---- Chapter 21 Liam waited at the hospital, pacing the sterile hallway outside Clara's room. He wasn't waiting out of concern for her. He was waiting for confirmation. Confirmation that the last tie to his mistake was about to be born, and then he could put it behind him forever. He repeated his mantra to his grandfather, who had insisted on coming with him. "I love Ava. | only love Ava. This baby... it's just a loose end to be tied up." Suddenly, a doctor came out of Clara's room, looking concerned. "Mr. Kane," the doctor said, "we're having some complications. Ms. Bell is in a lot of distress." Liam just nodded, his face impassive. The doctor, a kind-looking older woman, hesitated. "Mr. Kane... | was just looking at Ms. Bell's chart. I'm the head of OB/GYN here, and | saw a note from a few months ago. It lists you as the emergency contact for another patient. An Ava Ross." Liam's head snapped up. "What about her?" "Well," the doctor said, looking confused, "it's just that Ms. Ross was brought in for an emergency D&C. She'd had a miscarriage at ten weeks. The chart notes that we tried to contact you several times, but you were unreachable." ---- The world tilted on its axis. Miscarriage. Ten weeks. My "exhaustion," my collapse, my two trips to the hospital. It hadn't been stress. It had been a baby. Our baby. A baby | had conceived, carried, and lost, all while he was running around with Clara. And he had never known. He stumbled back, his hand flying to his mouth. He remembered me in that hospital bed, so pale and quiet. He had babbled on about the wedding, about our future, while | was grieving the loss of our child. The monstrousness of his own ignorance, his own selfishness, hit him with the force of a tidal wave. He remembered my quiet sadness, my withdrawn behavior. He had thought it was about him, about his suspicions of an affair. It was so much deeper, so much more painful than that. | had been suffering an unimaginable loss, and | had been doing it completely alone. A guttural sound of pure agony ripped from his throat. He clenched his fist and slammed it into the wall, again and again, the physical pain a welcome distraction from the inferno of guilt and self-loathing that was consuming him. "No, no, no," he chanted, his forehead pressed against the cool plaster of the wall. Just then, the doctor came rushing back out of Clara's room, her face pale. "Mr. Kane!" she said, her voice sharp with shock. "We've just done an ultrasound. There's no baby. There was never a baby. ---- All her lab work, the reports she showed us... it was all fake. She's not pregnant." Liam stopped, his bloody fist frozen in mid-air. He slowly turned to face the doctor, his eyes wide with a dawning, horrific understanding. A fake pregnancy. A lie. The entire foundation of his betrayal, the event that had cost him everything... it was all built on a lie. He turned and kicked open the door to Clara's room, a terrifying, murderous rage contorting his features.