Eve laid in her hospital bed, her body weak and aching. The sterile white walls of the room seemed to press in on her. She had to stay in the hospital for two days.
Nathan had left his work to be by her side. He stayed with her. His presence was constant, from the early morning when he would bring her breakfast, to the quiet walks he took her on in the hospital garden.
Her mother was also there.
Nathan sat beside her bed, carefully feeding her spoonfuls of soup, Eve couldn't tell whether he was genuine or putting up an act for her mother.
She turned her face away from him, staring at the window.
The bright sunshine outside seemed almost mocking in its warmth. How could the world go on as if nothing had happened, when her entire world had collapsed? Another miscarriage. Another child lost before they could even be born.
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "I've lost... everything. I just wanted to be a mother."
Her mother, sitting nearby, came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Oh, sweetheart," she said softly, stroking Eve's hair. "You've been through so much."
Yet how could Eve break? How could she let herself crumble under the weight of her grief when her mother and Nathan were watching her every move? She couldn't show them how truly shattered she was. The pieces of her heart were too many, too scattered. And yet, she couldn't help but let a few of her fears slip out.
"I don't know if I can keep doing this," Eve murmured, her eyes welling with tears. "Every time I hope, it's just taken away from me. I don't know how to go on."
Later that afternoon, they went for a walk around the hospital garden. The air was cool, a gentle breeze blowing through the trees.
Nathan held her arm as they walked, keeping her steady. But despite the calm surroundings, her mind was anything but peaceful.
They sat on a bench by a small fountain, the water trickling softly in the background. She stared down at the ground, her hands resting on her lap. Nathan sat beside her in silence for a moment before he spoke.
"I never told you, but... I was excited. About the baby." Nathan had been gentle, even kind, inside the room, but now that they were alone, the mask had slipped away.
Eve could feel it in the shift of his posture, in the way his hand fell from her arm as soon as they sat down. He was back to his usual self—cold, cruel, distant. She had expected it, yet it still cut her deeply.
Her heart clenched. Excited? How could he say that now, after everything that had happened?
She turned to him, her voice trembling. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you show it? Instead, you left me alone in all of this..."
"We lost another child," he said, his voice harsh and void of emotion. "Another life gone because you couldn't keep it. How many times is this going to happen, Eve? How many more times do we have to go through this?"
The mention of their unborn child broke something inside her. The tears she had been holding back began to blur her vision, but she refused to let them fall. Did he hate her that much? To blame her for the loss of their child? She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to gather her strength, but the pain of his words lingered like a wound that wouldn't heal.
"I didn't want this," Eve whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't want to lose our baby." Her eyes, glassy with unshed tears, met his, but his face was unreadable.
She had held everything in for so long, and now, it was all crashing down around her. "I wanted them so much," she whispered. "I wanted to be their mother... "
Nathan's gaze remained cold, devoid of sympathy or understanding. "I didn't say you did the miscarriage purposely. But it happened, didn't it? Again." His tone was sharp, as though the words were arrows aimed at her heart. "I didn't even know you were pregnant. And now, it's gone, just like that."
Her breath hitched. She had expected him to be cruel, but not like this. Not so heartless. Her hands trembled as she clasped them tightly in her lap, trying to hold herself together. "I was going to tell you," she said, her voice breaking. "But… you've never given me the chance. You didn't care to listen before."
He scoffed, his jaw clenched tightly. "Care to listen? When have you ever told me anything worth listening to? You've spent our entire marriage hiding things. Keeping secrets."
The accusation stung, and Eve felt a sharp ache in her chest. "I didn't hide this because I wanted to, Nathan. I was scared. You've never been there for me. How could I come to you with this?"
Nathan stood up, pacing a few steps away, his back to her. "You should've told me, Eve," he said in a low, stern voice. "I deserved to know. I had a right to know."
The irony of his words made her lips tremble with the urge to scream. He cares now? After everything, now he thought he had a right?
Her voice rose, the pain in her heart spilling into her words. "You don't care about me, Nathan. You never have! You brought your mistress into our home, treated me like I was nothing, and now you want to talk about rights?"
Nathan turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. "That's not what this is about."
Eve stood up now, unable to sit still any longer. "Then what is this about, Nathan? Tell me. Because I've been trying to understand for three years why you hate me so much. Why you've made it your mission to destroy me."
His expression darkened, the cruelty flashing in his eyes. "You know why, Eve. Don't act like you don't."
Her heart sank. She knew. She knew exactly what he was referring to. But it wasn't the truth—it was the lie he had built his hatred on. "You're wrong," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been wrong."
Nathan's face twisted into a sneer. "Wrong? No, I'm not wrong, Eve. You just refuse to accept responsibility for what you've done."
Eve felt her knees weaken. She wanted to collapse, to curl into herself and disappear. His words were daggers to her already wounded soul.
"How can you blame me for something I didn't do? How can you hate me for something you don't even understand?"
Nathan's silence was louder than any words he could have spoken. He stared at her, his face hard as stone, as if daring her to continue.
"I loved you, Nathan," Eve said, her voice trembling but filled with years of pent-up sorrow. "I loved you from the moment I said I do.' And all you've done is push me away. I've lost everything trying to hold on to this marriage—trying to hold on to you. But you've never once let me in."
His jaw tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something—pain, perhaps—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"You don't know me, Eve," Nathan said, his voice cold and final. "You never did."
Her tears finally fell, the walls she had built to protect herself crumbling at his feet. "You're right," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't know you. And I don't think I ever will."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Nathan looked at her, before turning away once more. The distance between them had never felt so vast, so unbridgeable.
Eve wiped her tears, her heart heavy with a sadness she could no longer bear. She had lost another child, and now, she realized, she had lost Nathan too—perhaps for good.
Without another word, Eve turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the garden.
But as she left, a small part of her still ached, wondering if he would ever be the man she once believed he could be. Or if he would always remain the cold stranger who had shattered her heart beyond repair.