“We could have a long engagement. Get to know each other more?” His jaw tenses and ticks and I get the feeling I’m not giving him the answer he wants.
“Long?” His curt tone has me looking up at him again. “I was thinking next month.” Gripping my hand harder than necessary, Mason forces the ring in place. Wincing as it hits the webbing between my fingers, I bite my tongue. “Next month is long enough.”
Smiling because everyone is watching us, I nod but say, “We can talk more later.”
The rest of our meal is filled with tense conversation and congratulations from the staff and residents I know, but I’m not feeling as excited as a bride-to-be should. There’s something in my gut telling me to cancel. To give the ring back.
I wish I’d listened to my gut.
One
LAKEN
My personal hell.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Miller. You’ve lost the baby.”
Lost.
Like she’s been misplaced or forgotten.
Lost.
As though I turned my back and suddenly, she was gone.
Lost.
I’ve heard it multiple times now.
I’ve cried each time.
I’ve vowed never to let it happen again.
Each. Time. I make myself a promise that I won’t get pregnant again. I won’t put myself through this again. I won’t allow my husband to nearly beat me to death and kill my babies.
Because that’s what he does. He gets angry over the littlest things. The dumbest things. Being pregnant has not been easy for me, and over the last year, I’ve carried and lost three babies.Lost.I hate that damn word and everything it represents.
I didn’t lose them. He killed them.
Why? Because morning sickness has ravaged me all day long, violently, and so far, nothing’s helped. Though, this time...this time, I thought it would be different. I made it to nearly four months before Mason lost his temper and threw me down a flight of stairs. I crashed into the doorjamb and knew immediately that another innocent was gone.
“Mrs. Miller?” The nurse—I think her name was Amy—has a look of concern on her face. “Did you hear me?”
Rolling my head to the side, I have no tears left to cry. “Yes.” My dry throat makes my voice crack.
“Laken?” Another nurse, one who was with me the first time and the second, who has seen me in the E.R. three times in between, steps into the room. “What did he do?”
“I need help, Christine.” It’s the first time I’ve asked for it. Admitted it. And I didn’t even know it was coming.
“Amy, call Dr. McMillan. Tell her it’s Laken.” The young nurse nods as Christine takes a seat on the bed with me. One of her hands cups the side of my face where there are old bruises and new ones forming, while the other grips my hand with support. “What happened?”
She knows I won’t talk about it, but she always asks. My entire body aches from the beating I took. All because I told him I couldn’t make it to the gala he was invited to by one of the prestigious architecture companies he works with.
“Laken, darling, how are you?” Dr. McMillan has a security guard with her as she closes and locks the door behind her. “Security has been instructed not to let him in. Your file has been flagged so nobody gets information about your condition or where you are. You are safe.” She takes my other hand as she stares into my eyes, imploring me to understand that now is my chance at freedom.
Doctor and nurse share a look as I close my eyes. I understand I need out. I need help. I’m just so afraid. Mason has made promises I know he’ll keep if I ever leave him. But do I even have a choice anymore? What happens if I carry a baby to term and he turns that rage onto them? I’d never be able to live with myself.
“I want to go home.” The tears finally break.