Warmth Beckons, Spring Unfolds

The basement was cold, damp, and utterly lightless.

Sprawled on the icy concrete, I felt the pain in my body and the despair in my heart close over me like a cold, dark wave.

I knew. My child was gone. Again.

This child—whose existence I hadn’t even had time to confirm—had vanished from my life without a sound.

Why?

Why was fate doing this to me?

Curled on the ground, I was torn by waves of cramping pain. My consciousness began to blur.

In the darkness, I seemed to see that night from four years ago once more.

The same cold hospital. The same heart-rending pain.

Joe stood by my hospital bed, his face showing not a trace of grief, only impatience.

"Allison," he’d said, "stop pretending. It was just a miscarriage. Is all this drama really necessary? Jonathan is waiting for me at home."

Then he’d turned and walked away.

From start to finish, he never once asked if I was in pain.

I should have known then. I should have stopped clinging to any illusion about him.

I was too stupid. Too naive.

I thought nine years was enough time to warm even a stone.

But I forgot. Joe’s heart wasn’t stone. It was ice.

Ice that could never be warmed.

"Open the door… let me out…" Using my last shred of strength, I pounded on the cold metal. "Help… save my child…"

My voice was hoarse. The only response was endless darkness and silence.

I don’t know how long it lasted—only that I felt my own life force slowly ebbing away.

Just as I was about to give up, footsteps finally sounded outside.

Was it Joe?

Had he finally come to save me?

A flicker of hope ignited. Struggling up from the floor, I pressed against the door, my voice a weak rasp. "Joe… it’s me… open the door…"

The footsteps stopped outside.

From beyond the door came Pamela’s voice, choked with tears. "Joe, don’t go in… I’m scared… what if she hurts you again?"

Then Joe’s impatient reply. "What can she possibly do to me? Stop making a scene. Wait outside."

He had come.

A ridiculous sliver of expectation still lingered in my heart.

The lock turned. A sliver of light cut in, so bright it stung my eyes.

Joe’s tall frame filled the doorway.

He saw me, covered in blood, and froze. Then his brow furrowed. "What did you do to yourself?"

"I—" I tried to speak, to beg.

But Pamela’s voice rang out again, laced with a desperate finality. "Joe, if you go in there for her today, I’ll die right here in front of you!"

His steps halted.

He glanced back outside, then at me, collapsed in a pool of blood. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face.

That single flicker was all it took to shove me into the abyss.

I looked at him and laughed—a hollow, broken sound.

"Joe," I said, forcing every word out with the last of my strength. "If you dare step out that door today, I, Allison, will act as if I never knew you. There’s no going back from this."

My words seemed to stun him.

He looked at me, his expression unreadable.

In the end, he chose Pamela.

Slowly, he closed the door.

Shutting me, and my unborn child, inside this endless darkness.

With the final, resounding *clang* of the metal door, my world shattered completely.

Joe, you are truly merciless.

With your own hands, you killed your second child.

And with your own hands, you killed the woman who loved you for nine years.

In my last moment of awareness, I thought I heard frantic footsteps and Brenda’s panicked, desperate cry.

"Allison! Allison! Open the door!"

I woke again in a VIP hospital room.

The sharp smell of disinfectant turned my stomach.

Brenda sat by my bed, holding my hand, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Allison, you’re finally awake."

I stared at the ceiling, my gaze empty.

"The baby… is it gone?" My voice was a hoarse stranger’s.

Brenda was silent for a moment, then nodded, tears falling. "I’m sorry, Allison. I was too late."

I closed my eyes. A single tear traced a path from the corner of my eye.

I’d known, hadn’t I?

But hearing it confirmed still felt like having my heart torn in two.

"This is my fault," Brenda choked out. "I never should have dragged you into the mess that is Joe’s Family. I ruined you."

I shook my head, saying nothing.

This was all my own choice. I couldn’t blame anyone else.

The hospital room door opened, and Joe walked in.

Seeing me awake, an unnatural look crossed his face. "You’re awake? How do you feel?"

I didn’t look at him. I just spat out one cold word. "Leave."

His expression hardened, then settled back into its usual arrogant mask. "Allison, I know you’re upset, but don’t forget—you’re the one who caused a scene at Jonathan’s birthday party and stabbed Pamela with a knife. That’s why I—"

*Smack!*

A sharp slap cut him off.

Brenda stood up, trembling, her finger shaking as she pointed at him, eyes full of disappointment and rage. "You monster! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You killed your own child with your own hands!"

Joe was stunned. He held his cheek, staring at his mother in disbelief. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"I’m saying," Brenda enunciated each word with perfect clarity, "Allison was pregnant! Over two months along! You locked a pregnant woman in a basement and left her to die! Joe, are you fit to be a father? Are you even fit to be called a human being?"

Joe looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. He stood frozen in place.

He stared at me, his lips trembling, but no words came out.

I watched his shock and felt nothing.

It was too late.

Everything was far too late.

"The divorce papers," I said calmly. "I’ve already had my lawyer draft them. Sign them."

Brenda pulled a document from her bag and flung it at him. "Sign! Sign it right now! Joe’s Family has no place for a cold-blooded, heartless creature like you!"

Joe looked at the divorce agreement, then at me. For the first time, panic and fear flashed in his eyes.

"No… I won’t agree…" he muttered. "Allison, I—"

"Joe," I cut him off, my voice devoid of all warmth. "I don’t want to see you anymore. From now on, there is nothing between us. You go your way, and I’ll go mine."

With that, I pulled the covers over my head.

I didn’t want to see his hypocritical face. I didn’t want to hear his disgusting voice.

I just wanted to be alone—to quietly lick my wounds in peace.

I don’t know how much time passed before I heard the hospital room door close.

Brenda sat back down by my bed, gently patting my back. "Allison, it’s over now. From now on, as long as I’m here, no one will ever hurt you again."

I pushed the covers down and looked at her, forcing a smile uglier than any sob. "Brenda, thank you. And I’m sorry. I couldn’t last until the nine years were up."

"Silly child," she said, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. "You’ve already done more than enough. It’s Joe’s Family that failed you."

She took a card from her bag and pressed it into my hand. "There’s some money in here. Take it. Leave the city. Go somewhere no one knows you. Start over."