6: I. Was. Done

SOPHIA

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the sharp scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of machines. My eyes fluttered open to a ceiling painted a muted cream, too plain to belong anywhere but a hospital. 

The second thing I noticed was him. Adrian sat on the narrow bench beside the bed. His tall frame was folded forward, elbows braced on his knees, and his head bowed as if in prayer. His suit jacket was draped across the backrest, and his sleeves creased. For the first time since I’d met him, he looked out of control.

“Adrian?” My voice was weak, almost a whisper.

His head shot up instantly. The moment his eyes met mine, relief flickered across his face. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, reaching for the bottle of water on the bedside table.

“Here,” he said, uncapping it and pressing it gently into my hands. “Slowly.” 

His tone was firm but careful, like I might shatter if he pushed so hard. What happened? I must have scared him. 

The cool liquid soothed my parched throat as I took a few sips. “What… what happened? How did I get here?”

“You fainted,” he stated, watching me closely. His voice was clipped with concern, and his brows furrowed as he took me in. “The doctor ran some tests. I’ll go get him.” 

Before I could speak, he walked out, leaving me alone with the steady beeping of the monitor. I touched the back of my palm to my forehead. It was warm. Maybe the stress of being a housewife had finally caught up to me. I didn’t like being sick, but I was glad it happened with him. 

Moments later, a man in a white coat entered, clipboard in hand. He was middle-aged, with sharp eyes that made me sit straighter despite the weight pressing down on me.

“Mrs. Carver,” he greeted, flipping through his notes. “You’re stable now, but I’d like to go over your results.”

Suddenly uneasy, I nodded. The last time I had a doctor act this mysterious around me was after Ollie’s birth. 

“Are you currently on any medication?” he asked. 

His pen was poised as if he were ready to take notes.

“No,” I answered quickly.

“Strange.” He frowned slightly, eyes darting back to the clipboard. Unease crept up my spine. “For someone not taking any prescriptions, your hormone levels are unusually high. Are you on anything? Pills, perhaps?”

That bottle in the bathroom cabinet flashed across my mind. Marc got them when we started trying again for a girl. He had always talked about wanting a second child. A daughter this time to balance out our small family. 

“Well… yes. But they are supplements.”

His head lifted at that. “What kind?”

Adrian frowned, and under the intensity of his gaze, the name slipped from my memory. I couldn’t remember the label or production company. So, I described the small white pills, the plain bottle, and the routine Marc insisted on.

The doctor’s expression darkened. “And you say they’re supplements? Are you sure about this, Mrs. Carver?”

“Yes,” I muttered. Adrian and I shared a look, and I lost my courage. “My husband gave them to me months ago.”

And he’d been in charge of refilling them. The doctor exhaled sharply, his pen tapping against the board. 

“Unless I’m very wrong, what you’ve been taking are contraceptives. Strong ones,” he said. “Without proper supervision, they could damage your fertility long term. If they haven’t already.”

The words struck me too hard, too close, and my chest constricted. What was he talking about? Contraceptives?

We had been trying for a child. Marc always claimed he wanted a daughter. I had tried, month after month, until exhaustion and disappointment wore me down. That was when Marc incorporated the supplements, saying they could help with the hormones and also keep me healthy.

But now the doctor, a trained professional, was saying something else. Something that didn’t make sense. 

Marc wasn’t helping. Not in the two years I had been taking the supplements. Instead, he had been ensuring I could never carry another child.

Why? To keep me tied to him forever? To rob me of choice? To crush my hope? Why? None of it made sense. 

The doctor muttered a few more instructions I barely absorbed before leaving me in stunned silence. Adrian’s touch drew me out of my daze. I glanced at him, my body numb, and my heart breaking into a million more pieces. 

His gaze swept over me, searching. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Shaking my head, I forced a smile to my lips. The lie sat bitter on my tongue. Fine? I was furious. I had to see Marc now. “Can I go home? I need to leave.” 

“Okay.” He studied me and nodded again. “I’ll arrange it.”

At the door, he paused. I expected him to bring up some of the things the doctor mentioned, but he didn’t. 

“Are you going to arrange it or not?” I whispered. 

“Sorry,” Adrian muttered and left. 

When he finally returned to the room, the discharge papers were ready. He walked me out with steadying patience, his presence an unspoken reassurance. 

The ride was silent until the car slowed at a pharmacy. 

“Why are we here?” I asked. 

“Need to get a few things. Hold on.”

Adrian disappeared into the pharmacy after a smile, and I sat stiffly, waiting in the quiet hum of the car. When he slid back into the backseat, he was with a paper bag.

“The doctor prescribed these,” he said, placing them in my hands. “Hormonal recovery. And a few other things.”

Without a word, I opened the bag. The packaging was different from those Marc had been giving to me. Staring at them, a truth hit deep. I’d been living with my enemy.  

“Thank you,” I murmured. “I owe you.”

Adrian broke into a grin. “It’s nothing. Happy to help.” 

The ride to Marc’s house passed calmly. My thoughts churned too violently for words. When I stepped into the house, I was struck by the stillness. No sound of Ollie’s laughter or clatter of footsteps. Just silence. Too much of it. Maybe Ollie was still in school, but I saw Marc’s car.

A storm built in my chest as I moved upstairs. I didn’t know what I would say to Marc, but I knew I had to see him. Upstairs, our bedroom door was slightly ajar. I took one peek inside, and my food came up to my throat. 

Marc was there, his back arched over a naked woman. His body moved in a rhythm that made my throat close. Victoria was beneath him, her hair spilling across my pillow, and her moans tearing through the air.

The tears that I suppressed since I heard the doctor’s verdict rushed to my eyes. My legs locked, and my heart pounded so violently it hurt. Rage, humiliation, betrayal, hurt, and all other bitter emotions collided at once. 

Not only was Marc feeding me contraceptives, but he had also been cheating on me with his assistant. 

I. Was. Done.