Chapter 4

Late that night, Liam and Chloe left the room.

I opened my eyes, got out of bed, and followed them.

At the end of the hallway, Liam pulled Chloe into a comforting embrace, soothing her softly.

"It's okay, don't be so sad."

His hand stroked her back with a practiced tenderness, full of raw concern.

Chloe's face was buried in his shoulder, her shoulders shaking subtly.

"But... the baby..."

Her voice was fragmented.

"Alice... she loved that baby so much..."

"If I hadn't insisted you come with me to the west side to watch the sunrise today, to watch that movie, to buy those warm donuts from that artisanal bakery..."

"It's not your fault, this was an accident. No one wanted this."

Liam cut her off, pressing his chin into her hair.

That intimate gesture made my stomach churn once more.

Earlier that morning, Liam had said he had a small mission and Chloe needed to go with him.

His tone was normal; he even tucked me in carefully, telling me to rest more.

I'd seen the bloodshot veins in his eyes and just thought he was tired, worrying about his safety.

How could I have doubted them?

They were my husband and my most trusted best friend.

My unwavering trust, how utterly laughable it seemed now.

Chloe looked up, tear tracks glistening in the dim light.

"Liam, I suddenly feel so guilty towards Alice. She's your wife."

Liam looked at her, his eyes brimming with emotions so thick they almost spilled over.

It was pain, tenderness, and torment-all tangled into a gaze reserved for one person, a gaze that had never, not once, settled on me with such profound intensity.

"Chloe, don't think like that," his voice was hoarse.

"I'm the one who's sorry."

"As for Alice... I'll take care of her."

A deeper pain and self-reproach flickered in Chloe's eyes.

She opened her mouth, then buried her face in his embrace once more.

And I stood there, in the shadows.

Watching my husband and my best friend.

Comforting each other in their shared grief, on the very night I lost my child.

It turned out the deepest pain wasn't their deception.

It was the unspoken, bone-deep connection and anguish between them.

That shared, secret world that completely shut me out.

I didn't disturb them. I just slowly, step by step, retreated back to my hospital room.

The next day, Chloe's eyes were still swollen, but she'd already put on an expression of disdain.

She picked apart Liam's porridge for being too hot, and the side dishes for being too salty.

Liam frowned, refuting her occasionally.

But neither of them mentioned the baby.

If it had been before, seeing them like this, I would have felt relieved, felt happy.

But now, I leaned against the headboard, watching them in silence.

Every deliberately averted gaze. Every unnatural pause. Every raised voice, meant to cover their guilt-ridden arguments. They were like countless tiny needles, piercing my heart.

I grew silent.

All day, I either stared blankly out the window or closed my eyes, pretending to sleep.

Talking required strength.

Dealing with them required energy.

And all my strength and energy had drained away with the tiny life I would never meet.