CHAPTER TWO
Finally In Futility
WANITA'S POV
My body betrayed me.
It was two days after I got fired
It started with a cramp that was sharp.
The pain emanated for low in my abdomen while I was vacuuming the carpet.
It felt as if someone was dutifully twisting a good blade just above my hips.
I thought it was Braxton-Hicks.
Or maybe it was just my uterus protesting at yet another sleepless night.
But, it hadn't been.
And, I regretted ignoring the signs.
That was because by the time it was noon, the cramp had turned into a flood.
It was not water and neither was it mucus that seeped down my thighs.
It was that red viscous liquid.
Blood.
It was dark as it began gushing down my legs like a faucet I couldn't shut off.
I screamed—once, in fright.
The apartment echoed with my panic as I tried to hold a cloth to my core.
Blood soaked it fast.
I grabbed my phone with shaky hands and began to dial Jake's phone number.
It rang, thrice.
But no one took the call.
It went straight to voicemail.
So I tried, again and again.
I left him six calls.
Then, seven.
But there was no reply, nothing.
My body was beginning to shiver with fright as I stood there, bleeding out.
Was I going to die?
My legs finally gave out.
I managed to crawl to the bathroom to get a few more clean towels.
The blood I left behind me was like the trail of some wounded animal.
My vision began to blurr.
My hands were trembling so bad.
I ended up dropping the phone into the thick puddle forming on the tile.
I couldn't die here.
Not like this.
Not when I was alone.
I needed to get help.
I somehow dragged myself to the front door and slipped on my sandals.
I stumbled down three flights of stairs while still clutching my belly tightly.
It felt like I could still hold it together.
The street was hot with the blinding sun as I staggered towards the curb.
I remember thinking that I just needed to make it to the corner.
I just needed to flag a cab.
But my knees had buckled underneath me and my legs had given out.
My entire world tilted before me.
And finally, I was falling to the ground.
Was I going to die now?
But I didn't because something held me back, strong arms around my waist.
I was pulled up from my falling transit and slammed into a solid masculine chest.
Sandalwood filled my nostrils.
A deep voice that was calm but urgent came to me: "Hey—hey, stay with me."
I stared up at him.
Everything was a blur, even him.
I tried to speak.
But, all that came out was a whimper.
Then, I blacked out in his arms.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
When I came back to life it was to the steady beep of a machine that I didn't understand.
I tried to sit up in bed and a sharp pain shot through my from my stomach.
I nearly doubled over on the bed.
A nurse with kind eyes and tired hands was instantly standing by my bedside.
"You're awake," she said softly. "You lost a lot of blood," she continued.
She stepped forward and helped me to sit up on the bed with sad eyes.
Her expression was weighted with something I didn't yet want to name.
Why was she looking at me like that?
Was I a ghost?
Suddenly, my brain registered it.
My hand flew to my stomach.
But, it was flat.
I didn't need the nurse or any other medical personnel to tell me it was empty.
"No," I whispered.
My heart shattered.
"No, no, no—"
"I'm so sorry, Mrs…?"
She paused.
"Your husband didn't happen to give us a last name," she proceeded to explain.
Tears formed in the corner of my eyes.
"You lost the baby. An emergency surgery was done, but he was still born."
The tears fell.
I wept, like a grieving mother.
My wails were horrible.
The ugly, gasping sounds tore out of my mouth from somewhere broken.
My heart cracked into lesser shards with each sound that I made there.
The nurse allowed me to cry until my eyes were dry and my throat was raw.
She patted my back in comfort.
"Let it all out," she whispered.
After about thirty minutes or so, there was no test left for me to cry.
My eyes were dry.
"I believe your husband would be back soon," the nurse began to say.
I looked at her.
They had called Jake?
I blinked. "Husband?"
"Yes," she breathed. "He had stayed until the doctor confirmed everything."
My brows rose.
I have her a quizzical look.
"Who called him in?"
She returned the look.
"He brought you in," she pointed out.
I scrunched up my nose.
"The tall man with daark hair?"
My throat closed.
That wasn't Jake.
My husband never came.
I knew because Jake had blonde hair.
There was no way on earth he had dyed it black and I hadn't kno—
Realization washed over me.
It was him.
The stranger from the curb.
The man who had caught me and saved me from a fatal death—my saviour.
"He paid the entire bill for the ER, surgery and overnight stay upfront."
"He is not my husband," I whispered the correction. "He's just a good Samaritan."
The nurse back tracked.
"Oh! Sorry. We assumed…"
She trailed off, embarrassed.
"He said you would be disoriented and told us to tell you he would be back soon."
I reached for my phone while was sitting pretty on the bedside table.
There were roughly twelve missed calls from me to him with zero replies.
I called him again.
"The number you have dialed is currently unavailable," was what graced my ears.
I laughed.
It was a broken, hollow sound.
Of course.
I had been bleeding out on the sidewalk while he was probably sipping coffee some men somewhere in a boardroom.
It didn't matter now.
I was fine.
Two days later, still, Jake hadn't come.
But, he called.
He had sounded disappointed about the news of the lost pregancy.
I didn't blame him.
"I'm trying to secure a deal with the men Solara linked me up with."
That was what he had siad.
That was his reason for not being at the hospital with me after my still birth.
Work.
"I will be back to town soon to come check you out of the hospital and pay the bills."
"But I am—"
The line had gone dead.
He kept the call before I could finish and add the word—alone.
Because that's what I was.
I was alone.