A Love of Despair

The hospital bustled with activity as I numbly followed the nurse's instructions to sit on the bench. My hand instinctively moved to my abdomen, where my baby had once been growing.

It had been three months since my last period after losing my fully formed child. Worried there might be lasting complications, I finally came to get checked.

As I stared ahead blankly, a familiar figure caught my eye. It was my husband, Nicholas Zimmer, carrying a child about five years old. The child had brownies smeared all over his face and held one piece in each hand. A woman stood beside them, gently wiping the boy's mouth with a handkerchief.

Nicholas stood tall and commanding; the woman exuded warmth and grace, and the boy looked adorable with his rosy cheeks. They looked like the picture-perfect family—at least to everyone else.

Even though it was an unbearable sight to me, I still watched them, clutching the hem of my coat tightly.

When the boy suddenly whined about needing to use the bathroom, Nicholas smiled helplessly and carried him away. The woman watched them leave with a smile, and she turned and met my gaze.

It was Anna Stevens, Nicholas' "friend" who had recently lost her husband and moved back from the countryside with her son, Liam O'Neill, six months ago. With no one to lean on, Nicholas had gone out of his way to help her and her child.

Anna's smile grew wider, with a hint of smugness. There was something almost mocking in her expression as she approached me. She asked, "Do you have a minute?"

The crowded lobby was not ideal for conversation, so we headed to the hospital's rooftop. The March wind was still bone-chilling, and I silently pulled my coat tighter around myself.

"If you have something to say, say it. I have an appointment to get to," I said.

At the mention of "appointment", Anna raised her eyebrows. Her smirk seemed to deepen, and I even noticed a cruel glint in her eyes. It was as if she was savoring some unspoken joke.

"An appointment, huh? Do you really think your condition can be cured?" she asked.

My heart skipped a beat as an ominous feeling crept in, though I maintained my composure. I replied, "The doctor said I'll recover soon if I take my medicine and rest well."

Anna laughed as if she had heard a joke. She said, "Nick and the doctors have been lying to you, and you're naive enough to believe you'll recover."

She paused, her eyes turning sharp before delivering the devastating news. "When you were rushed to the hospital that day with complications during labor, you were bleeding heavily. The doctors had to remove your uterus to save your life."

She continued, "Tell me, can you even call yourself a woman without a uterus? Nancy Lawson, you're practically worthless now!"

I shook my head widely, and my eyes widened in disbelief. "No… No! You're lying! You're just trying to come between me and Nick. He would never keep this from me. I will recover—I know I will!"

I was not sure if I was trying to convince Anna or myself. Yet, no matter how hard I insisted, the pieces started to fall into place, and images began flooding my mind—the unusual changes in my body, Nicholas' rare moments of tenderness, and the guilt that occasionally crossed his face.

Anna gripped my shoulders, her beautiful face radiating triumph. "Nick doesn't care about you at all! That day when you called him to come home after your fall, I was there.

"When I tearfully told him Liam had a high fever and needed to go to the hospital immediately, he chose us without hesitation, abandoning you!"

I stumbled backward in shock. On Christmas, while military wives and their families were attending the community event at the base's auditorium, I was alone at home. That day, Nicholas had been busy handling things at the station.

At seven months pregnant, I had slipped and fallen. Yet, there was no one around to help. In desperation, I called Nicholas, begging him to come home and take me to the hospital.

He had assured me he was on his way, and I managed to crawl to the couch, sweat pouring down my face as I clung to consciousness. However, the agony became too much, and I passed out.

When I finally woke up, the doctor regretfully informed me the delay in getting to the hospital had cost my baby's life.