I'd cried until my eyes were raw, but Edward just smiled through the pain and pulled me close.
"Don't cry. As long as you and the baby are safe, this scar is nothing. I'd lose the whole hand if it meant protecting you two."
That scar—once a symbol of his devotion—now felt like a blade twisting in my chest.
Without thinking, I reached for his hand, my fingers tracing the raised ridge of tissue.
"Does it still hurt?"
Edward blinked, instinctively curling his fingers away. "That healed ages ago. Why bring it up now?"
I lowered my gaze. "Just... remembering how things used to be."
"How good you were to me. To our baby."
His expression softened into that familiar tenderness. He caught my hand and held it tight.
"Silly girl. When have I ever stopped being good to you?"
"The moment you got pregnant, I swore to myself—I'd die before I let anything happen to you or our child."
His eyes glistened, his voice thick with emotion.
"That's exactly why I can't let you go through with this pregnancy. Don't you see? I can't stand by and watch you carry a baby for nine months only to... to hold it in your arms while it dies. That would destroy you. It would destroy me."
Such a thoughtful reason.