CHAPTER 6
Months had passed since that fateful day in Chloe’s kitchen, but Racheal’s life had changed only slightly. Victor never came back.
He listened to her pleas, nodded politely, but his heart had long moved on, and his eyes no longer held any trace of the love they once shared.
Chloe had been right all along, but Racheal’s stubborn heart couldn’t accept it until now.
She rubbed her swollen belly absentmindedly, feeling the baby shift inside her. “It’s just you and me now, little one,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise around her.
She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself a brief escape into her thoughts. “Maybe one day, he’ll see what he’s missing. Maybe he’ll realize we’re worth fighting for.” But even as she thought it, a part of her knew the truth—Victor had made his choice, and she was foolish to think otherwise.
The past months had been a blur of emotions, doctor visits, and sleepless nights. Dr. Harper’s words about stress lingered in her mind like an unshakable shadow, reminding her that she was walking a tightrope between hope and despair.
Chloe’s voice echoed in her ears, that sharp, biting tone of reality that she hated but knew was true.
Chloe had been right all along—Victor wasn’t coming back. But Racheal couldn’t help but hold on to that tiny flicker of hope, even if it was tearing her apart.
Racheal tried to bury herself in work, spending long hours at the small restaurant she managed. The steady rhythm of serving customers, washing dishes, and mopping floors was her only solace. But even that couldn’t mask the loneliness that gnawed at her.
As she stood at the sink, scrubbing dishes while the hum of the restaurant buzzed behind her, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen.
It started as a dull ache, but then it intensified, and Racheal’s grip on the cup she was washing slipped. The glass shattered against the ceramic sink, the loud crash echoing in the narrow kitchen.
Racheal’s breath hitched as the pain doubled, wrapping around her spine like a vice. She stumbled back, clutching the counter for support. Her vision blurred, and a piercing scream tore from her lips, cutting through the clamor of the busy restaurant.
“Ahhhh!” The sound of her agony filled the room, startling the kitchen staff who were hustling around her. She bent over, her back arching as another wave of contractions hit. Panic surged through her veins, each contraction tearing at her resolve.
“Racheal!” one of her co-workers, Carla, rushed over, her face stricken with fear. “Oh my God, you’re in labor! Somebody call an ambulance!”
Racheal could barely comprehend Carla’s words as she gasped for breath, tears streaming down her face.
The reality of her situation crashed down on her. She was alone—Victor was nowhere in sight, and she was about to give birth without him by her side. Her worst fears were unfolding before her eyes.
“Chloe!” Racheal managed to choke out, her hand gripping Carla’s arm. “Call Chloe… please…”
Carla nodded frantically, fumbling for her phone while another staff member tried to comfort Racheal. “Hang in there, Racheal, the ambulance is on its way!”
But Racheal’s thoughts were elsewhere. As the pain ripped through her body, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of her choices.
Every decision, every desperate attempt to reach out to Victor, now felt like a futile gesture, an empty scream into the void. She had tried so hard to hold onto a man who had already let go of her, and now she was paying the price.
The contractions come faster, more intense, as Racheal’s cries echoed through the restaurant.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she squeezed Carla’s hand as though it were her lifeline. The paramedics burst through the door, and Chloe arrived moments later, her face pale and eyes wide with fear.
“Oh God, Racheal!” Chloe rushed to her side, kneeling next to her. “I’m here, I’m here. You’re going to be okay.”
Racheal’s eyes locked onto Chloe’s, filled with a mix of pain, fear, and a flicker of relief. “I’m scared, Chloe… I’m so scared…”
Chloe squeezed her hand tighter, tears brimming in her own eyes. “I know, but you’re strong, Racheal. You’re going to get through this, I promise.”
As the paramedics prepared Racheal for transport, Chloe stayed by her side, whispering words of comfort. She knew that Racheal’s journey was far from over, but at that moment, all that mattered was getting her friend through the pain, one breath at a time.
With every contraction, Racheal’s resolve hardened. She had fought for love, lost it, and now she was fighting for something far more precious—the life of her unborn child. And for that, she would endure anything.
As the ambulance doors closed and the sirens wailed, Racheal clung to Chloe’s presence, holding onto the one person who had never left her side.
No matter how many times she had fallen, Chloe had been there to pick her up. And now, more than ever, Racheal needed that unwavering support as she faced the hardest moment of her life.
The paramedics rushed Racheal into the hospital, the urgency clear in their hurried steps. She was placed onto a stretcher, her vision blurred by pain and exhaustion as they wheeled her down the hall.
The fluorescent lights above flickered past her, each one a reminder of how real this moment was.
“Move! She’s in labor!” one of the paramedics shouted, pushing past the bustling crowd. Racheal’s breaths came in short, frantic bursts.
The pain was unbearable, sharp and relentless, tearing through her with every contraction. She clung to the side rails of the stretcher, trying to keep her mind focused as panic threatened to overwhelm her.
But just as they neared the emergency room, Racheal’s eyes caught sight of a familiar figure up ahead.
Her sister stood there, pacing anxiously, but it was the woman on the other stretcher that made Racheal’s heart stop—Evelyn.
She was writhing in pain, tears streaming down her face, and from the anguished cries that filled the hallway, it was clear she was in labor too.
Racheal’s heart sank as she realized what this meant. Evelyn wasn’t just in labor; she was in premature labor. Racheal’s mind spun, calculating the timeline—Evelyn had gotten pregnant after her, so why was she here now, ahead of time? The thought was like a punch to the gut.
Despite everything, despite the bitterness and betrayal, Racheal couldn’t deny the bit of fear she felt for Evelyn and her unborn child.
“There is just one emergency room,” a nurse announced, her voice tinged with urgency as she tried to keep control of the situation. “What shall we do? Every room is occupied, and we have two women in labor.” The nurse looked frazzled, eyes darting between Racheal and Evelyn, trying to make an impossible decision.
Racheal’s chest tightened as she gripped the stretcher, feeling a mix of dread and helplessness. She glanced over at Evelyn, who was clutching her belly, her face contorted in pain.
In that moment, the rivalry and resentment faded into the background, replaced by the harsh reality of the situation—two women, both desperate, both fighting for the lives of their children.
Victor’s voice suddenly cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. “Doctor, please take my wife and save my baby!” he shouted, his voice trembling with desperation as he pointed toward Evelyn.
His eyes were wide, wild with fear, and Racheal could see his panic seeping through every word. “I’ll pay you anything! Just save her!”
Racheal’s heart twisted painfully at his words. She watched Victor, her Victor, pleading for Evelyn’s life as if nothing else mattered.
He didn’t even look her way, didn’t even acknowledge her presence. It was as if she were invisible, as if her own cries of pain didn’t matter at all. A cold, bitter realization washed over her: Victor had made his choice, and it wasn’t her.
The nurse hesitated, looking conflicted. “But—” she started, her gaze flickering to Racheal, who was clutching her belly in agony. Racheal could see the doubt in her eyes, the struggle to balance duty and humanity. But Victor’s frantic plea and the promise of money hung in the air, tipping the scales in Evelyn’s favor.
“Please!” Victor yelled again, his voice cracking. “Do something!”
Without another word, the doctors and nurses moved, directing all their attention to Evelyn.
They quickly wheeled her into the emergency room, leaving Racheal stranded in the hallway, clutching her stomach as another wave of pain tore through her.
She watched as the doors closed behind them, shutting her out of the one place that could bring her relief