A Weight She Refused to Carry

When Shermaine woke up, she sat by the window, staring blankly. It felt like every tear she had left in her life had been shed at that moment.

She couldn't even begin to describe how she felt.

The good news was, she had been pregnant.

The bad news was, she had lost the baby.

For five years, Shermaine and Ezra had longed for a child. But those hopes were dashed every single time. After every disappointment, Ezra comforted Shermaine, telling her that maybe it just wasn't in the stars and that she shouldn't worry too much about it. Shermaine could see, though, that Ezra truly wanted a child.

She had tried every folk remedy and supplement. She had even, a lifelong skeptic, turned to praying.

No one had expected it, but she had managed to get pregnant.

Shermaine softly caressed her flat stomach, a wave of heartache washing over her.

Maybe it was better this way. The child would never have to grow up in a broken home.

Just then, the nurse entered with some medication. Seeing Shermaine's pale and sorrowful face, she sighed in resignation. "What's the use in regretting it now? Just be more careful next time," she said matter-of-factly. "When you try again, avoid taking any medication for your nerves, especially heavy sedatives. Even if the baby survived, there could have been deformities."

Shermaine's head buzzed, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

"Did the medication cause my miscarriage?" she asked, her voice shaking.

The nurse glanced at her, her expression puzzled. "Of course. Those meds have a heavy impact on adults, let alone a baby."

Shermaine let out a soft laugh, which grew louder, though her face remained drenched in tears.

She gripped the blanket tightly, her fingers turning white from the pressure. She wanted to scream, to let it all out, but she couldn't summon the strength. She just cried and laughed, as if losing her mind.

The nurse gave her a strange look, finished with the medication, and hurried out.

Shermaine collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and broken and her eyes full of despair. The last traces of love she had left for Ezra vanished.

When Ezra arrived at the hospital, Shermaine had already composed herself.

Aside from some slight redness and swelling around her eyes, there was no sign of anything being wrong in her appearance or behavior.

Ezra rushed in, his handsome face filled with concern. He was clearly out of breath, sweat beading on his forehead.

He stepped into the room, his worry overwhelming when he saw Shermaine's pale face.

"Shermaine, what happened? Why are you in the hospital?" His voice was tinged with panic.

He quickly added, "I had to deal with something at work last night, so I rushed out. I didn't want to wake you or worry you, so I didn't tell you."

Shermaine remained calm, carefully watching Ezra. His eyes were filled with worry and tenderness, but there was no hint of guilt.

When she didn't respond, Ezra's unease deepened. His voice faltered as he asked, "Shermaine, are you angry with me?"

She forced a weak smile, still slightly breathless. "Of course not."

She reached up and gently brushed Ezra's slightly messy hair. "It's nothing. I just woke up with a fever and didn't feel well, so I came to the hospital. Look how worried you are."

Ezra sighed in relief and pulled Shermaine into an affectionate embrace. "Shermaine, you have no idea how scared I was when I heard you were in the hospital."

What Ezra didn't see, however, was the emptiness in Shermaine's eyes as he held her. There was even a trace of disgust in her gaze.

From where she stood, she could clearly see the marks of intimacy on Ezra's neck.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her, and she pushed Ezra away.