Pregnant With His Lies

I left Natasha's place alone, feeling numb and hollow. I walked the whole way home without even thinking to hail a cab.

By the time I got back, it was already late at night. A light rain had soaked my hair.

James was there, standing by the window with a cigarette. The moment he saw me, he crushed it out and hurried over.

"Jenna, where were you? I called you so many times, but you didn't answer. I was worried sick!"

I said nothing.

He suddenly pulled me into his arms, his voice trembling. "I was terrified just now. I hadn't heard a word from you, and I thought I was going crazy!"

When his hand brushed against my damp hair, panic flashed across his face, and he quickly led me to a couch. He fetched a towel before gently drying my hair.

"Jenna, I was too impulsive earlier. I lost control, but you have to believe that I didn't mean it. Natasha's your sister. You went too far with her. Her arm was so red that it became bruised."

"So you really think I did that to her?"

The words were barely out before his voice rose, sharp with anger. "Who else could it have been? You expect me to believe Natasha hurt herself?"

I turned my head and gave a cold smile. "Why not?"

He clenched his jaw, fury barely contained. The towel skimmed my cheek as he flung it violently to the floor.

"You're unreasonable!" With that, James stormed off.

I sat on the couch for what felt like forever, eventually dozing off.

Half-asleep, I felt him lift me and carry me to bed. His arm circled instinctively around my stomach as he softly hummed a lullaby.

In my dreamlike haze, I whispered, "James, did you know that today's my birthday?"

His hand froze against mine, his whole body going rigid.

"All these years, you've never once given me a birthday gift."

He leaned close, his voice low in my ear. "I know. I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

Much later, I opened my eyes wide in the dark.

The next morning, James left early.

I left too, calling a cab straight to the hospital where I had scheduled the abortion.

Before the surgery, I called my best friend, Abigail Goode, and asked her to stay with me. I told her to make sure I was moved to another ward as soon as the operation was over.

The doctor frowned at the ultrasound.

"The baby is too large for the medication to work. The only option now is a surgical abortion. But this procedure will inevitably have some impact on your body. Ms. Lowe, are you certain you want to go through with it?"

It felt like a stone was crushing my chest, and I couldn't catch my breath. After six months of carrying that baby, in the end, it had nothing to do with me.

Risks didn't matter anymore. If I kept going, it would kill me.

"Do it," I said.

They gave me anesthesia and wheeled me into the operating room.

My phone wouldn't stop buzzing—it was James calling. He must have realized I had vanished.

As I felt the life draining from my body bit by bit, my once rounded belly slowly flattened.

Even though the child had no blood ties to me, my heart still felt hollow, as if something precious had been ripped out.

Afterward, Abigail wheeled me out.

Just as we were about to leave, I saw James. He had tracked me down before hurrying to the hospital.

My phone buzzed with his text. "Jenna, are you at the hospital? Why wouldn't you go to ours for a proper checkup? Why come to a place like this?"

I sneered and typed back without hesitation. "Go check the operating room. You might find a surprise waiting for you."