Chapter 1

Isabella’s POV

“Somebody help me please,” I groaned, finally collapsed on the ground. A nurse ran towards me, her file hitting the ground as she crashed. “Code red, code red,” she said calmly into her pager.

“Hello ma'am,” I turned my head towards her, her face blurry from my tears. “Please,” I begged. “Save my baby.”

“Possible miscarriage occuring, requesting a bed.”

A bed was rolled towards us and I felt strong arms grab me from underneath my shoulder, helping me up and placing me on it. I refused to look in-between my legs, refusing to acknowledge it was happening again.

Tears fell from my eyes as they rolled me into the hospital room and after what seemed like forever, a male doctor dragged the curtains open.

“Mrs. Martinez?” He looked at me sadly. “I am so sorry. The baby did not make it.”

The first drop fell on my face and I tasted it, the salt in my sadness. “I lost it?”

“Yes. We tried our possible best,” he said assuredly, “but by the time you came in, it was already late.”

I closed my eyes, hating myself even more for ignoring the signs. I had gone through this three times. Why did I think the pain was normal?

“I just wanted a baby,” my voice broke as the sobs became louder. I was so fixed on making sure tonight was right, getting my hair styled just so I could tell my husband the good news.

Three babies, all gone. I never made it past the first trimester. Marcus had deflated the last time he brought me here, which is why I came alone.

“Would you like some time alone?”

“Yes please.”

The doctor left me to my thoughts, spiralling around me. “What am I going to tell him?” I cried, clutching the hospital pillow to my chest. Snot fell down my face as I remembered how excited I was when I called him this afternoon, asking for a date night between us.

I wanted him to be a father so much. 

I shut my eyes tight, wanting all the pain to go away. I had failed him multiple times, after how good he was to me. I fell in love with Marcus so hard, his witty smile, his natural charisma, the way he cared for me and became the family I had lost. All I wanted was for us to finally start our family, have children and be in love forever.

“Mrs. Martinez,” a short nurse stood at the door, “you've been discharged. She handed me a piece of paper. “This is your prescription, take these wdrugs and if you are in any pain, please don't hesitate to come back.”

Everyone in the hospital probably knew I had lost my third baby. “Thank you,” I said, setting my legs to the ground for the first time since I collapsed. It felt cold, just like my empty broken heart.

I wore my clothes and grabbed my bag, thanking all the hospital staff for their care and attention. It wasn't their fault.

I was the broken one.

The journey home was silent, my heart crying and my lungs dragging air on slowly, like I was afraid to breathe. I wanted to surprise him tonight. Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away, focusing on the long winding home instead. 

We would have celebrated and he would have hugged me, then slowly danced throughout the house. “You'll be an amazing mother,” he would have whispered to me, and my heart would have kept for joy.

“Fuckkkkk,” I screamed, letting all my rage out in the world. The tears came down harder but I refused to let them stop me.

I needed my husband's touch.

I parked my car quickly, almost running to go inside so I could tell him. I wanted his comfort, as scared as I was, I really wanted him tonight.

The front door was locked. We never locked our house, even when travelling. This area was so safe, if a robbery occurred, it would make national news.

“Marcus,” I found my key in my bag and opened the door. The house was silent, hardwood floors creaking underneath my feet as I walked towards the stairs. He would be in the room, upstairs.

I heard giggling coming from the top of the stairs. “That's a woman's giggle,” I said in confusion. Luckily, I convinced him last month to change the staircase so it didn't creak or make any noises under my weight.

Our bedroom door is open, and I see the light coming from it, illuminating the somewhat dark hallway. The laughter has gotten louder and with it, I can hear low murmurs of someone speaking.

“Oh, my God,” a woman giggled. I crept closer to the door, struck between calling for my husband or the police. Who could be in my house.

When I finally looked inside, two people were on the bed. The woman's blonde hair spilled over to the side of the bed and she raised her head up with an arm, placing it on my soft bed. It was my best friend, Sarah. What was Sarah doing inside my room?

“Could you believe she didn't tell me this time?” Cold shivers ran through my spine at the voice. I saw him clearly now, standing at the edge of the bed, talking to Sarah and she was looking up at him with admiration.

Marcus Miller, my broad shouldered sharp brown eyed man, that seemed to always look through a person, yet his focus was entirely on talking to my best friend. In our bed.

“I couldn't imagine why,” Sarah said in her fake seductive voice. I hated when she sounded like that, even when she jokes she did it to capture men's attention.

“Thank God I found the pregnancy test. Imagine having a little mistake from a bigger one.” He walked closer to the bed, climbing on it. “Those birth control pills are very effective.”

A soft gasp escaped my lips. Surely, they couldn't be talking about me? “So you slipped her the pills?”

“It was easy again. She's so in love,” Marcus rolled his eyes, “it makes me want to puke.”

“Well,” Sarah rises up, kneeling on the bed, “you think it would have worked by now?”

“As usual.”

As usual.

Usual.

Multiple times.

The words rang in my brain, bouncing around the orbits of my mind as I tried understanding what I heard and what I was seeing.

“I always knew she couldn't be the one for you,” Sarah said with a sneer, “she's too plain, too boring.”

She ran her hands on my husband's chest. “Yes, which is why I have you, my love.” He bent down, capturing her lips with his. The hand on his chest moved higher and I saw a large diamond, glinting across the room.

I trusted Marcus so much. Every night, he gave me my last cup of coffee, he called it his love cup. I drank it all, kissing him afterwards and then, we would make love all night.

Marcus killed my baby.

Marcus, my husband, the man I have been in love with, the only person I considered my family killed the one thing he knew I wanted badly. 

I pushed the door open furiously, causing them to break apart. Marcus doesn't look remorseful while Sarah's face turned red as she saw me.

“Isabella,” she stood up. “We didn't want you finding out like this.”

I couldn't care less about his infidelity. “What pills did you give to me?”

Marcus' eyes turned red, “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you. The pills.”

“Have you gone mad?”

Tears hit the rug underneath me. “I lost my baby again today, Marcus,” his eyes moved to my stomach then back to my face, and I saw the most horrible emotion behind his hooded pupils.

Relief.

“I lost my baby again.”

“You've never been able to keep a child.”

“You fucking gave me something,” I shouted. “I heard you.”

“Isabella, I don't know what you think you heard,” Sarah stepped in. “He didn't give you any pill.”

I glowered at her. “Shut up.”

“Do not speak to my fiancee like that”

“Oh your fiancee?” I cocked my head to the side, “we're still married dip shit.”

“You'll get the divorce papers soon.

He couldn't be serious. “Sarah,” He stretched his arms open for her and she walked to him, settling on his body, “is my fiancee,” Marcus said, lifting his hard gaze back to my face.

“And she's pregnant.”