They Took My Uterus While She Took My Place in His Bed novel Chapter 6

Liam's eyes shot to mine, wide with disbelief.

His voice cracked.

"What did you say?"

"She had complications, sir."

"To prevent further risks, they had to do a full hysterectomy."

Liam ended the call, his whole body trembling.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice barely rose above a whisper.

"You were in the hospital this whole time, and you never said a word…"

I took a step back.

"Would it have mattered?"

"When I needed you the most, where were you?"

"You knew I ate that damn strawberry cake, and yet you were celebrating Olivia's birthday."

"I was lying in a hospital bed, finding out our baby was gone. And you?"

"You were making wishes with her."

"I was on the operating table, and you were worried that she wasn't sleeping well."

I took a shaky breath and met his gaze.

"Tell me, Liam. Do I even matter to you?"

His lips parted, but nothing came out.

And in that silence, I had my answer.

I exhaled slowly.

"Sign the damn divorce papers. Let's end this the right way."

"No… it's not like that," he muttered.

I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist.

"Charlotte, I screwed up. I should've been there for you."

His voice was soft, almost pleading.

And for the first time in forever, he called me by my name.

Not "hey."

Not "you."

Not Olivia.

Just Charlotte.

I almost laughed.

I had assumed that name had died to him long ago.

"You don't get to say this now."

I yanked my hand free and shook out my wrist like his touch had tainted it.

The way his face twisted—it was the first real pain I'd ever seen from him.

But it didn't matter.

"Stop wasting my time, Liam."

"Sign the damn papers. I'll clear out of your way."

His jaw tightened.

But at least he gave me some comfort after losing my child for good.

I joined a local dog owner group, and everyone was super friendly, teaching me all kinds of things about raising a dog.

Not that it made much difference—my little troublemaker was hellbent on causing chaos every day.

At just three months old, he somehow managed to pick a fight with a fully grown golden retriever.

Got himself a bite on the head.

The golden retriever's owner immediately apologized and insisted on covering the vet bills.

I felt bad about it, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.

He even accompanied me to the vet since he was taking his golden to the pet store next door for a bath.

What I didn't expect was to run into Olivia there.

Apparently, Liam had bought her a cat, and she was here for its vaccinations.

Before all this, when I couldn't have kids, I had begged Liam for a pet—something to fill the void.

He always refused, saying he didn't like having fur in the house.

But now?

He was fine with someone else's cat in his home.

The moment Olivia saw me, she walked over like we were old friends.

"Charlotte! Where have you been?"

"I was so worried about you."

She grabbed my hands, putting on that fragile, pitiful act she did so well.

I pulled my hands away.