Chapter 2- Loss

Angela's POV

The doctor’s words keep replaying in my head, like a haunting echo. Miscarried. My heart clenches painfully every time I think about it, the weight of the loss crushing me. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. How could I have lost something I didn’t even know I had?

Jodelle stays by my side, her presence the only comfort in the sterile hospital room. She’s quiet, but I can see the pain in her eyes, reflecting my own. 

I want to speak, to ask how this happened, why this happened, but the words refuse to come. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the unbearable emptiness inside me.

“I’m so sorry, Ange,” Jodelle says softly, breaking the silence. Her voice is thick with emotion. “I can’t believe Lyle wasn’t here. That scumbag.”

Her words cut through my grief like a sharp knife. Lyle. He wasn’t here. He didn’t even know. The man who was supposed to care for me, who said he would always be there—he was with her instead.

“He’s a cheating scum,” Jodelle continues, her voice rising with anger. “You deserve so much better than this, Angela.”

I shake my head, trying to block out the fury in her voice. Lyle wasn’t cheating—not in the way she means. The ache in my chest is just as deep, just as raw. 

I haven’t told Jodelle much about what’s been happening between me and Lyle. I’ve always kept my relationship issues close to my chest, even from my best friend.

In this moment of grief, I need answers—desperate ones.

“Do you… know what’s been going on between Lyle and Fiona?” My voice is barely a whisper, the words catching in my throat.

Jodelle frowns, her expression softening with concern. “I don’t know much, Ange. I just know what I’ve seen. He’s been at the hospital, taking care of her.”

The words hit me like a blow to the stomach, leaving me breathless. Lyle was at the hospital while I was lying here, losing our baby. 

My heart shatters, torn to pieces by the knowledge that he was with another woman at the very moment I needed him most. He was guarding her, comforting her, while I was left alone in my darkest hour.

A bitter tear slips down my cheek, but I wipe it away quickly. I won’t let Jodelle see me break down. I’ve already lost too much. 

When I’m discharged from the hospital two days later, Lyle still hasn’t come back. He stays with her—his sister, as he calls her—for another two days, leaving me to fend for myself. The anger and grief inside me fester, twisting into something darker, something I can’t control.

On the third day, Lyle finally returns. He looks at me with an odd expression, like he knows something is wrong, but he can’t quite figure out what. His eyes sweep over me as I sit on the couch, still pale and weak from the miscarriage, but he says nothing about it. Instead, he pulls out his wallet.

“I’ll buy you a bag,” he says casually, like it’s the answer to all my pain. “Or something else. Whatever you want.”

I stare at him, my heart filling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. Does he really think he can fix this with money? That a bag or some expensive gift will somehow erase the pain, the betrayal? He knows nothing about me if he believes that.

“I don’t want anything,” I say, my voice quiet but firm. “I just want to spend my life with you.”

He frowns, confused. “We agreed from the start—no marriage. You said you were fine with that.”

“I was,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “That was before… everything.” Before I lost our child. Before he left me to deal with it alone. Before I realized how little he actually cared.

I wonder, for a fleeting moment, if things would have been different if the baby had survived. Would Lyle have cared more if he knew I was pregnant? Would he have stayed with me instead of rushing to her side? 

I push the thoughts away, knowing they’re pointless. Lyle doesn’t even know about the miscarriage. He doesn’t know, and worse—I don’t know if he would care.

“I don’t daydream about things like that,” he says with a smirk, confident in his ability to dismiss my pain. “I’ve always been careful. We were never having a baby, Angela. You’re imagining things.”

The calm certainty in his voice shreds the last thread of hope I had left. He has no idea. And even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. I’m not important enough.

I can’t help myself. “What is she to you, Lyle?” I ask, my voice trembling with all the anger and hurt that’s been building inside me. “What does she really mean to you?”

His expression hardens. “She’s my sister. You know that.”

“Then why does she always come first?” I snap, unable to hold back anymore. “Why are you always with her when I need you?”

He shakes his head, clearly irritated. “You’re being ridiculous, Angela. She’s my sister. What were you thinking?”

The words are like a slap, and I feel the sting deep inside. He’ll never see it. He’ll never understand. Even now, as I grieve the loss of our child, he can’t see past his loyalty to her. To him, nothing I say matters.

I realize then that there’s no fixing this. Even if the child had lived, even if I had told him about the pregnancy, it wouldn’t have changed anything. In his heart, I will always come second.

“I want to break up,” I say, my voice trembling, but the words are steady.

Lyle’s eyes flash with anger, like he doesn’t believe I have the nerve. “You’re just trying to manipulate me into marriage, aren’t you?”

I shake my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “No, Lyle. I’m done.”

His face twists into something ugly, something I’ve never seen before. “If we break up, everything I’ve given you is gone. The business opportunities, the connections—you’ll lose all of it.”

I freeze, staring at him in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“You set this up, didn’t you?” he says, his voice full of bitterness. “You arranged to meet me three years ago for your family’s benefit. Don’t act like you weren’t after my wealth.”

I feel like the ground has been pulled out from under me. My chest tightens, the betrayal sinking deeper than I ever thought possible. 

He never saw me. He never loved me. To him, I was just another transaction.

I always thought the business opportunities he gave my family were a sign of love. Now, I know I’m wrong.