He Chose Them, I Lost Everything

Dorian Warner POV:

Even after the doctor had checked Cael over and declared it was just a stomachache from too much candy, a gnawing unease coiled in my gut. I couldn't shake the image of Adeline' s face, pale as death, her eyes wide with a pain I didn' t understand.

I left Brittny and Cael in the pediatric waiting room and walked out into the main hospital corridor, needing air, needing space.

That' s when I heard them. Two nurses talking by the water cooler.

"Did you hear about that woman in OB?" one said, her voice low. "The one who got into a fight in the hallway? Some kid apparently ran into her."

My blood went cold.

"It was awful," the other nurse chimed in. "She miscarried, right there on the floor. Lost the baby. There was so much blood…"

The words slammed into me with the force of a physical blow. Blood. Adeline. The OB department. No. It couldn' t be.

My heart started hammering against my ribs, a frantic, wild drumbeat of pure terror. I pushed past the nurses, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and sprinted down the hallway to where I had left her.

The floor was clean. Too clean. But on the white wall, just above the baseboard, was a dark, reddish-brown smear.

Blood.

The stain transfixed me. It was a testament to a horror I had refused to see. My legs felt like lead. I stumbled forward, my hand reaching out as if I could wipe it away, erase what had happened.

A janitor was mopping the floor nearby. I grabbed his arm, my voice a strangled croak. "The blood. The woman who was here. Who was it?"

He looked at me, startled by my wild-eyed panic. "Some lady, I don' t know her name. Had an accident."

"Was her name Adeline?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Adeline Campos?"

I was chanting it in my head. Please say no, please say no.

"She wasn' t pregnant," I muttered to myself, a desperate, insane denial. "We couldn' t… not after the first time. The doctor said it would be difficult."

My mind flashed back years ago, to another hospital, another loss. It had been my fault then, too. I' d been working too much, stressed and exhausted, and I' d gotten into a stupid argument with her while she was driving. She' d been so upset she ran a red light. We lost that baby at ten weeks. The guilt had been a cancer in my soul ever since.

The janitor stared at me like I was crazy. "Look, man, I don' t know. I just clean the floors." He shook my hand off his arm and pushed his cart away. "You' ve got issues."

"Dorian!"

Brittny' s voice cut through the fog of my panic. She ran toward me, Cael trailing behind her.

"There you are! I was so worried," she cried, throwing her arms around me. Her body was trembling. "When you ran off like that, I thought something terrible had happened."

Cael latched onto my leg, his face buried in my pants. "Daddy, don' t leave us," he sobbed.

Their tears, their fear, their need-it was an anchor, pulling me back from the abyss of my own terror. The janitor, who had paused down the hall, gave me a look of disgust, shook his head, and walked away. He saw what I wanted to see: a man with his family.

I didn't say Adeline's name. I let them lead me away from the bloodstain on the wall.

Adeline Campos POV:

I woke up to the steady, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The first thing I saw was Jaclyn' s face, her eyes red and swollen, tear tracks staining her cheeks.

She was holding my hand, her grip a lifeline in the sterile white emptiness of the hospital room.

"Oh, Addie," she sobbed, fresh tears spilling over. "I' m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn' t have said anything. I shouldn' t have made him angry."

I squeezed her hand, a weak flicker of pressure. I tried to smile, but my lips felt like cracked porcelain.

"It' s not your fault, Jacs," I whispered, my throat raw.

I looked down at my stomach, hidden beneath the thin hospital blanket. It felt hollow. Empty.

"It' s okay," I said, the words a lie I needed to believe. "We weren' t going to keep it anyway. Not like this."

The memory of Dorian' s back as he walked away, leaving me to bleed, was burned into my mind. It was a brand on my soul.

I turned my head to look at Jaclyn, my eyes clear and cold. The grief was still there, a vast, black ocean inside me. But now, floating on its surface, was something else. Something hard and sharp.

Resolution.

"Jacs," I said, my voice gaining strength. "Did you bring what I asked for?"

She nodded, her expression grim. She reached into her purse and pulled out a manila envelope.

I took it from her, my fingers steady.

He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be responsible for Brittny and her son. Fine.

I was going to give him something to be responsible for, too. I was going to send him a gift. A parting gift from me, and from the child he had abandoned.

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