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Jane's pov
His lies
The room was silent, too silent, and my thoughts kept circling back to him Christian. Every moment, every effort, every sacrifice I had made over the years felt like it meant nothing now. I had twisted myself into knots, trying to be what he wanted. A good wife. A loving partner. But nothing I ever did could compete with Amanda, the ghost that had haunted our marriage from the start.
How many nights had I stayed up, waiting for him to come home, only to hear his excuses? How many times had I swallowed my pride, hoping that one day he'd look at me the way he used to talk about her?
I sighed, rubbing my temples as the reality of it all settled deeper into my chest. I looked down at the prescription papers and the small bag of medicine on the chair beside me. I couldn't stay here any longer. I needed to leave.
Grabbing the papers, I stood and headed for the door. The hospital smelled like antiseptic, and every step felt heavier than the last. I stepped outside and hailed a cab, the cold air stinging my cheeks.
"Miss Holmes, wait!"
His voice stopped me for a moment, but I didn't look back. I couldn't. Did he care now? No, of course not. If he cared, he wouldn't have ignored my texts. He wouldn't have made it clear where his priorities lay.
"Miss, where to?" the cab driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
"Just drive," I said softly, leaning my head against the window.
When I got home, the emptiness of the house hit me. Everything felt off, and I started feeling unwell almost immediately. A sharp pain twisted in my stomach, and I stumbled toward the bathroom.
"Not again," I whispered, clutching the sink for support.
I gagged violently, blood spilling from my mouth as the room spun around me. My knees gave out, and the last thing I remembered was the cold tile floor pressing against my cheek as everything went black.
When I woke up, I was in my room, still in the same clothes I had worn to the hospital. The dried blood on my shirt made my stomach churn, and I felt weak, shaky. How did I get here?
I pushed myself off the bed, wincing at the ache in my body. The faint smell of food wafted through the air. I walked to the door, holding onto the wall for support, and made my way downstairs.
In the kitchen, the sight stopped me cold.
Christian was there, chopping vegetables, and Amanda was standing beside him, stirring something in a pot. They looked so at ease, like they belonged there, like I was the stranger in my own home.
Amanda was the first to notice me. Her smile was bright, almost smug. "Well, look who's awake," she said, nudging Christian lightly.
He turned, his expression unreadable. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft but distant.
I ignored them both, walking to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. I wasn't in the mood for his fake concern or her smug little smirks.
"Jane," Christian said, stepping toward me. "You don't look good. Are you sure"
"I'm fine," I cut him off, brushing past him.
"Jane, stop," he said, his tone sharpening as he followed me out of the kitchen.
I didn't stop. I headed straight back to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Of course, he wasn't far behind.
"Jane, what the hell is going on?" he demanded. "You can't keep ignoring me. You owe me an explanation. Why the hell would you terminate our baby without even telling me?"
I turned to face him, my anger bubbling to the surface. "Oh, don't act like you care, Christian. You made it very clear how you felt about this baby. Don't come in here pretending to give a damn now."
"What are you even talking about?" he snapped, his frustration evident. "I never said I didn't want the baby. I didn't text you, and I sure as hell didn't tell you to do this!"
"Really?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're going to stand there and deny it? After everything you said, after ignoring me for hours while you played house with Amanda?"
Christian groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Jane, I didn't get any texts from you. I didn't even see your calls. Look."
He pulled out his phone and held it out to me. "There's nothing here. No missed calls, no messages. Nothing."
I stared at the phone, but I didn't move to take it. "How convenient," I said, my voice flat.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Maybe you didn't even send them. Maybe you're just making all of this up in your head."
My chest tightened at his words, the accusation hanging heavy in the air. "You think I'm lying?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Christian's face softened for a moment, but he didn't back down. "I'm saying something's not adding up. Let's figure it out together. Show me your phone."
I grabbed my phone from my bag and unlocked it, scrolling to my call logs. My heart sank. The calls were gone. I switched to my texts, my hands trembling, but they were wiped clean too.
"Well done, Christian," I said, holding up the blank screen. "I see how far you're willing to go. Deleting my messages? Erasing my call logs? Really?"
He looked genuinely surprised. "Jane, I didn't touch your phone. I swear to God. Maybe... maybe something's wrong with your phone."
"Of course," I said bitterly. "Because nothing is ever your fault, is it?"
He stepped closer, his voice rising. "You're being impossible! I didn't do anything to your phone, and I didn't tell you to terminate the baby. Why the hell would I ever say that?"
I was too tired to argue anymore. "You know what, Christian? Believe whatever you want. I don't care anymore."
Before he could respond, another sharp pain shot through my stomach. I clutched my side, doubling over slightly.
"Jane, stop this," Christian said, his voice cold. "You're fine. Stop pretending."
I straightened up, glaring at him. "You're unbelievable."
Just then, Amanda's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Christian? Can you come here for a second?"
Without hesitation, he turned and left the room, leaving me standing there, clutching my stomach.
I could hear him in the kitchen, his voice soft and caring as he spoke to Amanda. It was everything I had ever wanted from him, and he gave it to her without a second thought.
Tears burned my eyes as I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. I had spent years hoping for a love like that, and now, I realized I had been chasing something that was never mine to begin with.