Chapter 2 drowning in the echoes

Chapter 2: Dronwning in the echoes

After a long midnight of tears and emotional traumatized , i could wait for the hospital to open. I went to the hospital by 8:00 a.m. to see Dr. Williams. 

I needed answers. I needed something to hold onto, something that wasn’t slipping through my fingers like everything else in my life.

The hospital was different from the one my mother was in new walls, new faces, new hope. I clutched my bag tightly as I sat across from Dr. Williams, my throat dry, my hands clammy. When he finally looked up from my file, his eyes were calm, steady. I wished I could borrow that steadiness.

I took a shaky breath and let the words spill out. “Doctor, I need to know. A few years ago, I had complications… I was told I might never conceive again. But I need to be sure. I need to know if that’s true or if there’s something, anything, I can do.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “To determine that, we’ll need to run some tests,” he said gently. “We’ll start with a pelvic ultrasound to check the condition of your uterus and ovaries. Then, we’ll do a hormonal blood test to assess your reproductive health. Lastly, we might conduct an HSG—hysterosalpingography—to check for any blockages in your fallopian tubes.”

I swallowed hard. Tests. More waiting. More uncertainty. But I had no choice. “Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s do it.”

The next few hours felt like a blur. The cold gel of the ultrasound pressed against my stomach, the quiet beeps of machines, the pinch of the needle as my blood was drawn every moment dragged, stretching my anxiety tighter.

By the time I sat back in Dr. Williams’ office, my heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. He flipped through the test results, his face unreadable, his silence stretching like a noose around my throat.

Then he sighed, placed the file down, and met my gaze.

His eyes were softer now, almost pitying.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But according to these results… you never conceived.”

My breath hitched.

He continued, his voice steady but merciless. “Your ovaries are no longer producing eggs. There’s no viable reserve left. Medically speaking, you can’t conceive naturally.”

The world around me collapsed.

I blinked at him, my mind refusing to process his words. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head violently. “No, that’s not true.”

My nails dug into the chair. The room spun. I couldn’t breathe.

“I know this is difficult to hear,” he said, his tone professional, detached, like he hadn’t just taken a knife and sliced through my very existence.

Difficult? Difficult?

A raw, strangled sob ripped from my throat as I lunged forward, gripping his lab coat with trembling hands. “No! You don’t understand! I need to have a child! There has to be something…anything!” My voice cracked, hysterical. “I’ll pay! I’ll pay whatever it costs! Just just give me something! A drug, a surgery, an injection….please!”

Tears blurred my vision as I clung to him, my body shaking with desperation. “You don’t get it,” I sobbed, gripping the fabric of his coat tighter, as if I could wring a miracle from him. “That bastard John he stole everything from me! He used me! And Mercy that snake my own cousin! They betrayed me! They ruined my life! I can’t let them take this from me too!”

I was choking on grief, on rage, on the unbearable truth that life had left me empty. Barren.

Dr. Williams gently tried to pry my fingers from his coat, his voice calm, measured. “I know this is painful, but ”

“No!” I shrieked, my voice breaking. “I won’t accept this! I can’t accept this! I’ll do anything, Doctor! Please! Please don’t tell me it’s over!”

My knees buckled, and I sank to the cold hospital floor, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating me, crushing me under the weight of a future that no longer existed.

I rocked back and forth, shaking, whispering broken curses between sobs.

“John, you bastard… May you never know peace. May everything you love turn to dust in your hands. And Mercy you wretched, disgusting snake…..may you never carry life within you. May you never know a day of joy.”

Dr. Williams stood helplessly before me, his face tight with concern, but I didn’t care.

Let him watch. Let the entire hospital hear me wail.

Because what was left of me to protect?

What was left of me at all?

As I stepped out of the hospital, I grasped the medical report and test results tightly in my hand, and a torrent of tears streamed down my face.

Dr. Williams’ words wouldn’t stop ringing in my head.

“Your ovaries are no longer producing eggs. There’s no viable reserve left.”

“Medically speaking, you can’t conceive naturally.”

“The drugs you were given… they caused irreparable damage to your reproductive system.”

I staggered out of the hospital like a ghost, my body moving on instinct, my mind lost in the wreckage of my life.

It wasn’t just that I couldn’t conceive. It was him. John. The man I gave everything to. The man I trusted. The man who had stood beside me, pretending to love me while poisoning my future.

“The drugs you were given…”

It had been him all along.

I had taken those pills because he told me to. He had said they were vitamins, that they would help regulate my cycle, that they were for my own good. And like the fool I was, I swallowed them, never questioning. Never doubting.

And now, I was empty.

My hands trembled as I walked down the hospital steps, my vision blurring from unshed tears. The air felt thick, suffocating. Every breath was a battle.

I had built my life around John. I had fought for him, sacrificed for him. I had given him my love, my body, my soul. And when his useless family spat in his face, who was the one who stood by him? Me. When he had nothing, when he was just a desperate, hungry goat clawing at survival, who lifted him up? Me.

And how did he repay me?

By destroying me.

By shattering me.

By feeding me poison with one hand while caressing me with the other.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms until I felt the sting of broken skin.

Then there was Mercy. My own blood. My cousin. My sister in every way but name. I took her in when she had nowhere to go. I clothed her, fed her, trusted her. And she repaid me by spreading her legs for my husband in my own bed.

“John, you bastard… May you never know peace. And Mercy…may your womb be as barren as mine.”

The curses echoed in my head, louder, heavier, chasing me as I walked aimlessly down the streets.

I didn’t know how long I wandered. Time had lost meaning.

At some point, my feet led me to a bar. A dark, hidden place where the air reeked of cigarette smoke, sweat, and regret.

Perfect.

I stumbled inside, barely aware of the people around me. The bartender gave me a once-over, his eyes lingering on my tear-streaked face. He opened his mouth to say something…maybe to ask if I was okay but I cut him off.

“Whiskey,” I rasped. “No ice.”

The first shot burned.

The second one numbed.

By the third, the echoes in my head started to fade.

I welcomed the darkness.

I welcomed the destruction.

Drowning my sorrows has become my sole refuge from the shattered remnants of my life.

"Eight more," I groaned, my words laced with the anguish of my memories and the stupor of intoxication.

The room fell silent. Heads turned, eyes burned into me with judgment and curiosity. Even the bartender hesitated, his concern flickering behind his professional mask. But in the end, money was money. He slid the bottles toward me, and I wasted no time drowning in them.

The burn in my throat was nothing compared to the fire in my chest.

“You can never conceive.”

“The drugs you were given… caused irreparable damage.”

The words echoed, tangled with the sound of clinking glasses and muffled laughter around me.

“What possessed  you to think you could down an additional eight bottles?" a deep voice asked, prompting me to turn around. My heart skipped a beat as I locked eyes with him. He nodded at the bartender, "A bottle of red wine, please.”

through my haze, I felt a presence.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in sharp, dark clothing that clung to him like sin. His brown hair was tousled in an effortlessly handsome way, and when he lowered himself into the seat beside me, his piercing eyes locked onto mine with quiet intrigue.

He simply ordered a Bottle of red wine and sat infront of me, like he had all the time in the world.

“There’s something about your scent…” he murmured, his eyes dark and searching. “I think I’ve finally found you.”

“You’re my mate,” he said, his eyes not leaving mine. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I froze, the words slipping into my ears like a forgotten memory. I had heard this kind of thing before…..promises, sweet talk, lies. My heart hardened, and a bitter laugh escaped me, tinged with disbelief.

“Mate?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He didn’t flinch. “I’m serious,” he said, calm, unwavering. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”

I took a long drink from my glass, letting the burn of alcohol fill the space between us. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready to believe him, to trust him. Not after everything I’d been through.

The silence between us stretched, heavy, suffocating.

Then, after what felt like hours, he leaned in slightly and said, “You shouldn’t end your night here. Let’s go to a club.”

I scoffed, my laugh bitter, empty. “I just want to go home.”

I tried to stand, but my legs betrayed me, wobbling like my whole world. I reached for my bag, ready to call a cab, to go somewhere anywhere but when I opened my mouth to say my address… nothing came out.

Where was home?

The house where my husband defiled my bed with another woman?

The house where my trust, my love, my sanity had been shattered?

The house where I no longer belonged?

I swallowed, throat burning from more than just the alcohol. My lips trembled.

I had nowhere to go.

The stranger watched me, silent, as if he understood. Then, without a word, he stood, extended a hand, and helped me to my feet.

I didn’t resist when he led me out. I didn’t care where he was taking me.

And when we stepped into the night, my heart pounded not from fear, not from excitement, but from the suffocating realization that no matter where I went, no matter how much I drank…

I could never escape the truth.

Men were all the same:Liars,Cheaters and Betrayers.

And I was just another fool who had believed in love.

Then we head to his car