Champagne Toast To My Dead Babies

The night I came home from the hospital after my ninth miscarriage was the night of the Thorne family foundation's annual charity gala.

My husband, Vincent Thorne, found me on the terrace.

In front of me, three champagne flutes stood empty.

His gray-blue eyes, usually so calm and self-possessed, were bloodshot, and his voice was rough. "Cora, the doctor warned you. Your uterine wall is paper-thin. You can't drink another drop."

I ignored him.

Slowly, deliberately, I took three more glasses and filled them to the brim.

I pushed one toward him.

The second, I slid in front of his adopted daughter, Kathleen Vance, who stood behind him looking angelic in a white, custom-designed gown.

The last glass, I lifted, watching Vincent through the shimmering liquid. I smiled.

There was no warmth in my smile, only the chilling certainty of an ending.

"Come."

"Let's raise a glass to my nine children who were never born."

————————

1

The smash of a champagne flute drew Vincent to the terrace.

"Everyone, out!"

His voice was quiet, but it held the unmistakable authority of a man in charge. The few guests who had been trying to console me exchanged uneasy glances before quietly slipping away, leaving the three of us alone.

"What in God's name are you trying to do?"

Vincent stared at me, his eyes filled with pain and confusion, as if I were some unreasonable madwoman.

Behind him, Kathleen Vance stood in her pristine white gown.

Her long hair spilled over her shoulders as she looked at me timidly, her eyes already red-rimmed.

I leaned nonchalantly against the railing, swirling the champagne in my glass.

"Your dear daughter seems so concerned about my 'delicate condition'."

"Well, I'll just have a few more drinks and give her something to really be concerned about."

The color drained from Kathleen's face, and fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Cora, I didn't mean it like that..."

A cold smile touched my lips, my gaze pinning her in place as I enunciated each word, "Then what did you mean?"

"Hoping I'd die sooner so you could become your father's one and only 'child'? Or are you hoping to take my place as the mistress of the Thorne household?"

Vincent's face turned to ice. "Cora! You're drunk! What nonsense are you talking about?"

Kathleen began to sob, her whole body shaking. "Dad, please don't blame Cora. It's all my fault!"

"I shouldn't have let the doctor tell her that her body might never..."

"Kathleen, shut up!" Vincent snapped.

Kathleen flinched as if truly frightened, her pitiful gaze fixed on him, but not before a flicker of coldness crossed her eyes. "Dad, are you yelling at me?"

"I was just worried about Cora... Fine, I won't say any more. I'll wait for you outside..."

She ran off crying, the perfect picture of a wronged waif.

Vincent took a deep breath, walked over, and knelt on one knee before me, taking the wine glass from my hand.

His fingertips brushed my palm, a warmth I had once cherished.

"Please, stop making a scene. Let's go home."

"Did you hear what she said? She was cursing me, saying I'll never be able to have children!" I shook his hand off.

"She's young and doesn't know any better. I spoiled her. You're the adult here, Cora. Don't stoop to her level."

A laugh burst from my lips, echoing across the empty terrace, sharp and desolate.

"Doesn't know any better?"

"She hasn't 'known any better' for five years. In those five years, I've had nine miscarriages."

"And you're telling me now, Vincent, that she just doesn't know any better?"

The composure on his face crumbled.

He tried to embrace me, his voice raspy.

"I'm sorry... I failed to protect you."

I was smiling, but my eyes were red, and my voice trembled.

"But you seem to forget who knelt and begged me, promising me a home!"

"You seem to forget who swore he would protect me and our children with his life!"

He pulled me into a crushing embrace, the force so strong it felt like he wanted to merge me into his very bones.

"It was me. I'm sorry... Trust me one more time, Cora. Just one last time, please? We'll get you the best treatment. Medical technology is so advanced now..."

I shoved him away, my expression hardening as I turned toward the exit.

"Vincent, it's her or me."

"If she is still in this house tomorrow, you will never see me again."