I dragged myself out of the villa, each step heavier than the last, until my strength gave out and I collapsed on the roadside, unconscious.
I didn't know how long I had been unconscious when the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant slowly pulled me back to reality.
The moment I tried to move, a stabbing pain tore through my abdomen, instantly reminding me of everything that had happened.
The doctor, noticing I was awake, hesitated before stepping closer. His eyes held a pity that chilled me to the bone.
"Mrs. Holmes, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Because of your previous miscarriage and the gunshot injury to your uterus—combined with the severe bleeding this time—the situation was critical. To... to save your life..."
He hesitated, lowering his gaze.
"We had no choice but to remove your uterus."
His words hit me like a bolt of lightning. My mind went blank.
"What... what did you just say?"
My pupils dilated as I stared at his moving lips, unable to register the sound.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Holmes. If you had been brought in sooner, perhaps we could have saved it, but..."
His voice faded into a blur.
Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision.
My heart, which had already gone numb, clenched painfully again.
How could this be happening?
Was this God's punishment for loving the wrong man?
I shook my head violently, tears spilling down my cheeks, refusing to accept the truth.
Just then, the ward door burst open with a deafening crash.
Weston stormed in, his face dark with rage. "Patricia is having massive bleeding because of you. Your blood types match—I need you to give her a transfusion. Now!"
The doctor hesitated, glancing between us. "Mr. Holmes, your wife just had a hysterectomy. She's extremely weak. It's not safe for her to donate blood now."
Only then did Weston seem to notice my pallor, the sweat on my brow, the tears at the corners of my eyes.
For a brief second, he froze—then his gaze hardened with disgust.
"Denise, it's just a bit of blood. You really bribed the doctor to act for you?"
A bitter laugh rose in my throat. The one acting all this time wasn't me—it was him.
The man who had lied, deceived, and destroyed everything I loved.
I wanted to tear off his mask, to scream until the truth echoed in his ears.
But all I managed was a cold, trembling whisper. "I didn't push her. And I won't give her my blood."
His patience finally snapped.