Chapter 19 Go through

Chapter 19 Go through
Chapter 19 — Her POV

That night felt heavier than the others.

The air in my room was thick, like it was pressing down on my chest. My back ached. My legs felt swollen and tired. My stomach tightened again and again, not sharp pain, but a deep, constant pressure that made it hard to breathe.

I tried to lie on my side.

It didn’t help.

I tried sitting up.

It got worse.

I pressed my hand to my stomach and whispered softly, “Please… calm down. Please.”

No answer.

No comfort.

No footsteps outside my door.

I had gotten used to that part.

Lucien didn’t come anymore. No questions. No messages. No checking. It was like I existed only inside these four walls, hidden away like something inconvenient.

Another wave of pain rolled through me. Stronger this time.

I gasped.

My vision blurred.

The room started to spin slowly, like the world was drifting away from me. I reached for the edge of the bed, trying to stand, but my legs refused to obey me.

“S-someone…” I whispered, though I knew no one could hear me.

The pain pressed harder. My head felt light. My ears rang.

Then everything went dark.

I don’t know how long I was gone.

When I slowly opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling. The second thing I felt was fear.

My body felt weak. Too weak.

“Susan… Madam… please wake up.”

The voice was shaking.

I turned my head slightly and saw her—the maid who had always been kind to me. Her eyes were red. Her hands trembled as she held mine.

“You scared me,” she whispered. “You collapsed. I tried calling you earlier, but you didn’t answer.”

I tried to speak, but my throat felt dry.

“Don’t talk,” she said quickly. “Please. Just rest.”

I noticed other faces in the room. More maids. All worried. All whispering.

And then I noticed the doctor.

The family doctor.

He stood near the bed, his face serious, his eyes filled with concern. He checked my pulse again, then looked at the maid.

“She has been under too much stress,” he said firmly. “This is not good. Not for her. Not for the baby.”

My heart skipped.

The baby.

I tried to lift my head. “Is… is my baby—”

“Please,” he said gently. “Save your strength.”

He straightened and sighed deeply.

“The baby is at risk if this continues.”

The words hit me harder than any slap ever had.

At risk.

The head maid stepped forward nervously. “Doctor… should we… should we inform Mr. Blackwood?”

The doctor’s jaw tightened.

“You should have informed him a long time ago,” he said. Then, after a pause, “I will call him myself.”

My heart sank.

I turned my face away, staring at the wall.

I didn’t want to see Lucien.

I didn’t want his cold eyes.

I didn’t want his silence.

But part of me—small and stupid—still wondered if he would care.

He arrived later that night.

I knew before I saw him.

The room changed.

The air felt sharper. Heavier. Like control had walked back in.

I didn’t turn my head.

I heard his footsteps. Slow. Firm.

Then the doctor spoke.

“Lucien.”

His voice wasn’t polite.

It wasn’t calm.

It was disappointed.

“I am very disappointed in you,” the doctor said bluntly. “Truly.”

There was a pause.

Lucien didn’t speak.

“Your wife is pregnant,” the doctor continued, his voice rising. “Yet she is not even registered in a hospital. No proper checkups. No monitoring. Look at her condition.”

Silence.

“While you go out with another woman,” the doctor added sharply. “While she stays hidden here, breaking under stress.”

My chest tightened.

“If you don’t want Susan,” the doctor said, his voice firm now, “then let her go. You can’t keep her like this. You can’t hide her away and pretend responsibility doesn’t exist.”

I felt tears burn behind my eyes.

Not because of the pain.

Because someone finally said it out loud.

Lucien still didn’t answer immediately.

I could feel his gaze on me. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

Then he spoke.

Quietly.

“How’s the baby?”

That was all.

Not How is she?

Not What happened?

Just the baby.

Something inside me cracked.

I slowly pushed myself up, ignoring the dizziness, ignoring the maid’s soft protest.

I swung my legs off the bed.

“Susan, please,” the maid whispered. “You shouldn’t move.”

I stood anyway.

I turned my head just enough to look at Lucien once.

My eyes met his.

I didn’t see worry.

I didn’t see regret.

I saw control trying to hold itself together.

I looked away.

I didn’t answer him.

I didn’t look back at the doctor.

I didn’t explain.

I walked past Lucien, my steps slow but steady, my body weak but my heart burning.

Each step hurt.

But staying hurt more.

Behind me, I heard the doctor say his name again.

“Lucien—”

I didn’t wait to hear what came next.

I left the room.

Not crying.

Not screaming.

Just walking.

Because for the first time, I understood something clearly.

If I stayed silent, I would disappear.

And I was done disappearing.