He Called Me Weak, Now I Hold His Fate

Nadia

“Sorry for your loss, Ms Nadia”

My breathing had become shallow as I sat still on the edge of the examination table, trying to process my loss. Another one.

The third miscarriage, in a year.

My baby, Clarissa. I had wanted her to be a girl so bad I already gave her a name. 

My eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

Why me?

This was all I had ever truly wanted. A family. But it was obvious the Moon Goddess had other plans.

I tried to steady my breathing but my heart had sunk into a pit.  

I pressed my palm flat against my lower stomach, and winced at the emptiness inside. My baby was really gone. I bit my lip, hard, trying to stop the tears.

But they came anyway.

Growing up as an omega with well recognized parents should have made life easier but It didn’t for me.

It was ironic that the daughter of renowned Seers, ended up being such a weakling. Weaker than an omega. I had no wolf, no inherited powers and lived a long life of being a dent on my family's perfect image. 

When I met Greg, it felt like I was finally being seen for something other than my weakness. It was another chance to get what I'd always wanted. A real family.

And at first my parents would be happy that I had found a man despite my situation but they hated him. They hated me even more for bringing a disabled man to them.

And for the first time I knew I had to follow the family I chose, but Fate always found a way to take back my happiness before it can fully bloom. 

An overwhelming sob choked past my lips before I could swallow it back. 

Shame made me wipe at my eyes with the tissue the doctor provided.

Maybe I was doing something wrong. After all my parents always said I was a problem. 

If I tried again. It would work.  

“Your body has been through so much,” she patted me gently, intercepting my thoughts. “This time… the scarring is more severe. If you try again, Nadia…, it could cost you your life.”

The light slowly went out of my eyes.

“W—what?” My voice wobbled with emotion.

I lost my child and my womb…?

“Does this mean…” I trailed, fear too thick for me to finish my words.

The doctor’s eyes held so much pity that I didn’t need to hear her say the words. I already knew.

A horrid gasp left my lips. What would become of me? The dream I had for a family?

The doctor looked at me, worried. “I'm going to recommend that you stay overnight,” she added, her voice softening with sympathy. “You're not in the right state to be alone right now. We can arrange for counseling for you and your partner. Blood transfusion if necessary. Anything you need.”

My eyes widened with realization.

Goddess. Greg.

How was I going to tell Greg? I can’t tell him. 

I shook my head, not feeling connected with reality in the slightest. “No. I have to go.”

“Nadia…”

“Please Doc, please, ” I said firmly, blinking rapidly to stop the tears.

The doctor hesitated, studying my pale face. “Is there someone I can call to come get you? Your partner maybe?” she carefully asked.

“No,” I whispered, forcing myself to sit straighter. “I’ll manage.”

But that was a lie. 

Pain raked through my body, a minor blimp of what was going on in my heart.

I couldn’t call Greg to things like these. We weren’t supposed to be seen in public. I also couldn’t say his name out loud. I couldn’t say he was my husband. He had warned me repeatedly, educating me on bad press and I obeyed because I loved him and he knew best.

And so in five years no one knew I was his wife.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now, Nadia,” the doctor said. “Even walking will be—”

“I said I’ll be fine,” I shouted, cutting her off, ignoring the way the floor swayed beneath my feet.

The doctor gave me a long look, but didn't say anything else. I could tell she wanted to push, but something in my expression must have convinced her otherwise.

I left the room on shaky legs, my body floating on autopilot mode. 

Today wasn’t supposed to be about me. Greg had been disabled for five years and yet every year he had a mountain of hope that he was going to be cured.

Which was why this year, after the first two miscarriages I hadn’t told him I was pregnant again. I’d wanted to surprise him with the good news. Something he could hold onto.

But then, this happened. 

I had no idea how I managed to arrive at the medical facility where he frequented for five years without fainting from my dizzying spells. I opened the door to the waiting area and the shutter of cameras welcomed me.

Cameras? What the hell was going on? 

There was a small crowd of journalists and bloggers with notes, cameras and mics. 

A frown mounted my face even as I tried to steady my breathing.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, as I pushed against the crowd trying to get inside. I was very weak and out of breath by the time I got to the attendance station.

“Hi,” I panted, “I’m here for the — I was cut off by the nurse, a stern-looking woman, looked me up and down like I was dirt she’d scraped off the floor.

“You’re late,” she said simply, turning back to her screen.

“W-What?” I blinked in confusion.

“Weren't you reporters updated on the time?” She rolled her eyes annoyed, “The time was moved up.”

Reporters?

“I’m not— I started to say but She scoffed, then jabbed a few keys before motioning with her chin. “Room 307. End of the left wing.”

I turned and followed the swell of the crowd. Greg's scent was faint, but it was there.

He didn’t like media and had constantly warned me against them. So why were they here?

Deep down, a sudden fear crept in my stomach.

Strange voices echoed down the hall and despite the pain that shot out from my body, my pace quickened.

I couldn’t lose him too.

Please. Moon goddess. 

I finally got to the room, his scent was stronger but the sea of bodies made it impossible to see him.

I grunted in pain as I pushed through the bodies, my slender nature giving me an advantage.

I was close to the front before I caught sight of him. One final push and I saw him.

He was…happy but then…

I gasped in shock as my eyes connected with the rest of him.

Greg was standing. 

Greg was standing!!