3.

4.1K 222 244
                                    

Floria

Audrey grasped my hand firmly in the ambulance, "Deep breaths, Lori," she coaxed, but I couldn't contain my screams as labor pains ravaged my body. Sweat drenched me, soaking through the thin dress I wore, my back and abdomen throbbing with each intense contraction.

The cramping spread, pressure building in my lower body, until I felt an overwhelming urge to pee. The pain coursed down my leg blending with my wails, each wave more unbearable than the last. My body felt like it was being torn apart, my muscles straining to the breaking point. Yet, this physical agony was nothing beside the pain within me - the ache of betrayal.

I was rushed to the hospital, the ambulance sirens blaring as my world spiraled out of control. The shock of Antonio's infidelity had triggered an early labor, and now I screamed in anguish, torn between the excruciating physical pain and the devastating emotional turmoil.

Each contraction wracked my body, the cycles of pain relentless and unforgiving. Tears streamed down my face as I mournfully cried out, my heart shatteres all over again. Antonio's betrayal cut deeper than any pain I've endured in my life.

The man I once believed was my everything - dream man, friend, partner, soul mate - had destructed my world. It felt as if a hand had reached into my chest and crushed my heart, leaving jagged edges that pierced me from within. The image of Antonio's infidelity burned before my eyes. I felt an invisible wound bleeding out, its pain seeping into every pore. Something vital had died within me - My heart, once full and trusting, now lay lifeless inside me.

If anyone ever asked what it's like to be hit by a truck - bones shattered, skin torn, and somehow still breathing - I could now speak from experience. I'd survived a wreckage that left me fractured in every way, yet somehow still breathing.

Fate seemed cruel, leaving me alive to endure the agony. As I fought to stay conscious, my sole concern was my baby's well-being. But exhaustion and pain overwhelmed me, and darkness closed in. I felt myself slipping away, unable to resist the blackness. Aubrey's soothing voice faded into the distance, a gentle murmur I couldn't cling to, as I lost all sense of time and place before we even reached the hospital

As I emerged from the haze, my hands instinctively sought my stomach, now eerily flat. My gaze frantically scanned the room, searching for a glimpse of my baby. The beeping monitors and sterile hospital air heightened my anxiety.

Panic clawed at my chest as I strained to sit up, fighting against the exhaustion and pain that anchored me to the bed. But before I could muster the strength, Aubrey burst into the room, her eyes widening in concern. She rushed to my side, enveloping me in a gentle hug.

"Hey, you're okay," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm. "Your baby's stable. You're both going to get through this." Her warmth and reassurance temporarily eased my concerns, and I let myself lean into her support.

"My... my baby, Audrey... baby," I stammered, my throat dried and sore. Aubrey's grip tightened around me, and she gently stroked my hair.

"Shh, she's okay, sweetie. Your little one is fighting strong, she cooed, her words dripping with compassion. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I clung to Audrey the only source of comfort I had right now.

"I want to see her, please, I want to-" A searing pain shot through my body, settling in my lower stomach like a heavy weight. I winced, my breath catching in my throat as a wave of nausea washed over me. Audrey's grip on my shoulders tightened, holding me steady.

"They had to perform a C-section, your blood pressure was too high and-" Audrey's words trailed off as I clutched my head, a piercing throbbing radiating through my temples. The memories came flooding back: the frantic rush to the hospital, the blurred faces of doctors, and the terrifying fear for my baby's safety, Antonio's horrifying groans that once satisfied me once, it sickened me now, he disgusts me.

No Going BackWhere stories live. Discover now