Isabel’s POV
When I woke up, the room was dimly lit. The low hum of medical machines noticed that I was in the hospital bed again. The difference was that I had a throbbing headache and intense stomach cramps that were worse than the last time. Where was I? What had happened?
The soft hum of medical machines surrounded me. I had a throbbing headache and intense stomach cramps. Where was I? What happened?
I suddenly remembered Lilith’s evil smile and hard push, then the painful fall down the staircase. I had ended up on the floor, flat on my belly with Lilith’s weight on top of me.
Oh no… I gasped and jolted upright, causing another contraction in my womb. “My baby!”
The doctor noticed I was awake and walked over to me. He stood by my bedside, his expression somber. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Williams," he said gently. "Your baby didn't survive the fall."
His words pierced my heart like a dagger. I felt an overwhelming wave of grief wash over me. My hand instinctively moved to my now empty belly. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My baby, the little life I had been so excited to welcome, was gone.
“My little girl… It can’t be!” I sobbed. The doctor placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. There was nothing we could do.”
“You may experience some after-pains and bleeding over the next few days,” He continued. “We will keep you here so you can rest and we can monitor your recovery.”
I looked around the room, hoping to see Emerson. He should be here, comforting me, sharing in this pain. But he wasn't.
“My husband… W-Where’s my husband?” I mumbled in shock.
“I believe I saw him in the maternity ward, ma'am,” The doctor replied. I was confused. What was he doing there?
“That other lady who fell down the stairs with you?” The doctor continued. “She went into early labor after the accident.”
Accident? Her push had been very intentional. I nodded and the doctor left the room. My entire body was sore and weak, but I had to find my husband.
After a while, I gathered enough strength to leave the room. I needed to find Emerson. As I walked down the hospital corridors, I felt like a ghost, hollow and broken. I finally found the maternity ward. I looked into a few rooms through the glass windows. Suddenly, my heart stopped.
I saw Emerson sitting beside Lilith's hospital bed. He was cradling a tiny baby in his arms. Lilith lay in bed, looking tired but triumphant.
My heart shattered anew at the sight. Emerson was doting on Lilith and her baby. Meanwhile our child was lifeless, because of her.
I had every right to storm in and demand answers. As his legal wife, I deserved an explanation for this betrayal. But as I stood outside the door, my courage faltered. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and watched them. My heart ached with a profound sense of loss and rejection.
Why did he choose her? What did I do wrong? My mind raced with questions, but deep down, I knew their answers wouldn't change anything. I was the outsider in their perfect little world.
I whispered softly to myself, "I'm just a fifth wheel in this relationship. No matter how much I hurt, no one will care."
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, my eyes glued to the scene inside. Emerson's face was filled with a tenderness he had once shown me. Now, it was all for Lilith. He didn't even glance in my direction.
Twenty minutes passed, and not once did anyone notice me. I was invisible. A shadow in their happiness. The realization hit me hard. I turned away, my heart heavy with sorrow.
I walked away from Lilith's room. A sudden sharp pain shot through my head. I stumbled, feeling dizzy and disoriented.
The world around me blurred, and I felt my legs give way. The pain in my head intensified, a throbbing agony that made it hard to think. I collapsed to the floor. The last thing I saw was the cold, white tiles of the hospital hallway.
When I woke up again, surprise, surprise—I was back in a hospital bed. Seriously, was this my new vacation home? What had landed me here this time? Was it the aftermath of the miscarriage that had knocked me out? Or had I managed to find some new, creative way to faint?
A nurse gave me some water and a snack. She ran some tests, shining a flashlight in my eyes. Her worried frown made me feel anxious. After I'd been awake for half an hour, slowly adjusting to my surroundings, the doctor arrived.
He was looking even graver than before. "Isabel," he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "You’ve been in a coma for 3 days. We ran several tests and scans, and found something concerning.” He paused. What could be worse than losing my baby? I wondered.
“I'm sorry to inform you… You have a tumor in your head. It's likely causing these symptoms - dizziness, headaches, fainting. If it continues to grow, you might not have more than a year."
His words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. I stared at him, unable to process the full impact of what he was saying. My baby was gone, I lost Emerson, and now my life was at risk. The weight of it all threatened to crush me.
I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks. How had everything gone so horribly wrong? What was I supposed to do now? I felt completely and utterly alone, in a sea of pain and confusion.
Isabel’s POVDays passed, stretching into an unspoken eternity, and Emerson’s condition could no longer be kept from Liam and Elena.One afternoon, I was sitting by Emerson’s bed, my hand gently brushing his, when the door to the hospital room creaked open. My heart skipped a beat."Liam, Elena, what are you doing here?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. I hadn’t expected them today, and the sight of their small faces brought a surge of overwhelming love and guilt.Eric stood behind them, his expression apologetic, his eyes soft with understanding. “They begged me, Isabel. They wouldn’t stop asking to see him... I couldn’t say no anymore.”Liam’s face was drawn, his usual bright energy dimmed with concern. Elena clung to her brother, her eyes wide with fear as they both hesitated in the doorway.Before I could say anything else, another figure appeared behind them, stepping into the room. My heart stopped for a moment as I looked up to see Emerson’s mother, Estelle, walking towards
Isabel’s POVA month had passed. One whole month, and still, no sign of life from Emerson. The machines beside his bed beeped steadily. A monotonous rhythm that I had come to know too well. A rhythm that seemed to mock the stillness of his body. I sat by his side every day, watching him, praying for some miracle—some sign that he was still there, still fighting. But each time I whispered his name, there was nothing. Nothing but the soft hum of hospital machinery.“Emerson,” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my attempts to sound steady. “Don’t you want to be with me? If you wake up, I promise we can live happily as a family of four.”I meant it, every word of it. The thought of a future with him, of raising our children together, was the only thing that kept me going. I needed him to hear me. I needed him to wake up.But Emerson remained unresponsive.He looked like a prince charming, trapped in an eternal dream—strangely peaceful. I combed his dark hair back neatly after gently
Isabel’s POVThe world blurred—shouts, chaos, the metallic scent of blood thick in my nostrils. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I clung to Emerson, his labored breaths hot against my skin.I didn’t dare move. The slick warmth of his blood drenching me was unnerving. His chest rose and fell in erratic, shallow breaths. But then, amid the cacophony of battle, a stunned silence emerged. Orders were shouted. Weapons clicked into position. Something had changed. I forced myself to glance up from Emerson’s chest, my pulse hammering.Alistair stood frozen, his face contorted in pain. Blood dripped from his hand—the very hand that had been pointing a gun at me just seconds before. His grip slackened, and the weapon tumbled to the ground.A sniper.Alistair’s men immediately scattered, taking defensive positions, frantically searching the area. But before they could react, several of them suddenly dropped to the ground.They were convulsing violently, frothing at the mouth. One by one, the
Isabel’s POVMy wrists ached from the tight ropes binding my hands behind my back as I was shoved forward. The rough ground beneath my boots felt unsteady, my knees weak with exhaustion. The air smelled of blood, gunpowder, and sweat. The night was still alive with distant gunfire, but here, in the heart of the enemy’s grasp, there was only the sound of my ragged breathing and Alistair’s mocking laughter.“Stop resisting, Emerson,” he drawled, his voice filled with smug amusement. “You’re in over your head. Oh—look who finally decided to join us.”Emerson was holding back several opponents, bruised and bloodied from the fight. His head snapped up at Alistair’s words.He turned, and when his eyes landed on me, something in his face shifted. Shock, then rage, then a devastating kind of fear. He lunged forward, but a guard was faster. A rifle butt slammed into Emerson’s ribs. The sickening crack echoed in the night, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air."Emerson!" I screamed,
Isabel’s POVAt first, Emerson and I managed to escape the building, slipping into the shadows like ghosts. The night was thick around us, swallowing our hurried footsteps as we navigated through the wreckage of Alistair’s camp. The distant gunfire and shouts of battle echoed behind us. But just as we reached the edge of the compound, the world seemed to shift.From the darkness, figures emerged—silent and predatory, their weapons gleaming under the pale moonlight. They moved like shadows given form, their presence an unspoken promise of violence. My breath caught in my throat as a dozen, no, more than two dozen enemies surrounded us, blocking every escape route. The sheer hatred in their eyes sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. These weren’t just guards; they were fanatics, men who thrived in the chaos of bloodshed and terror.Emerson moved instinctively, stepping in front of me, gun raised. “Stay close,” he murmured, barely audible over the wind. I nodded, steadying my grip
Sebastian/Elias’ POVScarlet’s scream echoed through the dimly lit room, raw with disbelief and fury. “You’re lying!” she spat, her eyes blazing with denial. The restraints binding her wrists rattled as she struggled, but I didn’t move to stop her. There was no point—her fight wasn’t with me. It was with the truth.I let out a slow breath, pulling a small, timeworn pocket watch from my coat. The silver casing had dulled over the years, but the engraved initials remained clear. I clicked it open and held it out to her, revealing a faded family photograph inside.“My father gave this to me before he died,” I said evenly, my voice softer than before. “He cared about you, Scarlet. No matter what you believe, you were never forgotten.”Her breath hitched. For a moment, the fire in her eyes flickered, replaced by something rawer—uncertainty. “How could it be?” she murmured, barely more than a whisper.All the pieces had finally clicked into place as Scarlet unraveled her story. The tangled