Chapter 7- Collapse

Angela's POV

The lights in the emergency room feel harsh, almost too bright, and I press a cold cloth against the cut on my forehead, watching the sterile room around me in silence. 

The pain from the wound throbs dully, but it’s nothing compared to the ache spreading through my chest. 

Every breath feels heavy, and the memories of the past few days play on a loop in my mind: the shouting, the accusations, the feeling of being utterly alone. 

I wonder how I ended up here, back under the harsh glare of hospital lights, entangled with a man who should have let me go.

Lyle stands a few feet away, arms crossed, his face unreadable. I’d thought our chapter was over, that I’d finally made my exit, but here we are, forced into the same space again.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Take a pregnancy test.”

I blink, caught off guard. “What?” My voice sounds weak, worn out from everything.

“You heard me.” His voice is flat, unyielding. “If you’re really pregnant, I want to be sure it's true.”

The words sting, but I nod. Fine. Let him have his answer, let him see for himself. Maybe then he’ll finally let me go.

I feel a hollow ache in my chest, a sense of resignation settling in. How many times have I tried to convince myself that he’d change, that he’d see me as more than just another piece in his carefully crafted life? 

Each time, I’m met with the same harsh reality. 

I’m tired. So tired of hoping for something that will never come.

We walk to the obstetrics department together, the silence between us thick and suffocating. Every step feels heavier than the last, and I can feel my pulse thudding in my ears. 

When we reach the desk, I ask the nurse, “can I please have a pregnancy test?”

She smiles, “of course.”

The tension between Lyle and I is a taut wire, ready to snap at any moment, and I feel like I’m walking on a knife’s edge.

The nurse hands me the test, and I step into the small restroom, my hands trembling as I go through the motions. 

For a long moment after, I stand in front of the sink, looking at my pallid reflection in the mirror. My hands shake as I wash them.

Lyle knocks. “Angela? Hurry up.”

I swallow back the urge to be sick. “I’m just coming.”

Grabbing the test, I will myself to move. My legs feel like lead, and I can’t force myself to budge.

Finally, I manage to look.

When I emerge, I meet Lyle’s gaze, holding up the test in silence.

It’s negative.

Surprisingly, he seems… lost. For just a moment, a flicker of something unguarded crosses his face, something almost resembling disappointment. It’s there and gone so quickly that I wonder if I imagined it. 

Did he actually want this? Did he hope for something different? The thought unsettles me, but before I can process it, the doctor  appears.

“Ah Miss Lang, your partner here asked to speak with me. There are a few things I would like to go over.”

I stare at him wide wide eyes. “Is there something wrong?”.

“No, Ms. Lang, I’d just like to go over a few things,” he says, glancing between us. “I’m afraid that after your miscarriage, I wouldn’t expect you to get pregnant again so soon. It’s possible of course, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Time stops. My chest tightens painfully as the weight of his words settles over me. Lyle’s head snaps toward me, his eyes widening in shock.

“Is this true?” he demands, his tone a mix of disbelief and something else. Anger, maybe. Accusation.

I nod, my heart heavy. “Yes. I… I lost the baby.”

The words hang in the air, cutting through me, leaving me raw and bleeding. I stare at him, my mind reeling.

A flicker of horror crosses his face, then his eyes narrow, filled with something colder, darker. “You killed my child.”

The accusation hangs in the air, sharp and cruel. I can barely believe what I’m hearing. Misunderstanding after misunderstanding, that’s all it’s ever been with Lyle. 

Or maybe that’s not it at all. Maybe this isn’t a misunderstanding. Maybe he just never trusted me. The thought hits harder than anything else, more brutal than the accusation itself.

My instinct is to defend myself, to explain. I stop, feeling the weight of it all sink in. We’re already broken up. 

Even if he somehow understood the truth now, what would it change? I don’t want his sympathy, and I certainly don’t want to expose my pain just to win him over. 

Weakly, I say, “funny. When I told you the first time, you didn’t believe I’d ever been pregnant at all.”

The doctor clears his throat. “I’ll leave you two to discuss this in private.”

He strides off, and I feel myself go numb. Now, alone with Lyle, who knows what he’ll say.

Lyle’s expression darkens as she snaps, “you did this on purpose; to spite me.”

My voice shakes, but I keep my tone firm, resolute. “Whatever happened, Lyle, it doesn’t matter. We’re done. This has nothing to do with you anymore.”

“This has everything to do with me.”

He stands there, motionless, his fists clenched tightly, the tension radiating off him in waves. His eyes shift, a mixture of fury and disbelief clouding his gaze. I half-expect him to turn and leave, to walk away as he’s done so many times before.

Instead, he takes a step toward me, his face inches from mine. His voice is low, threatening, barely above a whisper, but every word lands like a blow.

I take a step back on instinct, stomach turning. The dark look in his eyes, his twisted expression; it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.

He leans in, his face so close that I can see the shadows under his eyes, feel the heat radiating from him. 

“You don’t understand,” he says, his voice chillingly calm. “You think you can walk away from everything we built, from everything I gave you. It doesn’t work that way. You owe me, Angela. You owe me everything.”

“Lyle, I…”

“You think you can escape me by aborting my child and breaking up?” His gaze darkens, his jaw set with a frightening determination. “Angela, I won’t let you go.”