Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 147

Watching his reaction, a rush of indescribable pleasure surged through me. The thrill urged me to say more. I felt dizzy, and my body seemed burning, but my spirit was wildly excited. I couldn't care about anything else. I just wanted to vent, desperate to let it all out.

Facing his eyes, I forced a smile and spoke with utmost cruelty, "Yes, I just found out back then. It was only five weeks along, tiny, with no heartbeat yet. There was even a threat of miscarriage. I kept having stomach pains all because I was pregnant."

Bryant looked at me, disheveled, his lips quivering. "Why... didn't you tell me?"

"It was our third wedding anniversary when I found out. I was so happy and couldn't wait to share the exciting news with you. I prepared a candlelit dinner for our anniversary and hid the ultrasound in a homemade cake, hoping to surprise you."

Bryant muttered, "I didn't see the cake..."

"You didn't care about me at all that day!" I chuckled, "You were with Margaret, putting the necklace I had been fond of for a long time around her neck. You forgot our anniversary, only celebrating her divorce!"

"A few days later, I wanted you to accompany me for a follow-up visit to the hospital, hoping you'd hold the ultrasound report in your hands."

Watching him fall apart bit by bit, I said faintly, "But when I woke up that morning, you had gone to be with Margaret. You told me to go to the hospital alone! Oh, and the day of the check-up, I was planning to tell you then..."

Bryant apologized, "I'm sorry. I…"

"Don't rush your apologies." I wiped away the falling tears on my cheeks and blinked, "That day, the doctor said the baby was developing well, already had hands and feet, a very healthy baby... But then, on the day Margaret dragged me into that car accident, our child turned into a pool of blood and left us."

Over and over, as if that was all he could say, like a child who had erred.

I shook my head. "You didn't harm me, but the child. But he, he can't answer you now."

In his eyes, there was only pain as he stuttered, "I didn't know. I didn't know you were pregnant. If I had known, I would never have."

I stared at him, numbly replying, "Unfortunately, there are no such ifs."