Chapter 3
Noelle’s POV
The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic was the first thing that hit me when I came to. I groaned softly, blinking against the glaring white of the hospital ceiling.
Pain flared as I sat up–my ribs throbbed, a cruel reminder of the cane that had cracked
them.
The door creaked open, and a familiar nurse walked in, offering a worn–out smile.
“Well, Noelle, back again? You’re starting to make this place your second home,” she teased gently.
“What happened?” I winced, trying to smile.
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“A cleaner brought you in,” she explained. “Found you unconscious on the floor of your house.”
I bit down a bitter laugh. Of course. They hadn’t even bothered to get me help. themselves. Left me for the hired help to discover.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Noelle?” the nurse asked softly.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You came in with three fractured ribs, and not long ago it was stab wounds. Are you… safe at home?”
I gave a sad chuckle. “Just a clumsy accident. Nothing I can’t handle.”
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She exhaled heavily. “Well, be careful. One more “accident‘ could be fatal–for you and your baby.”
Her words stabbed deeper than the pain in my ribs. I pressed my palm to my stomach, eyes brimming.
Three weeks ago, they told me I was pregnant.
The memory came rushing back–rain pouring down that night, Christopher stumbling in drunk, mistaking me for Jocelyn.
And I let him. Just to feel wanted for once. Just to pretend.
The next morning, he’d looked at me like I disgusted him–accused me of seducing
him.
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“You’re lucky,” the doctor had said. “Three months pregnant and the baby survived.”
But that was before the videos Jocelyn sent. Before I saw that wedding photo. Before she told me the truth about James.
How could I raise a child that shared blood with the man who stole my brother’s heart- literally?
“Noelle?” the nurse’s voice pulled me back.
“I want to terminate the pregnancy,” I said. My voice was steady. “I can’t keep it.”
Her eyes widened. “You want an abortion? Noelle… you’re four months in.”
I nodded. “I’ve made up my mind. Please bring me the paperwork.”
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“What about the father? Your husband?” she asked hesitantly.
“There is no husband,” I said. “And the father is dead.”
She gave me a long look, then nodded. “I’ll prepare the forms.”
When she returned, I signed without hesitation.
“Are you sure, Noelle?” she asked once more.
“Absolutely. Now… can I go?”
She gave me a nod. “You’re discharged. Come back tomorrow for the procedure.”
I picked up my phone. Missed calls. The same number. A text followed:
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“Noelle, I’m worried. Why haven’t you
answered?”
“Your flight is booked.”
“No response. I’m flying over. I’ll come get you myself.”
My lips curved slightly as I sent back a reply.
No calls from Christopher. No messages from my father. Not even Jocelyn.
As I stepped into the corridor, I paused.
Jocelyn’s voice drifted from a nearby room.
“He’s just the sweetest,” she cooed.
Peeking in, I saw her and Christopher with a doctor. Jocelyn was glowing.
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“I’m so glad you have such a supportive husband for your pregnancy, the doctor said warmly.
Christopher leaned down and kissed her cheek. “She completes me,” he said.
My stomach churned. I barely made it to the restroom before vomiting.
Twelve years of loving that man–thrown away like trash.
The door creaked open. Jocelyn’s mocking voice followed.
“Enjoy the show? I knew you were lurking.”
“Get out, Jocelyn,” I growled.
“Still alive? After we left you bleeding on the
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floor? You’re like a cockroach–just won’t die,” she hissed.
“I’ll be gone soon enough. Just leave me alone.”
Her laugh was venomous. “Did you know I told the maids to dump James’s ashes in the trash?”
I snapped.
I lunged, grabbing her hair, dragging her back. “You twisted witch! You took his life and now won’t even let him rest?”
She screamed. “Help! She’s attacking me!”
The door slammed open. Christopher stormed in, his face livid.
“What the hell are you doing to her?” he
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roared.
“She made you kill my brother–she desecrated his ashes!”
His hand struck me before I could finish.
The impact blurred my vision.
“James’s life means nothing compared to Jocelyn’s,” he spat.
I stood there, stunned, as he cradled her protectively.
Fueled by rage, I hurled myself toward them.
Christopher’s fist came fast.
This time, I fell.
The sink’s sharp edge dug into my abdomen
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as I hit the floor, pain slicing through me.
Blood soaked my jeans, warm and fast.
I gasped for air, panic rising.
“Christopher…” I wheezed. “Please…”
He sneered. “You could die for all I care.”
Jocelyn turned as they walked away.
Her lips curled into a smile.
She mouthed one word:
Die.
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