Chapter 4 THE LOST BABY

The pain in Lola's chest came out of nowhere, clear as day. The doctor's voice pounded in her memory-it felt like someone ripped open a wound that was barely healing.

The hospital room blurred at the edges. She couldn't shake that echo.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carter. We did everything we could."

Her fingers gripped the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. Lola's breath came short and shallow. The doctor's face-she still saw it in her mind. Gentle, careful, that look of pity. The look doctors wear when they'll never bring good news.

"You lost the baby due to excessive stress," he'd said, almost apologetic.

"Your body couldn't sustain the pregnancy under those conditions."

Stress. What a small, neat word for something that had eaten her whole life.

But Lola knew what stress really looked like. It looked like all those sleepless nights. Waiting and waiting for someone who wouldn't come home. Eating dinner in silence. A cold bed. The sharp scent of unfamiliar perfume lingering on Daniel's collar-he never bothered to hide it very well.

Her stomach twisted. All those months convincing herself she was just imagining things, telling herself he was busy, that she was paranoid. But her body knew before her mind would accept it.

That stress grew inside her, like a slow poison.

And now her baby was gone.

She snapped back to the present. The hospital room came into focus; Daniel stood by the bed, still as a statue. Vanessa was perched among the pillows, looking like some delicate, breakable princess.

And Lola? She felt like a ghost haunting someone else's life.

"You were only a convenient wife."

Daniel's words hung in the air, sharper than knives, echoing in her mind over and over. Each time they hurt more.

Just convenient. Not loved. Not wanted. Merely useful.

Lola forced herself to meet his eyes. Daniel looked immaculate-perfect suit, composed face, not a hint of regret.

No guilt. No discomfort. Just... blank. Like this was a meeting, not the loss of a child or a marriage. Like he was closing out a business deal.

"How long have you known?" she asked, barely louder than a whisper.

He frowned, annoyed. "Known what?"

"That I was pregnant."

He didn't answer at first, then shrugged like it meant nothing. "I found out recently."

Recently. That word stung. Distant, evasive. But Lola was too tired to care. Her legs wobbled. She crossed slowly to a chair against the wall and dropped down, feeling the cold metal snap through the thin fabric of her hospital gown.

She ached everywhere, inside and out. Her doctors said she needed rest. She wasn't resting. She was sitting here watching her husband disassemble their life, one piece at a time.

Vanessa's eyes trailed over her, coldly measuring every detail: Lola's sickly face, the way her hands shook, the plastic hospital band still locked around her wrist. Vanessa tilted her head, her words syrupy soft.

"You look terrible," she murmured, half-sympathy, half something else.

Lola stayed silent.

"You should probably lie down," Vanessa went on, her eyes drifting to Lola's stomach. "I heard what happened."

Of course she heard. Hospitals have thin walls; gossip flies fast.

"It's really tragic," Vanessa breathed, and for a second, she sounded almost sad. "But sometimes these things happen for a reason."

Lola's eyes rose, locking onto the slight smile curling on Vanessa's lips.

"What reason would that be?" she asked, voice steady.

Vanessa didn't skip a beat. "Maybe your body wasn't strong enough."

Her words dropped like a stone. Daniel just stood there, silent-no argument, no support-just letting it happen.

Lola wanted to laugh, bitter and empty. "My body wasn't strong enough," she repeated.

Vanessa nodded, slow and wise. "Pregnancy needs stability. Emotional balance. I've been very careful to avoid stress," she said, stroking her own belly as if illustrating a point.

Lola watched her. Something dark flickered behind her tired eyes.

"You mean like sleeping with someone else's husband?" Lola asked, almost conversational.

Daniel's jaw locked hard. "That's enough."

She turned to him, heart pounding so loud she thought he might hear it.

"Is it?" she challenged.

He drew himself even taller, glaring. "You're crossing a line."

A line? After everything? Her child, her marriage, her sense of self, all gone-and he was worried about lines.

"Tell me something," Lola pushed, still holding his gaze. "When the doctor told you I lost the baby... did you feel anything at all?"

The question sat heavy between them. Daniel looked away, watched the water snake down the window, trying to escape.

"You're not the only one capable of having children," he finally said. His words cut through her.

Lola felt her chest cave in. She couldn't catch her breath. Behind him, Vanessa shifted, that smile growing.

Daniel carried on, so calm it hurt. "We need to think about the future."

The future. Lola felt tears forming but she shoved them back. Not here. Not for them.

"Your future," she said. Quiet. Final.

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Vanessa rested both hands on her belly, deliberate and smug, eyes never leaving Lola. She smiled-this new, deepened smile that made Lola's stomach burn.

"Daniel is right about one thing," Vanessa said, almost kind.

Lola didn't react. Just watched.

Vanessa kept her hands on that gentle curve of her stomach, like it was the most precious thing in the room.

"Some women just aren't meant to be mothers," she whispered, sweet as poison.

Lola felt something inside her break for good.

Vanessa leaned back in the pillows, still stroking her stomach, gaze locked on Lola's crumbling face. She rested her hand there, loving, possessive-and drove the knife in the rest of the way.

"Unlike me."