Sisters Don’t Forgive — Destroying Our Betrayer Mates

Pain exploded through my abdomen in waves, each contraction more violent than the last. Blood pooled beneath me on the cold marble floor, and I could feel our baby—our precious child—slipping away with each passing second.

With shaking fingers, I managed to unlock my phone and hit Nathaniel's contact. The phone rang once before the line went dead.

He'd hung up on me.

I stared at the screen in disbelief, my vision blurring as another wave of agony tore through me. He hadn't even listened. Hadn't heard the terror in my voice, the desperate way I'd gasped his name. He'd simply assumed I was calling to complain about his departure and cut me off without a second thought.

My hands trembled as I tried to call again, but this time the phone went straight to voicemail. The automated greeting felt like a slap across my face—cheerful and professional while I lay dying on our foyer floor.

"Nathaniel," I gasped into the phone, my voice breaking. "Please... something's wrong with the baby. There's so much blood, and I can't... I can't..." Another contraction seized me, so violent that I dropped the phone, my words cutting off in a strangled cry.

The device clattered across the marble, just out of reach. I crawled toward it, leaving a trail of blood behind me, my silk dress now soaked crimson. Every movement sent fresh agony through my core, but I had to try again. Had to make him understand.

With my last reserves of strength, I managed to redial his number. This time, he answered on the second ring.

"Ashley, what the hell—"

"Nathaniel, please," I sobbed into the phone. "I fell down the stairs. The baby—"

"Oh, for crying out loud," he interrupted, his voice sharp with irritation. "Really? You're going to fake being sick now? While I'm dealing with a genuine life-or-death emergency?"

The words hit me like physical blows. Fake being sick. As if the blood spreading beneath me, the life draining from our child, was some elaborate performance.

"I'm not faking anything," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please, just come home. Something's really wrong—"

"You know what's wrong?" His voice rose, taking on that cold, authoritative tone he used when he wanted to end an argument. "You're jealous. You can't stand that I'm helping someone else instead of catering to your every whim on our anniversary. Well, guess what, Ashley? The world doesn't revolve around you."

I tried to speak, to make him understand, but he was on a roll now, his words flowing like venom.

"Sienna's dog is actually dying. There are innocent lives at stake here—a few puppies are lives too, you know. Can't you stop being so selfish for once? Can't you think about someone other than yourself?"

"Nathaniel—" I gasped, but the line went dead.

He'd hung up on me again. And this time, when I tried to call back, the phone went straight to voicemail. He'd turned it off completely.

I lay there on the cold floor, staring at my phone's dark screen, feeling something inside me break that had nothing to do with my physical injuries. The man I'd loved for three years, the father of the child I was losing, had just called me selfish while I bled out on our foyer floor.

Puppies. He'd chosen puppies over his own child.

My vision was starting to fade around the edges, but I forced myself to focus. If Nathaniel wouldn't help me, I had to find someone who would. With trembling fingers, I scrolled through my contacts until I found Daisy's name.

She answered on the first ring.

"Ashley? What's up, babe? How was the anniversary dinner?"

The sound of her warm, familiar voice broke something loose inside me. A sob tore from my throat, raw and desperate.

"Daisy," I managed to whisper. "I need help. I fell down the stairs, and there's blood everywhere, and the baby—"

"Oh my God, Ashley! Where are you? Are you at home?"

"Yes," I gasped. "In the foyer. I can't move, and Nathaniel—" My voice broke. "He won't come home. He thinks I'm faking it."

"That bastard," Daisy snarled, and I could hear her moving, keys jingling, a door slamming. "I'm on my way. Hold on, honey. Just hold on."

"Daisy, I think—" Another wave of pain crashed over me, and I could feel more blood flowing. "I think I'm losing the baby."

"No," she said fiercely. "Don't you dare give up. I'm in my car now. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay? Keep talking to me."

But I could barely keep my eyes open. The pain was becoming distant now, replaced by a strange floating sensation. The chandelier above me seemed to blur and shift, its crystal teardrops catching the light like stars.

"Ashley? Ashley, talk to me!"

I tried to respond, but my voice came out as barely a whisper. "Hurry."

Time became fluid after that. I drifted in and out of consciousness, aware only of the spreading coldness beneath me and the fading flutter of movement in my belly. Our child—the little life I'd felt kicking just hours ago during dinner—was growing still.

The sound of screeching tires and a car door slamming brought me back to awareness. Footsteps running up our front walk, then Daisy's voice shouting my name.

"Ashley! Oh God, Ashley!"

The front door burst open, and suddenly Daisy was kneeling beside me, her face pale with shock. She took in the blood, my twisted position on the floor, the way I was cradling my belly.

"Jesus Christ," she breathed, already pulling out her phone. "I'm calling 911."

"The baby," I whispered, meeting her eyes. "Daisy, I can't feel the baby moving anymore."

Her face crumpled for just a moment before she forced it back into determined lines. "We're going to get you to the hospital. Both of you are going to be fine."

But even as she spoke the words, I could see the truth in her eyes. The growing pool of blood beneath me, the stillness in my womb, the gray pallor of my skin—we both knew it was already too late.

As the sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer with each second, I closed my eyes and felt the last of my hope drain away along with my blood. Somewhere across town, my husband was playing hero for another woman's dog while his own child died on our foyer floor.

The man who'd promised to love and protect me had chosen puppies over our baby.

And in that moment, as consciousness began to slip away, I felt something cold and hard crystallize in my chest where my heart used to be.