Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 21

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.

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.