Chapter 4 No.4

Ellie POV:

The nausea hit me with a vengeance, bile rising in my throat. My head swam, the room spinning around me. I stumbled to the bathroom, collapsing over the toilet, dry-heaving until my muscles ached. The last few days had been a blur of forced smiles, hollow conversations, and excruciating agony. Damon was a ghost in my home, a specter of lies. Katina was worse, her texts chirpy, her calls filled with wedding plans. Each interaction was a fresh stab wound.

I clutched my stomach, a dull ache throbbing deep inside. The doctor's words echoed in my mind, "You're pregnant, Ellie. About three months along." Three months. A life growing inside me. Our baby. The very thought now felt like a cruel joke.

The phone rang, shattering the suffocating silence. It was Mr. Black, the private investigator. "Ms. Bradshaw, I've got some interesting findings for you. It appears your... friend... has a rather active social media presence under an alias."

He sent me a link. My fingers, still trembling, clicked. It was a private blog, an online diary. Katina's words spilled onto the screen, raw and venomous.

"Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. Always the perfect Ellie. Perfect parents, perfect grades, perfect boyfriend. She always had everything. And what did I have? Her scraps. Her leftover attention. Her pity."

My breath hitched. Pity? I had loved her. I had thought she was my sister.

"He saw me. Damon. He saw the real me. Not the shadow of Ellie. And he wants me. He craves me. She's so boring, so predictable. He told me. He told me he only proposed for her family's connections, for his startup's funding."

A cold, hard knot formed in my stomach. The blood drained from my face. This was it. The truth. The real reason. It wasn't love. It was a business transaction.

"She's so oblivious, flaunting her stupid engagement ring. I hate it. I hate her. He says he wants me to be his bride. He says he wants to give me the house, the one she thinks is hers."

The house. Our dream home. They talked about it on "The Den," about the housewarming gift. My vision blurred, hot tears stinging my eyes.

"He kissed me today. Right after he left her. He said he couldn't resist. She's too much, too naive. I'm his escape. His passion."

The words were a hammer blow, each sentence shattering another piece of my heart. I remembered all the times I'd covered for Katina, helped her with rent, lent her money, celebrated her small victories as if they were my own. I had built her up, believing in her, loving her unconditionally. And all this time, she had festered with resentment.

My stomach cramped, a sharp, searing pain ripping through me. It wasn't the nausea anymore. It was deeper, more intense. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I slid to the floor, clutching my abdomen. The pain was excruciating, mirroring the agony in my soul.

I needed to get to the hospital. Now. I crawled, then stumbled, to my car keys, the world grey and spinning. My hands fumbled with the ignition, my vision tunneling. The drive was a haze of pain and desperate gasps for air.

Then, a sudden, blinding flash of headlights. A screech of tires. The impact was violent, jarring my body, throwing me forward. My head hit something hard. But even in that split second of terror, my arms instinctively went to my stomach, a desperate shield for the life within me.

Darkness.

I woke to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the low hum of hospital machinery. My head throbbed, a dull ache behind my eyes. Damon was there, his face haggard, eyes red-rimmed. He looked genuinely distraught.

"Ellie, my love! Oh God, I was so worried." He rushed to my side, his voice thick with emotion. He reached for my hand, his grip tight, almost crushing.

"Mr. Velazquez arrived as soon as he heard, Ms. Bradshaw," a nurse chimed in, her voice gentle. "He was frantic. He even tried to stop traffic to get here faster, got a few scrapes himself trying to get to you."

I looked at Damon's arm. Sure enough, a nasty bruise was blossoming on his forearm. He looked at me, his eyes wide and pleading. "I thought... I thought I'd lost you both. Our baby..." His voice choked.

His words, his look of genuine anguish, almost swayed me. Almost. But Katina's blog, the raw venom of her words, was a fresh wound.

"The police are here," I said, my voice hoarse, ignoring his attempts at comfort. "I want to file a report. I think I remember the car that hit me. It felt... deliberate."

Damon's face, already pale, went ashen. "No, no, Ellie. Let me handle it. I'll take care of it. This is too much for you right now." He tried to smile, but it was a strained, unnatural grimace.

"No," I insisted, my voice gaining strength. "I want to file a report. Now."

He hesitated, a flicker of panic in his eyes. "Ellie, please. Trust me. I'll make sure they pay. I'll use all my resources. Let me protect you." His tone was firm, almost demanding.

Before I could argue further, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then at me, a tight, controlled mask slipping over his features. "I... I have to take this. Important business call." He strode out of the room, his movements hurried, leaving a faint scent of Katina's perfume in his wake, a ghost of betrayal.

My eyes narrowed. No. I wouldn't let him. I ripped the IV from my arm, a sharp sting of pain, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my soul. I threw on my hospital gown, my body still aching, but driven by a cold, relentless fury. I had to follow him. I had to know. The truth, ugly and raw, was waiting.