Chapter 3

I woke up in an emergency shelter. The air smelled of antiseptic and fear.

My side throbbed. A deeper ache resonated in my belly.

A doctor, a kind-faced woman, was checking my vitals.

"You're lucky," she said softly. "But the baby..."

She didn't need to finish. I knew.

The emptiness inside me was a hollow confirmation.

Jake stormed in later, his face a mask of fury. Chloe trailed behind him, leaning heavily on a crutch, her dog, Buddy, cradled in her other arm.

"What the hell, Sarah?" Jake started, his voice loud enough to turn heads.

"Are you faking it? Trying to get my attention?"

Pain, sharp and fierce, wasn't just physical anymore.

"Faking it?" I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I was hit, Jake. By your truck."

"I was saving Chloe!" he snapped. "She was injured!"

Chloe sniffled, "Oh, Jake, it was so awful. And Buddy, he' s so traumatized." She petted the dog, who looked perfectly fine.

"I want a divorce, Jake," I said, the words tasting like ash.

He scoffed. "Don't be dramatic. We' ll talk when you' re not trying to manipulate me."

He turned his attention to Chloe, fussing over her, getting her water, a blanket.

Buddy yipped. Chloe cooed at him.

"My dog needs a vet, Jake," Chloe said, her eyes wide and pleading. "He' s barely breathing."

Buddy wagged his tail.

Jake nodded. "Of course. We'll find one."

He didn't ask about me. He didn't ask about our baby.

He didn't know it was gone.

The doctor returned. "Mrs. Peterson, we need to discuss your condition."

Jake waved a dismissive hand. "Later. Chloe needs me."

They left.

The kind doctor looked at me with pity. "The impact... it caused a miscarriage, Sarah. I'm so sorry."

Tears I didn't know I had left streamed down my face.

Chloe. Her dog. More important than his wife, his child.

This was the reality he chose. This was the reality I had to escape.