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Losing my child The final strike Novel Cover

Losing my child The final strike

"Look at her, trapping Cain with a child just to grab attention.” The words slid through the air smoothly, almost lazily, like the woman enjoyed how easily they landed on my back Another voice followed, amused, sharp. “She really thought pregnancy would turn her into Mrs. Forever.” A soft laugh broke out. “I heard it was an accident. But accidents can be useful, right.” "But Leah’s back.” One mocked “She looks even better.” “No wonder Cain never forgot her.” Leah was my Husband's unattainable first love. And now he was standing besides her like the couple they were always meant to be.
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Chapter 3

For a second, no one spoke.

The woman I had slapped stood frozen in front of me, her cheek already blooming red, her eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing like her body could not decide whether to scream or pretend nothing had happened. The others stared at me too, shock slicing through their confidence, their earlier smiles wiped clean, their bodies stiff and uncertain.

Then pain tore through me.

It came sharp and sudden, low in my stomach, so intense it stole the air from my lungs. A violent cramp twisted deep inside me, hot and blinding, and my breath broke with a small, helpless sound before I could stop it. My hand flew instinctively to my abdomen, my fingers pressing hard as my knees weakened beneath me.

I bent slightly despite myself, my vision swimming, sweat breaking out along my spine as nausea rolled up into my throat.

The room laughed. Slow and Deliberate.

“Wow,” Leah said calmly. “You still have that temper.”

I forced myself to straighten, every muscle shaking with effort, my stomach burning like it was being wrung from the inside. I lifted my head slowly and turned toward her, even though my body screamed for me to sit down.

She stood a few steps away, a glass resting lightly in her hand, her posture relaxed, her expression openly curious. Up close, she looked impossibly polished, flawless skin, careful makeup, eyes bright with interest that held no concern at all.

“Still hitting people when things don’t go your way,” she continued lightly. “Some habits really don’t change.”

Another sharp cramp twisted through me, tighter than before, forcing a shallow gasp from my chest. I clenched my jaw and swallowed it down, refusing to let her see how badly it hurt.

“You followed me,” I said, my voice steady only because I forced it to be.

She shrugged, unconcerned. “I was curious. I wanted to see you up close again.”

Her gaze dropped deliberately to my stomach.

“And the baby,” she added softly. “I heard so much about how hard you worked to keep Cain.”

My fingers curled into my palm, my nails biting into skin as my abdomen throbbed painfully.

“I didn’t trap him,” I said. “And I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Leah smiled wider, slow and confident.

“Oh, you don’t have to explain to me,” she said. “Everyone already understands.”

One of the women behind her let out a nervous laugh, trying to reclaim her courage.

“She’s right,” she said. “You always knew how to cling.”

The pain surged again, deep and burning, spreading outward until my legs felt unstable beneath me. My back was damp with sweat now, my breathing shallow and uneven, my body betraying me with every second I stayed upright.

Leah stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“You should really sit,” she said gently. “Pregnancy is fragile, especially when emotions run wild. Cain would be upset if something happened.”

The false concern almost made me laugh.

I lifted my eyes to hers.

“You don’t care about him being upset,” I said quietly. “You care about winning.”

Her smile slipped for half a heartbeat.

Then she leaned in close, close enough that only I could hear her.

“He was never yours,” she whispered. “Not in school. Not in marriage. You were just convenient.”

Something in my chest burned raw. My ears rang. My vision blurred at the edges as another cramp twisted through me, sharp enough that I had to grip the edge of the table beside me to stay standing.

Before I could respond, footsteps rushed toward us.

Cain’s voice cut through the tension.

“What’s going on here?”

Leah reacted instantly.

She stepped back, her posture softening, her shoulders slumping just slightly, her expression rearranging itself into alarm. She dropped her glass and moved toward Cain without hesitation.

“She slapped her,” someone said quickly.

Leah gasped softly and reached for Cain, her hands clutching his jacket like she needed support.

“You’re going to scare her!” Cain snapped, his arm already around Leah’s shoulders, pulling her protectively against him. “What is wrong with you?”

He did not look at me.

Not once.

I stood there bent slightly forward, one hand pressed hard against my stomach, my breathing uneven, pain rolling through me in waves that made my vision swim. My legs trembled. My body screamed for me to sit, to lie down, to stop.

Cain’s hands rubbed Leah’s back soothingly.

“Are you okay,” he asked her urgently. “Did she hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Leah said softly, leaning into him. “I was just worried about her. She looks unwell.”

She glanced at me then, briefly, like I was an inconvenience cluttering the scene.

Cain followed her gaze only for a second.

“Why are people staring,” he said coldly. “What did you do now?”

Another cramp ripped through me, sharper than all the others, forcing a broken breath from my chest. I reached out blindly and braced myself against the table, my fingers shaking violently.

“I tried to leave,” I said through clenched teeth. “They blocked me.”

He frowned, impatience clear on his face.

“You didn’t need to escalate it,” he said. “You’re pregnant. Think before you act.”

Leah’s fingers tightened on his sleeve.

“She’s under a lot of stress,” she murmured gently. “Maybe she misunderstood.”

I let out a short, rough laugh before I could stop myself, the sound scraping my throat.

Misunderstood.

My stomach tightened again, heavy and wrong, fear creeping in beneath the pain now. My hands shook as I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone, blinking hard to clear my vision.

I opened the app and requested an Uber.

It was no use waiting for a man who had already chosen.

Cain finally noticed.

“What are you doing,” he asked sharply.

“I’m leaving,” I said.

“Now,” Leah said softly, concern painted perfectly across her face. “Is that really safe?”

I looked at her, then at Cain.

Her hand was still gripping his arm.

He still had not let go of her.

That was my answer.

The notification appeared on my screen.

Driver on the way.

Leah leaned closer again, her sweetness fading as her voice dropped.

“You really should be careful,” she murmured. “If something happens, people will talk.”

I forced myself to straighten fully, even as pain screamed through my body, even as sweat soaked my back and my legs threatened to give way.

“They already are,” I said clearly.

Then I turned to Cain, my chest tight, my breath shallow and my stomach aching.

“I have no words for you.”

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