Chapter 87 *
Scarlett’s POV
I woke up slowly. Everything hurt. My shoulder throbbed. My head felt like someone had used it as a punching bag.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
I turned my head slightly. Saw Damon sitting there.
He was in the chair next to my hospital bed. Leaning forward. Elbows on his knees. Hands clasped together.
His jaw was tight. His eyes were fixed on something on the floor.
The whole room felt like it was holding its breath.
My chest tightened.
He knows. He definitely knows about the baby.
Or the lack of a baby.
He probably thinks I lied to trap him into marriage. That I made up the pregnancy to get him to marry me.
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry.
"Damon?"
His head lifted. Those dark eyes locked onto mine.
I waited for the explosion. The anger. The accusations.
Nothing came.
Instead, he reached out. His hand was gentle as he brushed the hair back from my forehead.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was low. Controlled. Like he was holding something back.
I blinked. That wasn't what I expected.
"I'm... okay." I looked away. Focused on the white hospital sheets. "Just some bruises. Nothing serious."
"Good." He pulled his hand back. "That's good."
The silence stretched out. Heavy. Uncomfortable.
He wasn't yelling. Wasn't demanding answers.
That somehow made it worse.
"You should rest," he said finally. "Don't worry about anything else right now. Just focus on recovering."
His voice was so gentle. So careful.
Like he was afraid I might break.
I can't do this. I can't let him think I trapped him.
I took a breath. Forced myself to look at him.
"Damon. I need to tell you something."
He waited. His expression didn't change.
"The baby..." My voice came out barely above a whisper. "The baby's gone."
The room went completely silent.
I watched his face. Saw something flash in his eyes. He took a deep breath. Let it out slowly.
Then he did something that made my chest hurt even more.
He tried to smile. It didn't reach his eyes.
"It's okay." His voice was rough. "We'll have other kids. We have time."
He stood up. Walked over to the window. Stared out at nothing.
"Are you hungry? I can have Maria bring something. Or we can order from that Italian place you liked."
Oh God. He thinks I miscarried.
He's trying to comfort me. To make me feel better about losing the baby.
The guilt hit me like a physical weight.
I couldn't let him think that. Couldn't let him believe in a loss that never happened.
"Damon." I sat up slightly. Winced as my shoulder protested. "I need to tell you the truth."
"Don't push yourself. You need to rest." Concern crossed his face.
"I was never pregnant."
The words hung in the air between us.
Damon went completely still. His eyes widened.
I kept going. Had to get it all out.
"When they brought me into the emergency room, I kept insisting I needed to save the baby. Refused other tests. But when the doctor finally examined me..."
I looked down at my hands.
"There was no embryo. Nothing in my uterus. The bleeding was just my period. Heavy because of the abdominal trauma."
I remembered the moment the doctor told me. The shock. The disbelief.
I'd insisted on more tests. Ultrasound. Blood work. Everything.
All of them came back the same.
Not pregnant. Never was.
"I was so sure," I whispered. "The test was positive. I had symptoms..."
My chest felt tight. Not from sadness. From something more complicated.
Relief. Disappointment. Confusion. All mixed together.
Part of me had been terrified. Terrified of what the Cosmos-1 in my system might do to a baby.
But another part had started hoping. Started imagining.
And now that hope was gone.
"I don't understand how..." I trailed off.
Damon hadn't moved. Hadn't said anything.
He just stood there. Staring at me like he couldn't process what I'd said.
The door opened.
A woman in a white coat walked in. She had Scarlett's chart in her hands.
Thank God. Someone to break this horrible silence.
"Mrs. Wolfe." The doctor's voice was professional. Clinical. "I have your test results."
She glanced at Damon. Then back at me.
"The pregnancy test you took showed positive results. But the hormone levels were abnormally high. Much higher than a normal early pregnancy."
She flipped through the chart.
"Combined with the physical trauma and stress you experienced, your body likely underwent what we call pseudocyesis. False pregnancy. Your mind convinced your body you were pregnant, and your body responded accordingly."
The doctor's expression didn't change. Just kept reading from the chart.
"The symptoms you experienced were real. The nausea, the fatigue, even the missed period. But there was never an actual fetus."
She looked up at me.
"It's rare but not unheard of. Especially in cases of extreme stress or trauma."
I nodded slowly. Trying to process.
The doctor said a few more things. Medical terms I didn't really hear.
Then she left.
The silence came crashing back.
Damon and I sat there. Not looking at each other. Both staring at different walls.
Minutes passed. Felt like hours.
Then Damon stood up.
The movement was sudden. Sharp. His chair scraped against the floor with a harsh sound.
I flinched. Pressed myself back against the pillows.
My heart started racing.
Is he angry? Is he going to...
He took a step toward the door.
I held my breath.
"Rest." His voice came out flat. Empty. "I'll be back."
Then he was gone.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
I sat there. Alone. Staring at the closed door.
My hands were shaking.
What just happened?
Is he mad? Disappointed? Relieved?
I couldn't read him at all.