Chapter 325: Secret pt 2
The room they brought me to was bright, too bright, the white walls and buzzing fluorescent lights unforgiving. A doctor with rimless glasses and a calm, professional voice introduced himself, I caught the name but immediately forgot it, my mind already spiraling.
"Please lie down," the nurse said gently, helping me onto the narrow bed. I obeyed, folding my hands over my stomach as if I could shield it from what was about to happen.
They dimmed the lights slightly. The machine beside me hummed to life, the ultrasound wand clicking softly as the doctor prepared it.
"This is just routine," he said evenly, the kind of tone that was supposed to comfort. "We’ll check to ensure everything is clear. It shouldn’t take long."
Routine.
Nothing about this felt routine.
The gel was cold against my skin, making me flinch. I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at the screen as the doctor guided the probe across my lower belly. The machine whirred softly, the sound sharp in the silence.
I didn’t breathe. My heart beat so hard it felt like the gel would freeze right over it.
"Uterine lining looks normal," the doctor murmured, mostly to himself, tapping the keys on the machine. "No obvious retained tissue."
I closed my eyes. Relief washed over me, but it was threaded with the sharp sting of grief. No tissue meant I was "clear." No trace of the child I never got to hold. No evidence it had ever been real. Just... gone.
"Everything seems fine," the doctor continued, adjusting the wand. "No signs of infection. But we’ll run bloodwork to confirm, just to be thorough. You’ve been fortunate, it looks like your body has been healing well."
Healing. What a cruel word.
I nodded faintly, afraid my voice would break if I spoke. The gel was wiped away, the machine shut off, and just like that, it was over.
"Rest is still very important," the doctor reminded me. "And no unnecessary stress. Please make sure you take your vitamins and iron supplements as well."
I wanted to laugh at that. No unnecessary stress. My whole life was stress.
As the nurse helped me sit up, Ash was by the door, arms crossed but eyes soft. She didn’t say anything, didn’t press. She just gave me that small nod, like she knew exactly what was going through my head, and that somehow made it worse.
I walked out of that room lighter, but emptier too.
Ash and I stepped out of the building, the sun brighter than I expected, almost mocking. My chest felt heavy, heavier than when I went in, because the doctor’s words had confirmed it all over again, there was nothing left. No trace. I had carried Kael’s child, and now I didn’t.
I stuffed it down quickly, forcing my face blank as we crossed to the car. Ash was quiet too, and I was grateful she didn’t try to fill the silence with something useless.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I caught my reflection in the side mirror. For a second, I didn’t recognize myself. Hollow cheeks, pallid skin, eyes too dark and sunken, as if the life had been drained out of me. Like a shell someone had left behind. My stomach dropped.
I blinked hard, straightened in my seat, forced myself not to fall into that dark pit again. Not here. Not now.
"You eaten?" Ash’s voice cut through my spiral.
I shook my head. "Kael and I... we were about to get something when you arrived."
Her brows pinched. "Then we’re definitely eating. You can’t keep skipping."
I almost told her I wasn’t hungry. That I hadn’t been hungry in weeks. But instead I just nodded, because fighting Ash when she was like this was pointless.
She drove us into the richer part of Madrid, streets polished like they belonged to another world, lined with boutiques and stone balconies. She pulled up outside a high-end restaurant, one of those glass-fronted places where even the awnings screamed money.
As I stepped out, my gaze caught on a motorcycle parked along the curb. For one heartbeat, all I could see was Sylas. That night on his bike, his easy smile, his eyes holding a softness I didn’t deserve. The last time I saw him, at the hospital. He had reached for me, and I’d turned away.
I hadn’t looked back since because after Kael arrived, nothing else mattered.
"Have you... heard from Sylas?" I asked carefully as we walked toward the entrance.
Ash hesitated, glancing at me before sliding her hands into her pockets. "He told me not to tell you this. But he’s been... really down. Won’t leave his bed. Doesn’t want to see anyone."
Guilt slammed into me, heavy and sharp. My chest tightened.
"But," she added quickly, "don’t let him guilt-trip you. That’s just him being dramatic. He always mopes like this when things don’t go his way. Give him time, he’ll bounce back."
I let out a small laugh, but it was thin, brittle, not quite real. My chest still ached.
Inside, the restaurant was all gleaming marble floors and chandeliers. The kind of place Kael would’ve brought me to when things were sort of normal. If anything between us had ever been normal.
I sank into the plush chair across from Ash, staring at the polished cutlery laid out like I was supposed to know how to exist here. My thoughts tangled, twisting over themselves.
I thought telling Kael I loved him would be the end of it. That it would fix everything. That my chest would stop feeling like it was split wide open.
But now, sitting there, I realized it was only the beginning.
The ache stayed quiet, pressing down on my ribs but never spilling out. I tucked it away, where all the other unspoken things lived, and pretended to study the menu Ash slid across to me.
She leaned back in her chair, studying me instead of the food. "Pick something, or I’ll do it for you."
I traced the neat columns of dishes with my eyes, though none of them registered. My voice came out smaller than I meant when I asked, "what about my sister? And the kids?"
Ash blinked, then exhaled softly. "You really want to worry about everyone else right now?"
I shrugged. "It’s easier than worrying about myself."
Her gaze softened, but she answered anyway. "They’re fine. Olivia’s tried reaching out twice, but I’ve stalled her. When you’re ready, you can call her. No pressure."
A rush of gratitude washed through me. I set the menu down and looked at her. "You’ve done so much for me already, Ashlyn. At this point, you could practically own me."
Her lips curved into that sly grin. "Careful, sweetheart. Don’t tempt me."
I let out a laugh, thin, but real enough, and for a moment the air between us felt lighter. Warm.
The moment shattered when her phone buzzed. Ash glanced down, jaw tightening a little, and then she rose from her chair. "I need to take this. Won’t be long."
She didn’t wait for me to respond, already striding toward the glass doors, phone pressed to her ear.
And I was left alone again, staring at the untouched menu, the ache in my chest thrumming quietly like a reminder that no matter how soft the moment, the weight of everything I hadn’t said still followed me everywhere.