---- Chapter 8 Elaina Higgins POV: The cramping in my abdomen was a dull, persistent throb. | lay on the cold floor, the anodyne voice of the nurse still echoing in my ears, a surreal soundtrack to the utter implosion of my life. AB negative. The same rare blood type. What a cruel, cosmic joke. | didn't know how long | lay there before | managed to pull myself up. My body felt heavy, alien. A cold dread, different from the one |' d felt before, began to seep into my bones. | called a car service, my movements slow and deliberate. | didn' t go to the hospital. | went to a 24-hour clinic a few miles away. | needed to know what this pain meant. The clinic was sterile and quiet, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic. After a short wait, a kind-faced doctor led me to an examination room. | explained my symptoms, the dizziness, the cramping. He listened patiently, his expression gentle. After an examination and an ultrasound, he turned to me, his face etched with a mixture of sympathy and sorrow. "Ms. Higgins," he began, his voice soft. "You're pregnant. About six weeks along." ---- The words hit me with the force of a physical blow. Pregnant. A tiny, secret life had been growing inside me this whole time. A baby. Derek' s and my baby. A wave of dizzying, complicated emotion washed over me-shock, fear, and a tiny, fragile flicker of something like hope. Maybe... maybe this could change things. But the doctor wasn't finished. His next words extinguished that flicker before it could even catch fire. "I'm so sorry," he said, his eyes full of compassion. "But the fall you took, the concussion... combined with the extreme stress you've clearly been under... you're miscarrying. The cramping you're feeling. it's the beginning of the process. There's nothing we can do to stop it." The world went silent. The doctor's voice faded into a dull buzz. All | could hear was the frantic, useless beating of my own heart. Our baby. The one we had talked about, dreamed about. The one Derek had said would complete our family. It was gone. And he had killed it. His lies, his betrayal, his callous disregard for my well-being... he had pushed me, not just physically, but emotionally, over a cliff. And he had taken our child with me. A sound, raw and broken, tore from my throat. It was the sound of a soul shattering. The doctor left me alone to grieve. | sat in that cold, sterile room for what felt like an eternity, my arms wrapped around ---- my now-empty womb. The tears wouldn't come. | was beyond tears. | was in a place of cold, desolate rage. He didn't deserve to be a father. He didn't deserve my love, my loyalty, my forgiveness. He didn't even deserve my grief. He deserved to be destroyed. | finally left the clinic, a copy of the ultrasound and the doctor's report clutched in my hand like a death sentence. When | got back to the apartment, Derek was there, pacing like a caged animal. "Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice frantic with worry. "I've been calling you for hours! The hospital..." "| know," | said, my voice devoid of any emotion. "They called me. He had the audacity to look relieved. "Thank God. Listen, Elaina, | know this is a lot to ask. A crazy amount. But Cory... she could die. We're the only match they can find in time. Please. | am begging you. Do this one thing for me, and | will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. | swear." | looked at him, truly looked at him. At his handsome, pleading face. At the man | had once loved more than life itself. And | felt nothing but a profound, bottomless loathing. He was asking me to save his mistress while our child was dying inside me because of him. ---- "Alright, Derek," | said, my voice eerily calm. "I'll do it." His face flooded with gratitude. "Thank you," he breathed, pulling me into a hug. "Thank you, Elaina. You are a saint. An angel." | didn't hug him back. | stood stiffly in his arms, the doctor's report a cold, hard rectangle against my chest. At the hospital, they rushed me into a room. The doctor there looked concerned. "Given your recent concussion, I'd really like to run some tests before we do this..." "There's no time!" Derek snapped, his voice sharp with impatience. "She's fine. | know her health better than anyone. Just take the blood." The doctor hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. The needle was cold against my skin. | watched as my blood, the very life force that should have been nurturing our child, was drawn from my body to save the life of his lover. Derek held my hand, squeezing it tight. "You're doing a good thing," he whispered, his eyes fixed on the door to Cory's room. His concern, his focus, it was all for her. | was just a tool. A blood bag. After they had taken two pints, | felt dizzy and weak. The cramping was getting worse. Derek barely noticed. The moment they were done, he released my hand. ---- "I'm going to go check on her," he said, already moving toward the door. "The driver will take you home. Get some rest. I'll see you at the altar tomorrow." He didn't even look back. As | sat there, alone and bleeding, my phone vibrated. A text from Cory. Heard you were my personal blood bank tonight. Tastes sweet, knowing it's yours. Thanks for saving me. Now I'll have plenty of energy to be the future Mrs. Gomez. See you at the wedding... or not. Attached was a photo. A selfie of her and Derek. He was leaning over her hospital bed, kissing her forehead. His expression was one of pure, unadulterated adoration. That was it. That was the final nail in the coffin of my dead love. | stood up, my legs shaking, and walked out of the hospital. | didn't take the car Derek had arranged. | walked to a nearby hotel, checked in under a fake name, and made one last call. It was to the private investigator. "| have a job for you," | said, my voice cold and clear as a winter morning. "It's for a wedding tomorrow. And | want it to be spectacular."