He knew my desire for a child was my weakness, certain that the mention of it would sway me.
But I no longer trusted him. Without hesitation, I slapped the bowl out of his hands.
"I said I’m not drinking it." I deadpanned.
For a moment, his gentle expression froze, and a flicker of displeasure crossed his eyes.
I thought breaking the bowl would let me escape, but the next second, darkness overtook me, and I lost consciousness.
When I woke up again, it was already the next morning.
A sense of foreboding filled me. Pulling back the blanket, I saw a surgical scar on my abdomen.
My world instantly crumbled. I wanted to confront Jacob, but before I could, he explained, "Sweetheart, you fainted suddenly last night. The doctors ran some tests and found cancerous changes in your uterus, so I had them remove it."
Afraid I wouldn't believe him, he even showed me the medical report. Sure enough, it stated uterine cancer.
If I hadn’t witnessed his instructions to the doctor with my own eyes, I might have fallen for his lie.
Staring at the hideous scar on my belly, I felt as though my heart had been ripped apart, leaving only a gaping void of despair.