Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson)

All the anticipation just drained away in an instant, leaving me feeling bone-chillingly cold all over. Utter despair must be what I'm feeling right then.

Holding the phone, I was unable to speak for a long while. I wanted to ask something, but it seemed utterly pointless.

Where he had gone was obvious without saying. I had made it clear to him there wouldn't be a next time. So, that was his choice, right? After all, adults understand the art of choice, weighing the pros and cons.

After his deliberation, I was the one left behind. Subconsciously, my hand drifted to my stomach, and suddenly, I wondered if I should keep this child. Once decided, cutting ties with him would become nearly impossible, even if I wanted to. The custody of the child would be a huge issue.

On the other end, he called out, "Jane?"

"Yeah." I didn't say much more. Or rather, I didn't want to exchange another unnecessary word with him at that moment.

After breakfast, I drove to the hospital. I had wanted Bryant to accompany me, thinking it would be a happy surprise.

I didn't bother Emma. It was not like I was already heavily pregnant and couldn't move.

Maybe it was the turmoil in my thoughts, but I didn't react in time when a car unexpectedly cut in front of me. There was a loud crash.

After I regained my senses, I felt the world spinning, and I dialed Bryant's number with the remaining strength.

After we got married, the first thing I did was set him as my emergency contact.

'Bryant was my husband now.' The thought alone was enough to keep me overjoyed for a long time, eager to do something to manifest our relationship. But after much thought, all I could come up with was setting the emergency contact. And Bryant didn't even know about it. It was a celebration for me only.

Just like now, the phone rang for what seemed like an eternity, but I got no answer.

The pain started to radiate from my stomach, and when thinking of the child, panic seized me.

'Bryant, please pick up the phone!' I prayed in my heart.

Finally, the call went through.

But instead of Bryant's, Margaret's soft and sweet voice came from the other end. "Jane, what's the matter? Didn't Bryant tell you he's too busy to bother with you today?" Her voice, sharp and swift like a knife, plunged deep into my chest, leaving me bleeding out.

I couldn't breathe. Tears streamed down my face, and my fingers trembled uncontrollably. I never imagined that years of love could, in a moment, be tainted with hate.

Feeling drained by my loathing, darkness enveloped me, pulling me into an abyss.

When I woke up, my eyes met a sea of white.

The IV drip-fed medicine into my veins, leaving a cool sensation on the back of my hand.

Memories of before I lost consciousness flooded back, and I instinctively touched my stomach, still feeling a dull ache.

'My child...' With each passing second, the agony intensified. I abruptly sat up, intending to find a doctor.

"Jane!" The door to the room burst open, and upon seeing me trying to get up, Christine rushed in, pressing me back down, panic-stricken. "Don't move. You're still on the IV. Do you not want your hand anymore?"

I was never one to cry easily, but thinking of my child, I couldn't help myself. I looked up into Christine's worried eyes, and tears rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably.

"Christine, my baby..."

I regretted it all. Thinking back to before I left the house, I had been contemplating whether to keep the child, and I was overwhelmed with guilt.