Chapter 313: Loss
ARIA
The silence after Ash’s words was louder than anything I’d ever heard.
It hollowed me out.
I couldn’t breathe. My chest hurt so badly it felt like my ribs were splintering, stabbing inward. And in that suffocating stillness, I remembered. That dream. The boy. Green eyes like Kael’s, a smile that could’ve lit the world, climbing into our sheets as if he belonged there. My son. My maybe. My never.
The thought stabbed through me, so sharp I had to curl into myself to hold it in, to survive it.
My heart wouldn’t stop breaking.
Ash shifted closer, panic in her voice. "Aria, hey... don’t do this, please. Just breathe. Focus on resting, okay? Don’t think about it now."
But how could I not? What if I hadn’t been so careless? What if I’d noticed sooner? That my period had been absent for months. What if I hadn’t pushed him away? What if I wasn’t me?
The what-ifs carved me open until the tears turned into quiet sobs, then into soft, broken wails I couldn’t swallow down anymore. My shoulders shook, and I pressed my hands to my face as if that would keep the grief from spilling out. It didn’t.
Everything blurred again, voices and machines and the sterile air fading into the background. It was just me and the ache, that violent, tearing absence inside me where something had been... someone.
When I finally forced my head up, Ash’s face was blurry through tears, tight with worry, eyes glassy. She reached for me again.
"Don’t," I whispered hoarsely, pushing her hand down only to grip it myself, clinging. "Don’t... just answer me. Who else knows?"
She froze. "...No one. Just me. I spoke to the doctor alone."
A choked breath escaped me. My grip on her hand tightened until it hurt. "Then don’t tell anyone. Please. Not even Olivia. Or Sarah. Not... " My voice broke on his name. "...not Kael. No one can know, Ash. Please."
Her mouth parted like she wanted to argue, her hesitation clear in her eyes.
"Please." The word tumbled out again, wrecked and desperate. "I can’t... I can’t let anyone know. Swear it."
Finally, she exhaled shakily, nodding. "Alright. I promise. But you need to rest, Aria. More than anything. You lost too much blood... the doctors said it was close. If you push yourself, it could..." She trailed off, swallowing hard. "You have to let your body heal, okay?"
I nodded faintly, but inside, nothing felt like it could ever heal.
There was only that emptiness. That raw, gaping hollow inside me where a heartbeat could have been.
Where a little boy with Kael’s eyes would never exist.
I lay perfectly still, eyes closed, breathing shallow. Pretending to be asleep so no one would bother me. The room faded into silence... the hum of machines, Ash’s soft movements, even my own heartbeat. All of it blurred into nothingness.
Inside, though, my thoughts screamed.
Every time I buried someone I loved, it was like lowering another piece of myself into the ground with them. My mother. My father. And now this... this child I never even got to meet, never even knew I was carrying until it was gone. What else is left of me? What part of me is still alive?
Ash had tried to keep it gentle, but I’d pressed until she finally admitted it. My body had failed because of me. Because of the alcohol. The numbness I chased every night. I killed my own child.
The guilt pressed down on my chest until I couldn’t breathe, like the weight of the entire world had been stacked on my ribs. I wanted to claw my chest open just to relieve the pressure. I wanted to disappear into the sheets and never come back.
With every second, the spiral pulled me lower, darker.
I wished I’d stayed unconscious. Wished I’d slipped into that void and never woken up. Because what was the point? To live with this pain? To carry around another grave inside me?
I couldn’t.
I didn’t want to.
The only wish left in me... the only thought that gave me any sense of peace... was to die.
....
The scan was a blur. Cold gel against my abdomen, the hum of the machine, the doctor’s voice low and professional, speaking words I couldn’t absorb. I stared at the ceiling, eyes unfocused, body stiff as stone. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t want answers. Whether it was "complete expulsion" or "retained tissue" didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
I was barely there. A husk in a hospital gown. Breathing because my body hadn’t given me the mercy of stopping. I couldn’t even bring myself to meet the doctor’s eyes, only nodded faintly when they explained the procedure was necessary. My hands trembled in my lap, cold and useless, while Ash stayed rooted nearby, her presence the only thing I allowed into my little cracked world.
When it was over, they wheeled me back into the room. I turned my face toward the window, ignoring the weak light spilling through the blinds, and prayed no one else would come in.
But of course, they did.
Sarah burst in first, her sob already splitting the sterile air before she even reached me. "Aria!" She was crying as she practically collapsed against me, hugging me tight, shaking like I was the one holding her together instead of the other way around. "Why didn’t you tell me? Ash wouldn’t say anything... I thought... oh God, I thought I lost you... "
Her perfume made my stomach turn, but I forced my lips into a soft curve, the lie ready on my tongue. "I’m fine," I whispered, voice paper-thin. My arms barely moved around her, the weakness in my limbs betraying me.
"No, you’re not," she insisted, pulling back to search my face, eyes wet and frantic. "Don’t say that, Aria. Don’t you dare... "
Behind her, Sylas lingered. His tall frame filled the doorway at first, then he moved slowly into the room, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to be there. His expression was tight, worried, but he didn’t push past Sarah. He only sat on the edge of my bed, his weight sinking the mattress slightly toward him.
His voice was quiet, restrained. "How are you holding up?"
I turned my head toward him, forcing my lips to move again, though every word tasted like ash. "I’m... fine."
The lie again. And again. Maybe if I repeated it enough, it would become true.
Sylas looked like he wanted to say more. His jaw flexed, his hands fidgeted, but nothing else came out. He stayed there, silent, burning with words he couldn’t... or wouldn’t... speak.
The room settled into a suffocating quiet. Sarah’s fussing hands smoothing my blanket, Sylas staring down at his lap, Ash pretending to scroll her tablet in the corner but watching me from the corner of her eye.
Then, faintly... noise. A commotion, muffled at first, but building closer. Raised voices, heavy footsteps. My chest tightened instinctively.
The door slammed against the wall, rattling the frame.
And I heard his voice.