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He Tore My Heart Apart Novel Cover

He Tore My Heart Apart

Dr. Alice Brown, a brilliant surgeon, discovers her politician husband Jaxon's cruel betrayal—a marriage built on lies. When she teams up with journalist Chris Charms to expose Jaxon's corruption, their investigation triggers a deadly game of cat-and-mouse.
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Chapter 4

I stared at the consent forms on the desk before me, the words blurring through my tears. My hand trembled as I held the pen, unable to bring myself to sign away the life growing inside me.

"The longer you drag this out, the harder it will be," Olivia said from the chair beside me, examining her manicured nails with feigned boredom. "Just sign it, Alice. We all know you will eventually."

I looked up at her, this woman I had once called my best friend, now watching my torment with barely concealed satisfaction. "Why are you even here? Where's Jaxon?"

"Important meeting with campaign donors," she replied with a dismissive wave. "He asked me to make sure you... followed through." The slight pause and the curl of her lip made it clear—I was just another task to be managed, an inconvenience to be handled.

"He said if I don't do this..." My voice caught on the words.

"He'll divorce you and ruin your career," Olivia finished for me, her voice matter-of-fact. "We both know he can do it, Alice. The hospital board chairman plays golf with him every Sunday."

The pen felt impossibly heavy in my hand. I thought of the baby—six weeks, barely formed, but already mine to protect. And I was failing.

"I can't," I whispered.

Olivia leaned forward, her perfume overwhelming in the small space. "Think about it, Alice. What kind of life would this child have with a mother who's falling apart? You can barely take care of yourself. And Jaxon has made it clear he wants no part of it."

"Sign the papers," she continued, her voice softening to a mockery of compassion. "Put this mistake behind you. In time, when Jaxon's career is established, maybe you can try again. When the timing is right."

With tears streaming down my face, I signed my name on the line, feeling something vital break inside me.

Olivia's smile was triumphant as she took the forms. "Good girl. I'll let the doctor know you're ready."

The procedure itself passed in a haze of sedation and grief. I was awake but detached, floating somewhere above my body as they took my baby from me. I heard the doctor's clinical instructions, felt the cold instruments, but my mind had retreated to a place where this wasn't happening.

"All done," Dr. Levinson said eventually, his voice professionally neutral. "You'll experience some cramping and bleeding for a few days. Take it easy."

In the recovery room, Olivia sat scrolling through her phone, barely glancing up when I emerged. "Finally. Ready to go?"

The drive home was torture. Every bump in the road sent pain through my empty womb. Olivia filled the silence with casual cruelty.

"You're being so dramatic about this, Alice. Women have abortions every day. It's not like it was even a real baby yet."

I pressed my forehead against the cool window glass, letting her words wash over me without response. There was nothing left to say. I felt hollow, scraped out from the inside.

When we reached the penthouse, Olivia didn't bother coming up. "Jaxon will be home late. Don't wait up." Her parting smile was all teeth. "Take your pain meds. You'll feel better tomorrow."

I knew I wouldn't.

The apartment was silent and cold when I entered. On the kitchen counter sat a note in Jaxon's precise handwriting: "Fundraiser tonight. Made the right choice. We'll move forward now."

No words of comfort. No acknowledgment of my loss. Just the cold calculus of his ambition.

I stumbled to the master bathroom, locking the door behind me. Sinking to the floor, I finally let myself break completely. Great, heaving sobs tore from my chest, echoing against the marble tiles.

I cried for my baby, for the family I'd never have, for the woman I used to be who believed in love and marriage and happily ever after.

My gaze drifted to Jaxon's side of the bathroom counter, where his straight razor gleamed under the vanity lights. He insisted on using it, claiming electric razors were for men who lacked precision. The irony wasn't lost on me as I reached for it with trembling fingers.

I pressed the cool metal against my left wrist, feeling a strange calm settle over me. One quick, deep stroke and crimson bloomed against my pale skin. The pain was distant, almost pleasant compared to the agony in my heart.

The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was the bathroom door splintering open and Sora's horrified face appearing above me.

"Alice! Oh God, Alice, stay with me!"

But I was already floating away, toward a darkness that promised an end to pain.

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