If I Can't Make You Stay

I forced a small smile and said casually, "Pregnant women get emotional. It'll pass in a moment."

Quentin let out a breath of relief.

"Good. I forgot to ask—what kind of locket do you want? How about a star-shaped one? Supplies are tight these days; simpler designs are better."

I froze, surprised he cared enough to ask. If only he had cared this much before.

"Sure," I said softly. "Whatever you decide."

He nodded, reassured, and headed for the door. But just before he stepped out, he turned again.

"You're really okay?"

I parted my lips. Suddenly, a thin thread of hope rose inside me.

"If I weren't okay… would you stay with me?"

He paused—only for a heartbeat—then smiled.

"Cammy, don't be ridiculous. Rita's still waiting for me at the hospital. Go to bed early. I'm leaving."

The door closed. And I finally broke.

I cried for choosing the wrong man.

I cried for how foolish I was—still holding out hope for someone who had already shown me the ending.

I cried because, deep down, I had known the truth all along.

That night, I packed every last one of my belongings. The divorce paperwork hadn't come through yet. But I was exhausted. Completely and utterly drained.

Before bed, I emptied the bottle of soybeans and soaked them overnight.

The next morning, as I ate the mushy beans, a message from Quentin arrived.

He had someone tell me the baby's locket was ready. I could pick it up at the hospital.

When I arrived, I went straight to Rita's ward. He wasn't there—probably out getting food.

Rita smiled brightly.

"Cammy, are you looking for Quentin? Do you need something from him?"

I tugged at the corner of my lips, keeping my voice even.

"I'm here for the baby's locket. Do you know where he put it?"

She let out a little melodramatic "ah," then lifted her foot from under the blanket. Around her ankle was a string. Dangling from it was a delicate locket.

It was the locket Quentin had promised me. A simple star-shaped locket.

"You mean this one?" she asked sweetly. "Quentin gave it to me as an anklet. Pretty, isn't it?"

Her smug smile blurred at the edges as my vision wavered.

My baby was gone.

My husband didn't love me.

All I wanted was a locket. Just a small blessing I could bury with my baby who never had the chance to be born…

Just that. Only that…

I didn't know how I made it out of the hospital. By the time I reached home, my voice had been cried hoarse—I couldn't make a sound.

Inside, I took out a sheet of stationery and wrote down everything I hadn't finished yet. Tasks I hoped Quentin would complete for me… for the sake of our marriage, if nothing else.

After checking again and again that I hadn't missed anything, I picked up my luggage and left the compound.

A guard, just ending his shift, hurried over and offered to carry my bags.

I refused.

The rest of this road—I wanted to walk on my own.

Meanwhile, Quentin returned to the ward with lunch boxes in hand.

"Rita, did Cammy stop by while I was gone?"

She smiled and pulled her foot back under the blanket.

"No, no one came."

He nodded and opened the lunch box.

"Let's eat. Did you put the locket away safely for me? I'll bring it to Cammy when I go home this afternoon."

She hummed in reply and took the food.

A sudden knock sounded.

A nurse stepped inside.

"Which one of you is family to Cammy Mason? She forgot to take her post-miscarriage medication."