Chapter 359
The car pulls away from the hospital, and for a while, there’s only silence and then the tears come again.
I don’t try to stop them this time. They fall freely, my shoulders shaking as everything I’ve been holding back breaks loose. I press my face into my hands, sobbing as the pain rips through me again and again.
My baby… My baby is gone… it hurts so fucking much. After everything I’ve been through. After fighting Noah to keep him. After waiting for months for him and he is just gone. How am I supposed to live with this crashing pain? With this crashing guilt? How am I supposed to go home alone?
“Are you okay?” the driver asks gently after a while.
I nod even though I know he can see me.
“Yeah,” I lie, my voice barely steady.
He doesn’t question it, he just nods and keeps driving.
It feels like I’m being gutted from the inside. Like everything inside me died the moment I realized that he didn’t make it.
By the time the car pulls to a stop, my tears have slowed, but the ache in my chest hasn’t. It sits there, heavy and unrelenting, like something hollowed me out and left nothing behind.
I reach for my bag out of instinct, but my hands come up empty and I realize I don’t have anything with me.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my voice rough from crying. “I don’t have anything on me. I p>
“It’s alright,” the driver interrupts gently, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it p>
I lift my gaze to meet his in the rearview mirror, surprised by the kindness in his expression. He offers me a small, reassuring smile.
“Just make sure you’re okay,” he adds, his voice soothing.
My throat tightens again, and I nod, even though I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay again.
“Thank you,” I whisper before pushing the door open and stepping out of the car.
The air outside is cooler, brushing against my damp cheeks as I stand there for a moment, trying to steady myself. My body still feels weak, my head light, but none of it matters. The only thing I can feel clearly is the emptiness inside me, the space where something so important used to be.
I watch as the cab pulls away, disappearing down the road, and once it’s gone, the silence settles around me in a way that feels almost suffocating. There’s nothing here to distract me now, nothing to pull my thoughts away from the truth that sits heavy inside me.
My baby is gone.
The words echo in my mind, over and over again, until they feel like the only thing that exists.
I wrap my arms around myself as if I can hold what’s left of me together, but it doesn’t help. Nothing does.
That dream. It tried warning me, but I didn’t listen. Chloe took my child from me in the dream and now her sister has taken him from me in the real world.
I should have listened. I should have heeded the warning, but I didn’t and now I’ve lost my baby.
After a moment, I draw in a shaky breath and begin walking toward the cliff, my steps slow and uneven at first as my body struggles to keep up. Each movement sends a dull ache through me, but I ignore it, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.
The closer I get, the quieter everything seems to become, like the world itself is holding its breath.
The sound of my footsteps against the ground feels too loud in the silence, my breathing too harsh in my ears.
When I finally reach the edge, I stop.
The drop below is steep, the rocks jagged, the wind moves with a force that should scare me. It should make me hesitate. It should make me step back… But it doesn’t.
All I can think about is the pain inside me, the unbearable weight of it, and how desperately I want it to stop.
I take another step forward, my toes reaching the very edge, and close my eyes for a brief second as a tear slips down my cheek.
There’s nothing left for me here.
He is not here with me and he will never be… so I might as well end it in the place it began.