Too Late To Beg

TAMSIN

James sat beside my hospital bed, staring at me in stunned silence, as though he had not been the cause of the blood that stained my dress, the bruises on my skin, and the unbearable emptiness inside my body.

His presence filled the room, familiar and unwelcome all at once, and I wondered how a man could look so much like home and still feel like a stranger.

“I’m sorry,” he finally found his voice, it was low and rough, the kind of voice that once convinced me he meant every word he spoke. “Tammy, I swear to you, I didn’t know you were telling the truth. I was blinded by my mom's words. If I had known you were truly pregnant, if I had even suspected it, none of this would have happened. I would never have left you. Never.”

I did not look at him. I kept my gaze fixed on the ceiling, on the faint crack that ran through one of the tiles above my bed, thin and crooked, like something broken that had been ignored for too long.

“I don’t want a divorce,” he continued, his hand closing around mine as though he feared I might disappear if he let go. “I don’t understand how you can even think of living without me when I cannot live without you. You are my wife. My life. How am I supposed to exist without you, Tammy?”

The words were passionate, dramatic, and tragically familiar. Once, they would have undone me completely.

“My mind is made up,” I said quietly.

He shook his head, a faint note of frustration creeping into his expression. “You are just reacting to the loss of our baby. You are grieving, saying things you do not mean because you are in pain.”

I almost smiled at that.

“You do not mean what you just said,” he insisted. “I know you better than anyone else. I know your heart. We cannot survive apart. You cannot survive without me.”

I closed my eyes then, not because I was overwhelmed, but because I knew that if I opened them, I would do something crazy and that was bad for my condition.

“Please leave,” I said.

Instead of releasing my hand, he tightened his grip, his other hand covering mine as if he could hold me in place by sheer will alone. “I am not leaving. I will stay with you through your entire hospital stay. I will take you home. I will take care of you. I will not leave your side, Tammy. I promise.”

The door opened before I could respond.

A nurse stood hesitantly in the doorway. “Mr. Whitmore, Miss Parker is asking for you. She says she is in pain and insists on seeing you.”

James stilled. I felt it, the exact moment his promise expired.

“I will be right back,” he said, already standing. “Just a few minutes.”

I watched him leave in a rush, his concern swift and urgent, moving in a direction that had never truly included me.

“James,” I murmured to the empty room, my voice steady despite everything. “Do not make promises you cannot keep.”

The door opened again almost immediately.

For a brief, foolish moment, I thought he had returned.

It was Poppy.

She stopped short when she saw me, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my God, Tammy.”

She crossed the room quickly and took my hand, her fingers trembling. “I tried calling you. Over and over. When you did not answer, I called James. He told me you were here.” Her voice broke. “What happened to you?”

“My baby,” I said, the words scraping painfully out of my throat. “I've lost my baby.”

Her face crumpled, and without hesitation she climbed carefully onto the bed beside me and wrapped her arms around me. That was when everything I had been holding back finally broke loose.

I cried until my chest ached and my throat burned, until the question that had been circling inside me tore free. “Why am I so unlucky? What did I do wrong? What happened to my life?”

She cried with me, holding me tightly, whispering that none of it was my fault.

When the storm passed and we pulled apart, she wiped her face and looked at me closely. “The last time we talked, you were so excited. You were planning that dinner. You were going to surprise James. What happened?”

So I told her.

I told her everything.

By the time I finished, her hands were clenched into fists. “I cannot believe this. James? James loved you. I was sure of it.”

“So was I.”

“I want to leave this hospital,” I said after a moment. "Can I move in with you for a while?"

She protested at first, insisting I wasn't strong enough to leave, but when she saw my face, she nodded. “You can stay with me. As long as you need.”

She helped me dress and supported me as we slowly made our way down the corridor toward discharge. That was when we passed Isla’s room.

The door was open.

“I just want Tamsin to take care of me,” Isla said tearfully. “The doctors say it is high risk, but I trust her. She loves you so much, James. I know without a doubt that she will make sure nothing happens to our baby.”

I stopped walking, and just stood there, staring at them.

“She is a doctor, regardless of her field,” Isla continued. “She knows hospitals. She will notice complications early. I will feel safe with her. Then, after the baby is born, I can leave your lives completely and disappear for good.”

James stood beside her bed, visibly uncomfortable. "But Isla..."

“If anything happens to our baby,” Isla added softly, cutting him off, “it will be your fault.”

James exhaled slowly. “Fine,” he gave in. “I will make Tammy take a year off from work to care for your baby, happy now?”

My nails dug into my palms.

Poppy tightened her arm around my waist. I could tell she was struggling to control her anger at this point.

Isla wrapped her arms around James' body, her face radiating joy as she hugged his waist and thanked him for agreeing.

Then, to my surprise, she looked toward the door and her eyes met mine.

She smiled.

And in that moment, I understood that every single action of hers was calculated and planned. She came prepared for battle.

She was winning.

And James, whether he meant to or not, was letting her.