Save Her Lose Us (Evangeline and Soren) novel Chapter 2

"Damn shame. The mom pulled through, but the baby didn't make it. She didn't get to the hospital in time."

"Where's her family?"

"No one was here. The mother signed the consent forms herself."

The words drifted into Evangeline's consciousness as she slowly surfaced from anesthesia, the terror of nearly dying still clinging to her. She heard the doctor and nurse talking just beside her bed.

Almost involuntarily, she laid a trembling hand on her stomach.

Just as the doctor had said, the baby was gone.

Where her belly had once begun to swell, there was only emptiness now.

She would never again feel that tiny life fluttering under her palm.

She knew she should be sobbing, hysterical, shattered. But for some reason, not a single tear would come.

Maybe she'd simply run out of tears a long time ago.

When the doctor saw she was awake, he asked about her pain, then offered a few gentle words before leaving, assuring her that she'd get another chance, that there would be other children someday.

Evangeline only nodded.

She didn't bother to explain that there wouldn't be another child. This one had never truly been hers to begin with—just like her marriage was never really hers, only borrowed, stolen for a time.

She had once gotten her wish: marrying Soren Fawkes, the golden boy of Serenity City's most prominent family. But Soren had always looked at her like she was some calculating usurper, his disdain obvious from the start. On their wedding night, he'd gone out of his way to humiliate her, making a show of leaving for a club so everyone would know exactly what he thought of her.

She'd become the laughingstock of Serenity City.

After five years together, he'd mellowed—at least a little. Sometimes, when the gossip and mockery got especially cruel, Soren would take pity and step in to defend her.

People say even strangers develop some affection after seeing each other day after day. Maybe that's why, after pretending to be husband and wife for so long, there seemed to be a sliver of kindness between them.

But Soren had made himself clear to her from the very beginning.

He would only ever desire her—not love her. And he would never allow her to have his child.

Every time, they were meticulous—never letting down their guard. On the rare occasions things got out of hand, he'd make sure she took the morning-after pill.

She needed the bathroom, but everyone in the corridor seemed rushed and preoccupied. No one offered to help, so she dragged her IV stand step by step toward the restroom.

At least the hospital gowns didn't have buttons, she thought with a bitter smile.

Something that should have taken minutes stretched into half an hour, her body slow and clumsy after surgery.

As she left the bathroom and started back, a woman's voice drifted from the nearby office.

She froze mid-step, recognizing the gentle, sweet tone.

"Soren, it's just a sprain. I told you, it's nothing. You're fussing over me for no reason," the woman said, her voice full of warmth and playful reproach.

There was no trace of blame, just a soft, affectionate lilt that made her sound impossibly pure and innocent. Even Evangeline, standing there as another woman, felt the urge to protect her.

This time, Evangeline saw her clearly—the girl Soren could never let go of. Poppy.

Evangeline never knew whether Soren truly hadn't seen her in the hallway just now, or whether he'd seen her and simply didn't care—just left her to fend for herself, as always.