Chapter 2: The price of love

"Mrs. Blackstone, I'm sorry, but the damage is severe."

The doctor's words echoed inside my head.

I sat frozen in my chair.

My hands trembled.

My lips parted, but no words came out.

Beside me, David was equally silent.

The doctor lowered the medical report and sighed.

"We conducted several tests before reaching this conclusion."

"No..." I whispered.

The doctor looked at me sympathetically.

"I'm very sorry."

My heart sank.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

Colder.

Harder to breathe in.

I slowly looked down at the report lying before me.

The words were staring back at me.

Words that would change my life forever.

Words I never expected to hear.

Words that would eventually destroy my marriage.

Five years earlier.

The church bells rang beautifully across New York City.

Guests filled every seat.

White roses decorated the aisle.

Soft music floated through the air.

And at the end of the aisle stood David Blackstone.

Waiting for me.

My future husband.

The love of my life.

The man I believed would never hurt me.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I walked toward him.

His gaze never left mine.

He looked breathtaking in his black suit.

Confidence.

Handsome.

Powerful.

Yet when he looked at me, his eyes softened.

As if I was the only woman in the world.

When I finally reached him, he squeezed my hands gently.

"You look beautiful."

A laugh escaped my lips.

"So do you."

He smiled.

"I don't think that's how it's supposed to work."

The guests laughed.

The tension disappeared.

And for a moment, everything felt perfect.

The priest began the ceremony.

The vows followed.

Then David looked into my eyes and said words I would never forget.

"I promise to love you."

"I promise to protect you."

"I promise to stand beside you through every challenge."

His voice became softer.

"You are my home, Vivian."

"And you always will be."

Tears rolled down my cheeks.

I believed every word.

Every single one.

When the priest finally announced us husband and wife, the church erupted with applause.

David pulled me into his arms.

Then kissed me.

The crowd cheered loudly.

At that moment, I thought I was the happiest woman alive.

I had no idea life would prove me wrong.

Our wedding reception was grand.

After all, David Blackstone wasn't just any man.

He was the heir and future CEO of Blackstone Holdings.

One of the most powerful companies in New York City.

Blackstone Holdings owned luxury hotels.

Private hospitals.

Construction companies.

Real estate developments.

Infrastructure projects worth billions.

The Blackstone name carried influence everywhere.

And David was the future of that empire.

His father, Henry Blackstone, had built the company from nothing.

His mother, Scarlett Blackstone, was one of the most respected women in New York's elite society.

Everyone admired them.

Everyone feared them.

Everyone respected them.

Yet despite all their wealth and power, David chose me.

Just me.

A girl who came from nothing.

A girl who lost everything.

My parents died when I was sixteen.

A drunk driver crashed into their vehicle on a rainy night.

Neither survived.

One day I had a family.

The next day I didn't.

The loss nearly destroyed me.

For months, I barely spoke.

I barely ate.

I barely slept.

Then my aunt Beatrice stepped in.

She became my guardian.

My protector.

My family.

Beatrice wasn't wealthy.

She worked tirelessly to support us.

Sometimes two jobs.

Sometimes three.

Yet she never complained.

She made sure I stayed in school.

I made sure I kept believing in myself.

When I received a scholarship to Westbridge University, she cried harder than I did.

"I knew you could do it."

I still remembered her words.

"Your parents would be proud."

Everything I became started with Beatrice's sacrifice.

Everything.

That night after our wedding, David and I finally arrived at our honeymoon suite.

The city lights sparkled outside the large windows.

The room overlooked Manhattan.

It felt magical.

Like a dream.

Neither of us spoke immediately.

We simply stared at each other.

Smiling.

Laughing.

Unable to believe we were finally husband and wife.

David walked toward me.

Slowly.

Then wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Mrs. Blackstone."

I laughed.

The title still sounded strange.

"And you're Mr. Blackstone."

He shook his head.

"I like hearing that."

His forehead rested against mine.

"I love you."

My heart melted.

"I love you too."

His arms tightened around me.

For several moments, we simply stood there.

Holding each other.

Enjoying the silence.

Enjoying the moment.

Enjoying the future we believed awaited us.

That night, we talked about everything.

Children.

Dreams.

Travel.

The family we wanted to build together.

"I want three children," David said.

I laughed.

"Three?"

"Maybe four."

"Now you're being greedy."

He grinned.

"I want a house full of laughter."

His hand found mine.

"I want a son who looks like you."

I rolled my eyes.

"Why not a daughter?"

His smile widened.

"Then a daughter too."

We both laughed.

Back then, having children felt so easy.

So natural.

So certain.

The first year of marriage passed quickly.

Then came the second.

Then the third.

We kept trying.

Month after month.

Year after year.

Nothing happened.

At first, we weren't worried.

"There is no rush," David would tell me.

"We have time."

I wanted to believe him.

So I did.

But eventually, doubt crept in.

Every month became another disappointment.

Every negative result became another heartbreak.

I started avoiding baby stores.

Avoiding baby advertisements.

Avoiding pregnant women.

Not because I hated them.

But because seeing them reminded me of what I didn't have.

One evening, I sat alone in our bedroom.

A pregnancy test lay on the bathroom counter.

Negative.

Again.

The tears came immediately.

When David found me crying, he sat beside me.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not."

My voice broke.

"What if something is wrong with me?"

David pulled me into his arms.

"Don't say that."

"But what if it's true?"

For the first time, he didn't answer immediately.

And that silence scared me.

A lot.

A few weeks later, we finally decided to seek medical help.

Several tests followed.

Blood tests.

Scans.

Examinations.

More tests.

More waiting.

More anxiety.

Then came the appointment.

The appointment that changed everything.

The doctor looked at us for a long moment.

His expression wasn't encouraging.

Immediately, my stomach dropped.

"Doctor?"

He sighed.

Then opened the medical file.

"Mrs. Blackstone."

My heart pounded.

"Yes?"

The doctor hesitated.

As though searching for the right words.

Then he finally spoke.

"The repeated procedures you underwent years ago have caused severe damage."

I froze.

David stiffened beside me.

The doctor lowered his gaze.

Then delivered the sentence that shattered my world.

"You can no longer carry a child."

The room spun.

The air left my lungs.

And beside me, David slowly released my hand.