Chapter 65 Chapter 22.2
The sunlight was already spilling through the windows when Heaven finally stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, as if her mind was only half-awake, still drifting somewhere far from where she lay. She blinked, trying to understand her surroundings. Nothing felt familiar. Her brows furrowed as she scanned the room, struggling to remember even a single fragment of what happened the day before. But her mind was blank.
She tried to sit up, only to gasp when a sharp pain shot through her lower abdomen.
“How are you feeling?” Heaven whipped her head toward the voice. Desmond was sitting at her bedside, worry etched across his tired face. Heaven, still disoriented, felt as if her memories were slipping through her fingers.
“What happened? Where are we?” she asked. The panic in her voice made Desmond's heart squeeze. Her confusion wasn’t normal, she truly remembered nothing. He reached for the telephone and called her doctor immediately.
“Are we in a hospital? Why are we here?” she pressed. Desmond pulled her into a gentle embrace, trying to steady himself. Tears burned behind his eyes again, but he forced them back.
When the door opened, he stepped aside to let the doctors examine her.
“You don’t remember anything from yesterday?” the doctor asked. Heaven shook her head.
“What’s wrong with her, Doc? Why can’t she remember?” Desmond asked anxiously.
“She’s still in shock,” the doctor explained. “Her memory will return later or in the coming days. We won’t force it. Especially after the surgery.”
“Surgery?” Heaven echoed in confusion. Her brows knit tighter. “Was I sick?”
“You need to rest for now, Mrs. Velasquez,” her doctor replied gently.
Heaven instinctively touched her abdomen. Something felt…missing. She didn’t know what, but the emptiness made her chest tighten. She turned to Desmond.
“Why are you crying?” she asked softly. Desmond tried to smile, shaking his head.
“Just focus on getting better. Don’t force yourself to remember right now, okay? Let it come naturally.”
Heaven remained silent. She could feel it, Desmond and the doctors were keeping something from her. She wanted to remember. She wanted answers. But her mind was nothing but fog.
Later, she ate quietly while Desmond fed her, her hands restricted by the tubes attached to them.
“I feel like something’s missing,” she confessed. “Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?” She looked at him, searching his face.
“I don’t want to hide anything,” Desmond said. “I just don’t want to force you. Your doctor said it’s better if the memory comes back to you on its own. I want to know the truth, too. You’re the only one who can tell us what really happened. The CCTV didn’t capture anything. Only you know what happened, Heaven.”
Heaven sighed heavily and touched her stomach again. Why couldn’t she remember? Did she hit her head? She felt around for any wound but there was none.
Soon, she recovered enough to be cleared for discharge. When she tried to stand, Desmond held her securely. Pain clenched at her abdomen, and she winced. Something had definitely been taken from inside her. She just didn’t know what.
“Doc, what exactly is happening to Heaven?” Shiermy asked, bewildered and increasingly worried. “She remembers all of us, but not the fact that she was pregnant.”
“In cases like this,” the doctor explained, “patients sometimes force themselves to forget experiences too painful to accept. Her memory will return, but we don’t know when. She may be convincing herself that nothing happened… including the loss of her child. It’s not unusual. We’ve seen cases like this before. The memories always find their way back.”
“Isn’t that dangerous for her?” Shiermy asked worriedly.
“It depends on how much pain she can handle. Once it comes back, she’ll feel everything at once. That’s why she shouldn’t be left alone. We don’t know what she might do when the memories return.”
Days passed. Heaven returned home, but she still moved slowly, every step strained by the pain of the incision. She often sat in silence, staring into nothing, frustration building inside her. No one would tell her anything. Not Desmond. Not her mother-in-law. Not the doctors.
“Do you want anything to eat? I’ll cook for you,” Desmond asked softly.
Heaven only glared at him. Desmond looked away, unable to meet her eyes. He couldn't afford to break down. Not when Heaven needed him strong.
“Caldereta?” he tried again, remembering it was her favorite after visiting her family.
“Fine,” she replied faintly.
Relieved, Desmond kissed her forehead and headed toward the kitchen.
Heaven looked around their home, the sharp ache in her lower abdomen pulsing with every movement. Slowly, she stood and made her way to the stairs. She didn’t want to bother Desmond, but she needed to go to their room.
Climbing the stairs felt like torture. When she reached the top, she reached for their bedroom door then paused.
Another door across the hallway pulled her attention. Something about it called to her.
Heaven closed their bedroom door and, drawn by an unseen force, walked to the other one. She opened it.
Her breath caught.
A nursery.
She stepped inside, staring at the soft-colored walls, the toys neatly arranged, the crib set up with care. She opened the closets, rows of newborn clothes filled them.
A sharp pain stabbed through her head. She clutched it with trembling fingers.
And finally, her instincts whispered the truth.
“Did they take… a baby from me?” she whispered.
She reached for one of the tiny shirts. Embroidered on the front was a name.
“Daryl…” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Her knees weakened, and she sank onto the floor. Her vision blurred with tears.
“Did I… give birth?” she asked the empty room. “Did they take a child from my womb? If I gave birth… where’s my baby?”
Her voice cracked as the questions collapsed into sobs. The ache in her chest deepened, as if her heart recognized what her mind still refused to fully remember.
Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. The memories began to flicker back, doctor’s visits, monthly checkups, the sound of a heartbeat she once heard through a monitor.
Heaven broke completely, curling around the tiny shirt as she cried, grief escaping before the full truth even formed.