The Silent Womb's Revenge

Chapter 4

Sophia Williams' hospital registration was linked to Ethan Sullivan's phone number. The medication pickup notification from the hospital flashed directly onto his lock screen.

"Sweetheart, say something!" Ethan's voice cracked with urgency.

Sophia shoved the medicine bag toward him.

"The doctor suggested trying a new medication. Maybe the next IVF attempt will work."

"Good, as long as you're okay." Ethan visibly relaxed, tossing the bag onto the coffee table without a second glance.

Sophia's lips curled into a bitter smile.

There was a time when he would study every word on the prescription leaflets, terrified of missing a single detail.

He used to say that while he couldn’t bear the pain of IVF for her, he would at least remember every hardship she endured for him.

Now, she had handed him miscarriage medication right under his nose.

And he couldn’t even spare it a look.

The air was thick with an unfamiliar perfume, mingling with the scent of roses, churning Sophia’s stomach. A sharp pain suddenly lanced through her abdomen.

"Did you catch a chill?" Ethan reached out to warm her stomach.

Sophia slapped his hand away.

"You smell disgusting."

Ethan sniffed his sleeve and smiled gently. "I’ve been visiting the rose garden too often. I want our fifth anniversary to be perfect." He headed toward the bathroom. "I’ll change right away."

But that morning, he had claimed he was meeting a client.

Sophia couldn’t be bothered to call him out. She simply hummed in response.

Once the sound of running water filled the bathroom, she pulled out her phone.

Five years of marriage had shrunk her social circle to only Ethan’s friends. If she left now, she wouldn’t even have anyone to say goodbye to.

Except for her younger brother, Jacob Williams.

Her finger hovered over the call button, hesitating.

Jacob idolized Ethan. Telling him now would only complicate things.

Better to reach out on the day she left.

Late that night, Ethan’s hand rested on her stomach, his palm warm.

"I’m taking two days off starting tomorrow. I’ll be here for the worst of your menstrual cycle."

Sophia kept her eyes closed, silent.

At three in the morning, a notification chime jolted her awake.

"Did I wake you?" Ethan quickly muted his phone. "Just some last-minute work. Go back to sleep."

Sophia pretended to drift off, but her mind was as sharp as if she’d been doused in ice water.

The same hand that had been soothing her stomach was now typing rapid replies. The muffled chuckle behind her was like a dull knife, carving into her piece by piece.

"Sweetheart?" Ethan tested, voice low.

Sophia held her breath.

Ethan immediately slipped out of bed. As he closed the door, his hushed words dripped with barely contained excitement: "You little minx, sending me pictures like that... You won’t be walking tomorrow."

Her phone buzzed under the pillow. Victoria Taylor had sent three photos:

[Ethan says you’re as dull as wood. I’m much more his type.]

[He told me I look even prettier pregnant than you did during IVF.]

[Oh, and... Has he even noticed you had a miscarriage yet?]

The thermostat was set to 28°C, but Sophia shivered violently.

She pulled out a heating pad and buried it under the covers. For five years, she had lamented that they hadn’t met sooner.

Now, even five more days felt like too long.