My Endless Sorrow

The sharp scent of disinfectant stung my senses as I slowly awakened.

In the hospital room, only Lucas Kingston lounged on the sofa, lazily holding Vanessa Reed in his arms.

Not a single member of the Kingston family was present.

When Lucas noticed I had opened my eyes, he asked indifferently, “Awake?”

My face remained deathly pale as my gaze drifted to my noticeably flat abdomen.

Lucas stayed silent for a moment before letting out an impatient scoff.

“So you actually lost it. What a shame—it was already so far along.”

A numb, bitter smile tugged at my lips. Yes, seven and a half months.

Last night, Lucas had summoned me to the racetrack. Because of one careless remark from Vanessa, I lost count of how many laps I had ridden. All I knew was that, by the end, even breathing felt like agony.

Only when they had finally tired of their game did Lucas fasten the last button on his shirt and glance at me as he stood in the middle of the racetrack.

“That’s enough.”

Pale and gasping for breath, I climbed down from the horse.

A sharp pain and a damp sensation overwhelmed me as I stared blankly at Lucas, who was surrounded by his entourage.

Staggering a few steps, I collapsed onto the grass and reached out a trembling hand toward him.

“Lucas… call 911…”

Clutching my stomach, I gasped as beads of sweat rolled down my forehead.

The young men around us noticed my condition and crowded closer, their voices filled with disbelief.

“Come on, it was just a couple of laps. Does she really need to be this dramatic?”

"You’re right, Lucas. She’s putting on quite the act—I almost believed her."

"Don’t even get me started. She looks exactly like she did back then, pretending she had nothing to do with Grandma Eve’s death!

“Not bad, Lily. After all these years, your acting skills haven’t faded one bit!"

Lucas strolled over with Vanessa at his side, his arm protectively around her. His brows furrowed as he scrutinized me.

He had likely long forgotten what I had looked like the last time I miscarried. Now, he too thought I was faking it.

Vanessa stepped forward first, her expression filled with disgust.

"OMG, did you just pee yourself?” she gasped.

She raised her voice deliberately, ensuring everyone’s attention shifted to my legs.

A crushing wave of humiliation swallowed me, choking the air from my lungs.

Instinctively, I turned to Lucas again.

"Lucas, please… help me. My stomach—it hurts so much," I pleaded.

But he merely pushed my hand away in disgust.

"Pathetic."

With that single word, he turned and walked off, taking his entourage with him. Even the racetrack staff ignored me, leaving me on the grass as I called for help.

Eventually, everything went black.

When I woke up again, I was already in the hospital.

…

My eyes burned. It had happened again—I had lost my child.

Vanessa rested her head against Lucas’s shoulder, absentmindedly patting her swollen belly.

"What a shame, Miss Carter. Just a few laps and your baby was gone. You really are a walking curse.

“I’ve had far rougher nights with Lucas—so many times, so intense, sweating until we were both exhausted. And yet, my child is still safe and sound in my womb."

Lucas chuckled and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"How could she compare to you? Even if her child had lived, they’d grow up only to serve ours."

I had heard cruel words like that so many times before. Every time, they chipped away at me, splintering my heart.

And every time, I lashed out without thinking. "That was your child! How could you say such a thing?"

Lucas would always meet my anger with that same cold stare, never responding, as if he enjoyed watching me unravel.

But now? I felt nothing. I had gone completely numb.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe it was exhaustion, but the cold wind seeping in from the window made me shiver violently.

I cleared my throat and forced my voice to remain distant.

"Lucas, could you close the window? I’m freezing. The doctor said I shouldn’t catch a chill at this stage. Thank you."

Every time I had miscarried before, the doctors had warned me about the same thing.

Lucas's expression darkened, his tone like a blade slicing through the winter air.

"You miscarried—you didn’t give birth. What’s with the postpartum recovery nonsense? Or are you just making excuses so you can slack off instead of going back home to care for my mother?"

With that, he turned to leave. He had already spent half an hour with me—his patience had run out.

But just before stepping out, he deliberately pushed every window wide open.

"No cold drafts allowed? Let’s see what happens then…"

I sat there in silence, listening to his words, just as I had silently endured his hatred for the past five years.

But now, I am tired.

I was done carrying the guilt of his grandmother’s death.

And I was done being the Kingston family’s punching bag.

…

Five years ago, Lucas and I had been like a real-life Cinderella and her prince.

At the peak of our love, he brought me to the Kingston family estate.

The Kingstons were an old-money dynasty, their empire built on generations of strategic marriages. Lucas was the only exception—he refused to follow tradition.

No one in the family welcomed me, except for one person: his grandmother.

Grandma Eve was over ninety, and her health had been steadily declining. Once the formidable matriarch of the family, she had been forced to step back, relying on a wheelchair to move around.

She was the only one who wholeheartedly supported our relationship.

She adored me, often asking me to sit with her and talk. Lucas, too, would reminisce about their shared memories. But beneath her stories, I could always sense a lingering sorrow.

From those conversations, I learned that she, too, had once loved someone deeply. But for reasons beyond her control, their story had ended before it could truly begin.

As her condition worsened, even simple conversations became difficult. Yet, despite the overwhelming opposition from the Kingston family, she remained firm—she wanted Lucas to marry me.

One afternoon, during the wedding preparations, Lucas took Grandma Eve and me for a stroll in the park.

As we reached a slope, she scribbled a note, saying she was thirsty. Lucas hurried off to buy water, leaving me to watch over her.

Then, suddenly, her entire body tensed. Her eyes locked onto something in the distance, filled with urgent recognition as if she had just seen a ghost from her past.

Alarmed, I gripped her wheelchair and scanned the surroundings. But there was no one.

Then—

"Lily!"

Lucas's voice rang out behind me.

I turned—

And in that instant, the wheelchair slipped down the slope.

Because of my negligence, disaster struck.

After Grandma Eve’s funeral, Lucas still chose to marry me—but not out of love. What remained between us was no longer devotion but a bitter grudge.

"Lily, you’ll spend the rest of your life trapped in the Kingston estate—paying for what you’ve done."

From that moment on, it wasn’t just Lucas who resented me. The entire Kingston family seethed with anger and contempt.

During this time, Lucas met a woman named Vanessa and quickly fell madly in love with her.

As for me, my life in the Kingston household became a slow, sinking nightmare—one that swallowed me whole.

One by one, I lost five unborn children.

Then, one day, the doctor delivered the final blow.

"Miss Carter, given your history of repeated miscarriages over the past five years, your body has suffered severe damage. Under normal circumstances, conceiving again in the near future will be extremely difficult…"

His words were gentle, but I understood the truth behind them.

I nodded, my expression calm, offering no response.

"Would you like me to inform Mr. Kingston?"

After all, this was the Kingstons’ private hospital. Though tensions ran high, our relationship hadn’t completely crumbled into open hostility—at least, not enough to air our dirty laundry in public.

To the outside world, I was still Mrs. Kingston—unwanted and disregarded, but still afforded a sliver of respect.

I let out a quiet, resigned laugh.

"No…No need to tell him."