Chapter 2:TheTruth
1725 Words
I gasped deeply, my eyes fluttering open like someone who had just been rescued from drowning.
Above me was a white blinding light, it was so bright I was forced to shield my eyes with my hand— but I couldn't feel my hand. Not just my hands, I couldn't feel my entire body, it felt like it wasn't mine anymore.
Tears filled my eyes as pieces of memory from the accident slipped back — the truck, the loud horn, the crash, the scream… and the terrifying darkness.
Was I dead already?
How's Max going to survive without me?
Lilian…
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Not a sound. My throat felt locked, like someone had stolen my voice.
Panic crawled up my throat.
I wasn’t ready to be dead.
But If this was heaven, why did everything hurt?
“You're finally awake,” I heard a soft soothing voice and then a figure leaned over me.
A man in white.
For one terrifying moment, I thought he was an angel.
But no. That wasn’t a robe. It was a lab coat. The man peering down at me was a doctor.
I swallowed hard as I fought back the tears threatening to spill.
I was alive.
Oh God, I'm not dead… yet
I didn’t know if I was grateful or terrified.
“If you can hear me please lift a finger or move your toes,” the doctor said calmly.
I struggled, forcing every bit of strength I had into my hand. After what felt like forever to me, my right index finger twitched.
“There we go.” He smiled faintly, relief flashing in his eyes. “You can hear me.”
I wanted to speak, but no sound came out. My throat was dry and tight, like something had locked my voice away.
“You are in the hospital,” he continued, his tone gentle but firm. “You’ve been in an accident. Your brakes failed and your car was badly hit.”
My heart thumped painfully in my chest. I didn't want to remember that horrible incident. I didn't want to relieve it.
Max had been worried about me using my car but his car… his own car ended up almost killing me. I could have gotten away from that truck if my brakes were working.
I know he would be worried sick by now. And I knew — God, I knew — he would never forgive himself for this.
I made to speak— to ask the doctor where my husband was, but my voice wouldn't come out.
“You had to go through a major surgery,” the doctor said softly, adjusting the IV line near my bed. “The good news is you survived. The surgery went well. Your body will recover, but…” He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “…it will take time.”
My eyes darted to his face, my eyes pleading, urging him to explain further.
He sighed deeply as if understanding the plea in my eyes.
“You are in what we call a semi-coma,” he explained. “That’s why you can hear me, but your body isn’t fully responding yet. You just need to rest, soon your body will feel like yours again. You understand right?” he asked, smiling.
I blinked once, trying to show him I understood.
“Good,” he nodded. “Now, I need to ask you something important.
I stared at him, waiting.
He hesitated, as if contemplating if he should go ahead with the question.
“From what I'm seeing here,” he said, looking down at the folder in his hands, “you recently performed a hysterectomy,”
My world stilled as I heard that.
Hysterectomy?
Who performed a hysterectomy?
What's this doctor talking about?
I tried to say something but I couldn't, my voice wasn't back yet and the doctor wasn't even f*****g looking at me, his eyes were still buried in the folder in his hands.
This isn't right.
I don't think he has the right folder.
No. I don't think that's mine.
If only he could look at me and see the f*****g look in my eyes!
“It's a good thing you didn't want the womb,” he continued casually, flipping another page, “and you had it removed else you would have been so devastated because the accident wouldn't have spared it either,” he finished, finally looking up at me.
I glared wide-eyed at him, my brow furrowed deeply.
He froze.
He seemed to understand the look in my eyes as he frowned deeply.
Something shifted in his expression — first it was confusion, then realization, then dread.
“You didn't—” he couldn't even complete what he wanted to say.
I shook my head, my gaze still locked on his.
His eyes narrowed. “Have you ever undergone any procedure?” He softly asked, his words measured, his voice low and slow.
And just then…. it clicked.
My mind went back to two years ago when I had announced the news of my pregnancy to Max. I had expected him to be happy we were finally going to be parents, but his countenance had dropped, he wasn't as excited as I expected.
He pleaded with me to abort the pregnancy. He said he wasn't ready yet, he didn't want to raise a child while depending on his wife's income. He wanted to be a real father figure to our kids, someone stable, someone capable.
When I had resisted, he had asked me to choose between him and the baby.
I didn't want to choose, they both meant the world to me.
Slowly, I watched Max fall apart, he didn't even spare me a glance anymore in the house. I became his enemy. The environment became toxic. I started reconsidering my decision.
I didn't want to birth my child under such toxicity. I wanted the father to be involved in every step of the way. I wanted my child to feel loved, to grow in warmth, not in resentment. And if Max said this wasn't the right time, then maybe I was being too forward.
And so I finally agreed to his request.
I could remember the relief and joy on his face after I told him. I saw my husband smile again for the first time in weeks. He promised to work so hard so we won't have to abort our next baby.
He told me he had fixed an appointment with the doctor and all I had to do was show up.
I was devastated when I found out he wasn't going to be present with me during the procedure he was forcing me to do.
He explained he had a big business deal to close and that's a step to making his finances better in case I got pregnant again. I pleaded with him to at least come with me, to hold my hand through the pain, but he had said I was being insensitive.
I shut my eyes as hot uncontrolled tears rolled down my cheek.
I don't want to believe it.
Max wouldn't… he couldn't have asked the doctor to take out my womb during that procedure. He wouldn't do that to me. He knew how much I loved children and longs to have mine.
He had watched me swallow several fertility pills, month after month. He had held me as I cried over every negative test. He had watched me cry that I haven't been able to get pregnant again. He had cuddled me in his arms and had told me I would get pregnant one day. He had told me we still had time. He had told me he wasn't in a hurry and that our babies will come at the right time. He had blamed himself for asking me to abort the first one.
But all this time… he knew.
He knew I didn't…
My chest tightened violently.
I opened my mouth gasping for air.
I couldn't breathe.
I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. My throat hurts, my chest burns. But all that came out were gasps. My chest heaved up and down from the pain of betrayal. From all the lies. From deceit.
“Ma'am…” the doctor's voice came out softly, hesitant, “... there's still more,”
My eyes slowly opened as I stared at him.
More?
What more could Max have possibly done to me?
He flipped through my file and frowned deeply. “ You also didn't authorize the removal of part of your liver?” he asked carefully.
I froze. My mind blanked. My lips parted, but no sound still came out.
“And a kidney?” he added, his voice heavier this time. “It’s missing too. Likely removed. There are scars consistent with surgical extraction.”
My body went completely cold. A shiver crawled up my spine even though I couldn’t move, chilling me from the inside out. My fingers trembled against the sheets I couldn’t even feel.
I forced myself to blink hard twice — panic setting in. No. No, I hadn’t agreed to anything. I hadn't agreed to any of this.
Not my womb.
Not my kidney.
Not even part of my liver.
None!
The doctor’s jaw tightened. He sat on the edge of my bed, lowering his voice. “Then I’m afraid someone did this without your consent. And given the circumstances…” He paused, watching my reaction closely. “…I’d say your husband likely arranged it.”
Max.
My Max.
The same man who smiled at me every morning like I was his whole world, who kissed my forehead when I slept, who promised to always protect me— had stolen pieces of me while I trusted him wholeheartedly.
The truth hit harder than I expected.
I immediately went into a full panic attack. My chest convulsed. The heart monitor beside me started beeping loudly. The doctor's mouth was moving but I couldn't make out a single word he was saying.
I saw the doctor inject something into my IV. My body went heavy instantly, my lashes falling shut against my will.
Tears slipped down the sides of my face, soaking into the pillow beneath me as I slowly welcomed the darkness once again.
- Writer
