My heart was broken. Seven years of love for
Mark died as I gave birth to his child.
I gave a bitter laugh, “Mark, it’s a boy. Go to
the nursery, prepare his crib.”
Mark coughed uncomfortably, “Of course, I’ll
take care of my son.”
Mark didn’t see Chloe’s face turn pale.
After hanging up, I smiled.
“Chloe, I know what your plan is. You’re
going to replace my baby with a fake one,
convincing Mark I cheated, silently killing our
child.”
“You delayed so I wouldn’t realize. The baby’s
life or death was irrelevant to you! You’d just
pretend, your people would bring in a
replacement, killing two birds with one
stone.
“This hospital only has one room for
newborns: the nursery. Mark has perfect
memory. With him there, your people won’t
dare act. Your plan is foiled Chloe. To save
face and your career, you have to save my
child.”
Chloe panicked, removed the placenta,
frantically untangling the umbilical cord.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Pain beyond my endurance enveloped me. I
refused to pass out, I needed to outsmart
Chloe and save my child.
I won. My body felt as if thousands of needles
were piercing me, my brain went blank.
Before I fainted, I saw Chloe’s sweating,
terrified face.
“What’s happening? Why is it purple? How do
I untie this cord? I don’t remember! What do I
do?”
“Hey! Baby, don’t die! If you die, it’ll ruin me!
Your dad will hate me!”
The door slammed open. Mark stormed in, his
face grim, “What did you say?”
I coughed up blood and fainted.
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Chapter Two
I woke up in recovery, Mark’s eyes bloodshot
as he clutched my hand.
He was ecstatic to see me awake. “Lana,
you’re awake! Thank God! You’re okay!
You’re okay!”
I threw off his hand. “Where’s the baby?”
A flicker of grief crossed his face. “The
baby… the baby’s fine! In the nursery, waiting
for you to get better. It’s a girl! Beautiful, just
like you!”
I scoffed, looking into his eyes. “Mark, I’m
asking again, where’s the baby?”
He sighed. “Honey, I don’t care what
happened to the baby, all that matters is you!
Get better, we can have another one! But if
you’re gone… what am I supposed to do?”
My heart felt numb, a hollow ache in my
chest. My baby was dead. I’d heard Chloe
admit it before I fainted.
He held me close, soothing me. “Lana, it’s my
fault. I’m so sorry. Hit me, yell at me, just get better. We’ll try again next year, okay?”
I stared at him, the man I’d loved for seven
years.
“Mark, let’s get a divorce.”
“What?” He stared at me, dumbfounded.
“Honey, I know losing the baby hurts, but it
was an accident. The doctor said the
umbilical cord wrapping around the neck was
unlikely. Just forget about this baby, let’s
start over, okay?”
He held my hand, slapping himself repeatedly.
“Honey, hit me, but don’t leave me.”
I felt nothing.
So it was an accident.
Chloe had turned off the OR cameras, burying
my ordeal. The hours of surgery without
anesthesia, the gaping wound, the suffocating
baby–all dismissed as an “accident.”
I felt pathetic and ridiculous. My suffering was
invisible, my seven years of devotion to a man
who wasn’t worth it–giving up my career to
be a stay–at–home wife, enduring the pain of
pregnancy, sleepless nights for ten months.
Let this farce end.
“Mark, I’m tired. Let’s go to the courthouse
and get this over with. Don’t make me say it
again.”
“No!”
He jumped up. “No! Lana, we’ve been
together for seven years! You’re divorcing me
over a baby? I can’t accept it!”
The door burst open. Chloe, disheveled,
rushed in.
“Mark, Lana, don’t fight because of me!”
“It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been concerned
about Lana’s feelings and taken on the
surgery, maybe the baby would have survived!
