Chapter 3: The Consent Form

Elena’s POV

As Lucian towered over me, I swiped away my tears. All the puzzle pieces snapped into place.

Lucian had been looking for a reason to get rid of me so he could be with Lydia. My ‘bastard’ child was the perfect excuse. He wasn’t going to believe the truth, no matter what I said.

So, with a steely heart, I got to my feet.

“You can have him,” I said, locking eyes with Lydia. Then I brought my eyes to Lucian as I bit back tears. “File the divorce the papers, Lucian. This marriage is over.”

Turning to leave, I felt empty inside. But as I placed my hand on the doorknob, a sharp pain ripped through my abdomen. Hunching over, I grabbed my stomach and gasped.

Fearing that something was wrong with the baby, I paused, my hand still on the doorknob.

Had Lucian shoved me so hard he harmed the baby? Or had the intense emotional turmoil of being betrayed by my best friend and my husband caused my body too much stress?

Another wave of pain tore through my stomach, and this time, I cried out in pain. A nurse appeared in the hallway.

“It’s my stomach,” I said, my face pale. “I’m pregnant.”

“Come with me,” the nurse replied, grabbing me by the elbow. She led me down the long corridor and into an operating room. “Lie down,” she instructed.

The protective paper liner of the bed crinkled as I did what she said and lay down.

Moments later, a doctor appeared. With his brows furrowed, he glanced at the clipboard in his hands.

“I think something’s wrong with my baby,” I said, my jaw clenched tight. The pain was sharp now, like a bee sting, radiating outwards through my lower stomach.

“Mm hm,” he replied with a curt nod.   

He came to the bed and turned his back to me.

“I’m not very far along,” I told him. “I’ve been under a lot of stress…”

My voice trailed off as he turned around. My eyes widened in shock. He had a needle in his hand, poised in the air. The silver shone under the bright operating table lights.

A needle? This wasn’t right. The doctor hadn’t even examined me yet. Before I could ask, the nurse took my wrist and the needle slid into my vein.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“It’s just some anesthesia," he replied, his tone bored and flat.

“Why do I need anesthesia?” I asked, struggling to sit up. I had the uncanny feeling that something was terribly wrong.

“Just lay back and try to relax,” the nurse said, gently trying to shove me back  down. A sense of dread prickled down the back of my neck. The doctor pulled over a stool and sat at the end of the bed.

“Open your legs,” he instructed.

“Wait,” I gasped. “What are you doing?”

“An abortion,” he said, his tone devoid of any inflection, as though it were the most banal thing in the world.

I bolted upright, my eyes wide.

“What? No,” I shook my head and tried to close my legs.

“Your family arranged it,” he replied. With a hand on each of my knees, he pressed down to open up my legs.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins. An abortion? No. I couldn’t lose my baby. The anesthesia was making me a bit groggy, but I dug deep and used the last bit of strength I had to jump off the bed. 

I tore out of the operating room, desperate to call Lucian. He was the most powerful man I knew. He could stop this.

He WOULD stop this.

This was his child, after all.

Scurrying down the hall, I whipped out my phone just as the nurse walked out of the operating room. Frantically, I dialed Lucian’s number while the nurse looked left, then right, then locked eyes with me.

“Lucian,” I said, my voice breaking as he answered. “You have to help me.” The nurse was coming towards me now in long strides, an annoyed look on her face. “Please. I am being forced to have an abortion. Something isn’t right here.”

“Why should I trust anything you say?” Lucian growled into the phone. 

“Because it’s the truth,” I said. “I need help. Please, Lucian.”

“So now you’re telling the truth? How am I supposed to know the lies from the truth?” 

The line was silent for beat. He didn’t trust me. How could I make him see that I was in a very bad situation here?

“I’ve been telling the truth the whole time,” I replied.

“That’s exactly what liars say,” Lucian quipped. 

 “You know me better than that,” I said. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his tone flat. “I’m not sure how much of our marriage is built on lies at this point.”

His words stung. “This baby is yours, Lucian,” I pleaded. “I can prove it...but this doctor…he wants to…”

“That doesn’t sound like a ‘me’ problem,” Lucian cut me off curtly. “Not anymore.”

“Lucian,” I whimpered. 

But the line was dead. Lucian had hung up the phone. He wasn’t going to help me. 

The nurse grabbed me by the elbow. Suddenly, my vision swooned. Feeling light-headed, I braced myself on the wall.

“Come on, now,” the nurse said. “That anesthetic is kicking in. Come lie down. Before you pass out.”

The anaesthetic pulled at me, threatening to blacken my vision. I fought against it as the nurse led me down the hallway. But it was no use.

By the time we got back to the operating room, I could barely walk.

“Don’t fight it, love. It’s easier if you just relax,” the nurse said, pushing my shoulders back down onto the bed.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue felt too thick. The doctor pressed open my legs.

“Do you have the surgical consent form?” the doctor asked. But his voice sounded tinny and far away.

“Yup,” the nurse said. “It’s right here.”

With my last bit of strength, I turned my head to the side. Through the haze, I saw the nurse holding up a document.

And right at the bottom, I saw it.

It was the last thing I saw before everything went dark.

Lucian’s unmistakable signature.