stress on the pregnancy. From now on, you need absolute bed rest, and no major emotional stress."

I didn't catch a single word of what she said after that.

I was actually pregnant.

I slowly pulled my hand out from under the covers and rested it on my lower abdomen.

Dozens of thin scars crisscrossed my entire belly.

They were all left from the IVF treatments I'd done over the years.

I closed my eyes, and memories of what happened seven years ago flooded my mind.

It was pouring rain that day.

Jason had just started his business and was short-handed. A document needed to be delivered across town. He couldn't get away, so I went in his place.

But the rain was too heavy, and my bicycle skidded. I was thrown off, and a violent pain tore through my abdomen—as if something inside me was being ripped apart alive.

When I woke up, I was told I had a miscarriage, that my uterus had been damaged, and that I would have great difficulty conceiving again in the future.

That day, Jason stood by my bed, holding my hand and crying.

Over the years, to give him a complete family, I went through five rounds of IVF.

Ovulation stimulation injections went into my belly, leaving the skin covered with tiny puncture marks.

The egg retrieval needle pierced my ovary; the pain was so bad I bit my lip until it bled.

Even though every attempt ended in failure, I never gave up.

And now, I was actually pregnant.

I stroked my lower abdomen gently, and I could almost feel that tiny heartbeat.

My eyes stung and welled with tears at once.

But the wild joy faded quickly, and I was torn.

Should I even keep this baby now?

After struggling for a long time, I still dialed his number.

On the third try, he finally answered.

Jason's voice was lowered. "I'm busy. Get to the point if you need something."

I opened my mouth to speak.

But from the other end of the line, Clara's soft, delicate voice came through, breathless.

"We're busy with something important here. How can you let yourself get distracted? Do you even want me to forgive you?"

His voice grew more distant, as if he had turned his head to soothe her.

Then he was back, his voice even lower. "Serena, I'm really busy right now. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

He hung up.

The continuous busy signal buzzed in my ear, and it stabbed sharply at my nerves.

I clutched my phone tightly, and my whole body went cold.

Next to the name Jason, there was still a little heart emoji glowing on the screen.

He'd taken my phone seven years ago and added that emoji himself.

I stared at that little heart for the longest time, then tremblingly locked the screen.

The sky outside the window had cleared, and the air was filled with birdsong and the scent of flowers.

The world still turned as normal—the sun rose and set, people came and went. Only my world, at this very moment, had completely crumbled apart.

I opened my phone again and booked an appointment for an abortion.

When I set the phone down, my face was already streaked with tears.

I gently rested my hand on my belly. There was a tiny life there, just three months old. But I no longer knew how I could ever let it face a hypocritical father.

The sunlight outside the window was so bright it hurt my eyes.

I buried my face in the pillow, and my tears soaked through the white pillowcase.

This rain that had fallen for seven long years finally let fall its very last drop.

Then I opened my photo album and selected every single photo we had together. As the loading bar spun, the memories of the past were wiped clean, until the album was empty—as if this person had never existed at all.

I smiled, but my tears splashed down onto the screen.

'Goodbye, Jason. May we never meet again.'