Chapter 153
Anna’s POV:
„Noi no, it wasn’t me… she… she fell on her own!” Claire frantically shook her head, her hands waving in front of her
chest in panic.
“How could I possibly hurt my baby?” I cried out.
The press conference had descended into chaos. Journalists continued filming, capturing every moment of our confrontation. Claire trembled, her eyes darting between Blake and me.
Blake cupped my face and kissed my forehead. “Anna, let’s go to the hospital first. We can deal with everything else later.”
“No!”
I pulled away. “I want this settled now!”
Years of bottled–up pain came pouring out as I faced Claire.
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“Claire Wright, you’ve deliberately tried to hurt me before, framing me for things I never did. Now that I had a child, I was willing to put the past behind us for Blake’s sake, but you couldn’t even spare my baby. Why? I’ve been married to your
brother for four years. let you live in our home. I treated you be my own sister. Why do you hate me so
Claire turned to Blake, eyes pleading, “Blakey, it wasn’t me. It really wasn’t me.”
Blake remained silent, his jaw clenched tight.
I grabbed his arm. “Blake Wright, are you still going to take her side in this?”
agony. “Let’s go to the hospital first!”
His face twisted in agony.
That was it. I felt something break inside me as Blake lifted me into his arms. Despite everything–despite my despite the truth finally coming out–he still couldn’t choose me over her.
Even then, he couldn’t stand up to her. Even after she had pushed me down the s
couldn’t bring himself to condemn her.
baby.
stairs and cos…e our child, he still
What was the point? Claire only cared about her brother–he was the only one who could make her feel anything. But Blake had chosen to protect his sister, leaving me to bear all the suffering alone.
I struggled against his grip. “Put me down. I’m not going to the hospital.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Blake’s voice rose in anger. “Are you trying to kill yourself
“Yes!” I screamed back. “Let me die! Let me leave this world with my child!”
Something changed in Blake’s expression–shock, fear, something I couldn’t place. He held me tighter and whispered, “Go to the hospital first, and I promise I’ll give you the answer you want.”
I looked into his eyes and saw something there–thousands of unspoken words. For the first time in a long while, I believed him. I nodded weakly.
As Blake carried me out, my mind began to drift. My vision blurred, filled with patches of red. I was conscious yet
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Chapter 153.
delirious.
“Why did I treat this like some kind of performance?” The thought floated through my hazy mind. The pain is real. The loss of my baby is real. The heartbreak is real.”
“I’d seen this coming, hadn’t 17 From the very beginning.
Then darkness took me,
The doctors said I needed at least a week of rest after the miscarriage. Meanwhile, the negative reports about Claire couldn’t be suppressed. She had become the focus of public outage.
William had barely had time to celebrate the news of my pregnancy before learning that I’d lost the baby–and that the
whole incident was all over the media.
The shock sent him to the emergency room with a heart attack His stance was clear: Claire had crossed his final line. She couldn’t stay.
Caroline kept a vigil outside William’s room for a day and a night, begging for forgiveness. Then she came to my hospital room, waiting outside for another day and night, asking for mercy.
Blake sat by my bedside, his eyes full of conflict. Caroline’s crying made it impossible for me to rest.
Then Claire burst into my room, sobbing. Blood streamed from her slashed wrists, pooling on the floor.
“Anna, I’ll pay for your child’s life with my own!” she screamed. She looked at Blake, whispered “Blakey,” and collapsed in his arms. He rushed her to emergency.
When Blake returned, he gave me his promised answer. He would send Claire to study with a top ballet company in Europe, but he also agreed to my condition: divorce.
A week later, against medical advice, I insisted we go to the Massachusetts family court. As we sat there, I remembered our wedding at the registry office years ago.
Back then, I’d gazed at Blake with such foolish happiness, believing that having him meant
would never divorce him.
ig the world. I had sworn
Now, outside the courthouse, a newlywed couple was taking photos while we walked toward the end of our marriage. Less than five years together.
“Do you confirm this is your mutual decision, without coercion? the judge asked.
I looked up at Blake. He sat perfectly straight, his posture rigid and unwavering.
He was still the same Blake from years ago, but our relationship could never return to what it once was.
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