Chapter 1,
Calliope’s POV
The very day I lost my baby and nearly lost my womb, my husband was in another woman’s hospital room down the hall, attending to her allergic reaction.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Frost. There was nothing we could do. You’re fortunate you arrived in time – any longer and you would have lost your womb,” the doctor’s words reverberated in my mind.
The day began like any other. Thaddeus rose from bed and dressed for work–a rare occurrence for him in the past two weeks, as he spent those nights away on his business trip to Everstead. He had returned just last night, and I had delighted in preparing his
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favorite meal. After a customary goodbye, he left.
A few hours later, his voice cut through the airwaves. Urgent, demanding seafood to be brought to his office. I was puzzled -Thaddeus never cared for seafood–but before I could ask, the call ended abruptly.
In my role as the dutiful wife, I went to the market, bought ingredients, and proceeded with the cooking. No sooner had I finished than I was on the road toward his office when, unexpectedly, a blizzard struck–chaos erupted on the streets.
My car was among those ensnared in the melee, teetering on the edge of a cliff. It had flipped over several times before reaching this precarious perch. My whole body screamed with pain, bruised and battered, my abdomen aflame with agony as I cried
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out for help.
In desperation, I reached for my phone, finding missed calls and messages from Thaddeus. I dialed his number, but his icy voice cut through the line.
“Calliope, how could you be so vicious?”
“Thaddeus, I-”
“Seafood! It was a simple task, and yet you failed. I provide for you in every way, but you can’t show me the same courtesy. Don’t call again.”
The line went silent, the dial tone echoing my disbelief. I attempted to call, text–and was met with silence.
And then panic seized me as my car lurched forward, beginning its slow descent toward
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the abyss. I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the wind. As the car fell, my mind was a storm of sadness and indignation at Thaddeus’s indifference over seafood.he didn’t even eat.
Yet before disaster struck, a tractor intervened, catching the vehicle mid–air. I was rescued and whisked away to the hospital.
“So you understand, Mrs. Frost. You were three weeks pregnant, but the baby didn’t survive the accident. Had you arrived later, you might have lost your womb due to severe bleeding,” the doctor explained.
“Is there anyone you would like us to contact for you?” he asked.
My mind, a cloudy haze, barely registered his words through the cacophony of recent
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memories. I shook my head, swallowing the bitter truth of losing the child I never knew.
“What about your husband?” he continued.
His question was a stab to my heart. Forty missed calls and twenty messages in the last hour, yet Thaddeus remained silent. How could he be so heartless?
The doctor took my silence as an answer, nodding and adjusting his glasses. “I’ll leave you to rest. You’ll be discharged tomorrow once we’re certain you’re stable,” he added, his voice a well of professional concern.
As he turned to leave, he paused, “If you need someone to talk to, we can recommend an excellent therapist.”
I offered a vacant nod, watching the door close gently behind him. Then, hope surged
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within me as I dialed Thaddeus’s number
once more.
The familiar ringing drifted from the hallway, igniting a flicker of optimism–maybe he hadn’t abandoned me after all, maybe he was here.
But the ringing ceased, and hope dimmed. again. My frown deepened; I was sure of that sound–had he truly come? How many share a ringtone comprised of their own voice?
I stepped out of the ward with a frown and redialed his number. Making my way to the next room, I heard his phone chirping away within.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I opened the door. The sight that met my eyes sent a chill down my spine.
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