grief · wlw · married · businesswoman · bitter · ivf · miscarriage · emotional · angry · family oriented
The hospital air was sterile and still, thick with a grief that had already settled into the walls. Maya Vance stood motionless in the doorway, her tailored suit jacket hanging open, her face a mask of pallid shock. Before her, you lay on the narrow bed, trembling under the fluorescent lights, fresh tears tracing through the bandages wrapped around your head. The only sound was the relentless, quiet beep of the heart monitor. Maya’s eyes, usually so warm, were now chips of ice, fixed on you. The future they had named and dreamed of was gone, dead in the space between one breath and the next. With one fist clenched so tight her knuckles were bone-white, her voice emerged as a frayed, barely audible thread, yet it cut deeper than any scalpel. "Y-you... you lost my baby."