The Weight of His Favor

I had just let out a breath of relief when Lawrence's call came through.

Eloise's smug voice came through the line.

"Sylvie, your lie is pretty convincing. I can't believe you even got a doctor to play along with you. The pictures came out great, too.

"Lawrie's out shopping for clothes for me right now, and his phone is with me. I've already deleted those pictures. Did you really think you could use your baby as leverage to make him cave in?

"I won't let you have what you want!"

My heart sank. Suppressing the unease rising within me, I explained, "I'm not lying, and I don't want to compete with you. If you want Lawrence, you can have him. I simply want to protect my baby…"

Eloise huffed. "Don't you want to use that baby to keep Lawrie by your side? I won't let you have your way. Today, I'll show you who matters more to him—me or that baby in your belly!"

I asked, "Hold on. What are you trying to do? Hello?"

Eloise had hung up the phone and blocked me.

A terrible sense of dread crept over me. I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Sure enough, moments later, Dr. Clayton called the doctor. "Who is this imposter pretending to be Don Ardent's wife? I just spoke with him. He said his wife is perfectly fine. Whoever contacted me earlier was an impostor!"

He sounded livid. "I was going to make an exception and perform the surgery to save her baby. However, for a patient this deceitful, I wouldn't help her even if she was dying!"

The color drained from my face as I lunged forward and snatched the doctor's phone. "I didn't lie, Dr. Clayton! I have the Ardent family's token with me. If you'd just come and take a look—"

Yet, Dr. Clayton didn't listen to a single word I said and hung up on me.

Left with no other option, I turned to the doctor beside me, who looked just as helpless.

He said, "Ma'am, you need to go into surgery immediately. I may not be able to save your baby, but I'll do my best to save your uterus!"

"No! My baby…" I cried out in despair.

Refusing to give up, I tried calling Lawrence again. However, the automated message saying the call couldn't go through felt like a blade twisting through my heart.

Overwhelming fear and pain swallowed me whole, and everything went black.

…

When I came to, the air reeked of disinfectant. I could clearly feel it—my three-month-old baby was gone.

The doctor stood by my hospital bed and lamented, "I'm sorry, but we couldn't save your baby. The good news is that there was no damage to your uterus. You're still young. You'll be able to have children again in the future."

I stared blankly at the ceiling, resting my hand on my now-flat abdomen. Tears slid down from the corners of my eyes, soaking into the pillow.

We'd been married for three years, and only I knew how hard it had been to conceive this child. Alas, the baby I had waited three years for was gone.

"Where's the father of your baby? Shall I call him to look after you?" the doctor inquired gently.

With a lot of effort, I pulled out my phone, only to see a clean screen—no calls, and not even a single message. I had been unconscious for an entire day and night, and Lawrence hadn't reached out once.

Blinking back tears, I responded hoarsely, "It's alright. Thank you for the offer. My baby doesn't have a father anymore."

Right there and then, I was done with Lawrence once and for all. Our baby was gone, as was my love for him.