Sophia’s POVThe abortion was successful. I didn’t feel much pain.I just felt hollow, as if someone had carved the vital parts out of my soul.Forcing myself to block out thoughts of Carlos, I took a cab back to the penthouse we shared in secret.I had barely walked through the door when Carlos returned.He had brought a box from an expensive Italian bakery to cheer me up, hand-feeding me a piece of cake.The cloying sweetness hit my tongue, tasting like wax.I hated sweets.I had told him countless times, but he never remembered.There were times I refused to eat it, and he would lose his temper, calling me ungrateful.Now I understood. The woman who loved sweets, the woman Carlos actually loved, was someone else.Acid rose in my throat. I pushed his hand away and dry-heaved violently.A flash of impatience crossed Carlos’s eyes, gone in an instant, replaced by his usual mask of concern."What’s wrong? Sophia, are you feeling sick?""Yeah, I feel like I’m going to vomit," I said, my
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