Her words sounded soft. Too soft. Like rehearsed lines. Then David stepped forward, blocking me completely. His eyes were cold, sharp.
“She almost lost the baby yesterday because of you,” he said. “You posted things, stirred trouble, ruined the wedding. Do you know how much stress you caused her?”
I opened my mouth.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to pull up my sleeves. Show him the bruises. The wounds. The body that was barely holding together. I wanted to ask him why my blood never counted. But the look on his face killed my voice.
He was disgusted. Like I was something rotten he wished would disappear.
Ryle squeezed my hand.
Hard.
His little fingers were ice cold. His head lowered slowly, shoulders curling in like he was bracing for a hit. He didn’t cry. He didn’t speak. He just trembled beside me, eyes fixed on the floor.
My chest tightened so badly it hurt to breathe. I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him close, pressing his head into my side.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Mama’s here.”
David glanced at us. Just once. Then he sneered.
“Nice act,” he said flatly. “Both of you. If there were awards for this, you’d win. Pretending to be sick, pretending to be broken, just to get my sympathy. Do you really think I can’t see through it? The real victim here is Roxanne.”
Roxanne suddenly bent forward with a soft cry. “David… my stomach hurts…”
That was all it took.
He didn’t even think.
He picked her up and ran toward the doctor’s area like she was glass. His shoulder smashed into mine as he passed and I fell.
“Fuck! Get your ass away from here, Isabella!”
My elbow hit the marble floor hard. Pain shot up my arm and straight into my skull. I sucked in a breath but no sound came out.
He never looked back.
I stayed on the floor longer than I should have.
People stared. Some whispered. Some pretended I wasn’t there.
Ryle knelt beside me, tugging my sleeve with shaking hands. His eyes were full of fear. I forced myself up, every movement burning, and pulled him into my arms again.
Then I went back to the line.
Step by step.
When it was my turn, I signed the discharge papers without speaking. My hands shook so badly my name didn’t even look like mine.
…
We went home.
The house felt dead. No sound. No warmth. Just cold walls and air that smelled empty. Ryle took off his shoes carefully, like he was afraid to make noise. Then he suddenly stopped and grabbed my hand hard. Too hard.