Chapter Five #2
“Dee,” the doctor says softly. “I know you’re angry.
Anyone would be. But this doesn’t make you any less of a woman.
With time and the right support, you’ll see that.
You can still be a mother. You can still have children.
You can still have a beautiful, full life.
It’s just going to look a little different than what you imagined. ”
Different.
Everything about me is different now.
Hollow.
Shattered.
Ruined.
“I don’t want to do it differently. Colt, call your lawyer. We’re going to sue. You took away my chance of being a mother, and I didn’t consent to it. Now everything is fucked, and it’s all your fault,” I yell, pointing my finger at the doctor.
Colt takes my hands and exhales. “Baby, we’re not going to sue. You can’t. He saved your life,” Colt whispers.
“He took my chance to make a life, Colt.”
“Dee, you have options. I know it’s hard to see that right now.
And believe me, if there were another way to save your life, I would’ve taken it.
But this was the only way to save you. When you’ve had time to heal from the shock, I’ll talk with you both about it some more.
But in the meantime, you need to rest, and I recommend counseling for both of you.
Again, I’m incredibly sorry, and if I’d had another way we would have taken it. You would be dead right now—”
“You should have let me die,” I murmur.
Colt lets out a soft gasp, like the air’s been punched from his lungs, and his whole body flinches.
The moment the words leave my mouth, guilt crushes me.
I didn’t mean it.
Not really.
But in this moment, in this pain, it feels like death would have been easier than this all-consuming grief.
“You don’t mean that,” the doctor says gently, his voice low but steady.
“In time, you will feel better. But there’s a natural grieving process ahead of you.
Just remember… you still have three eggs.
All is not lost, Dee.” He half-smiles before quietly slipping from the room, leaving Colt and me in the wreckage.
I turn to him, and the look on his face is a mirror of my own—shattered.
He’s trying so damn hard to be strong, to stay grounded for me. But I don’t deserve that. Not his comfort. Not his tenderness. Not when I’ve taken everything from him.
My bottom lip trembles as I gaze at the man I love, the man I’ve let down in the cruelest way possible.
“Oh God, Colt…”
“I know, baby, but I’m here for you.” He leans in, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “I love you, Dee. This doesn’t change a thing—”
“It fucking changes everything. Don’t you dare tell me it doesn’t!” I snap, the tears making my voice raw and fractured.
Colt flinches, but he doesn’t back down.
He shakes his head hard, determined. “That’s where you’re wrong, Dee.
It doesn’t. I love you. We have three chances.
A surrogate won’t be hard to find. And when the time is right, we’ll have a child that’s part of you and part of me.
Don’t give up hope, not yet. It’ll be okay, I promise. ”
I stare at him, anger and anguish churning inside me.
“Can’t you see? I’ll never get pregnant, Colt,” I say bitterly, each word like glass cutting my tongue.
He frowns, and I see the heartbreak in his eyes, but it only makes me spiral harder.
“I’ll never feel our baby growing inside me,” I cry.
“A part of you. A part of me. I’ll never get morning sickness, never waddle through a grocery store with swollen ankles, and that stupid glow everyone talks about.
I’ll never feel those first flutters. I’ll never see your face light up when you feel our baby kick for the first time. ”
My voice breaks completely. “I-I can’t give you any of th-that, Colt. I’m defective. I’m broken. H-how can you still want me?”
He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine, breathing through the weight of everything I just unloaded on him. “I will always want you,” he says fiercely. Then he pulls back just enough to point to the tattoo inked across his forearm. C & D — Until the End of Time.
He waits until my eyes meet his. “You see this?” he asks, voice thick with emotion.
I nod through a quiet sniffle.
“I meant that, Dee. Every. Damn. Word. Nothing will stop me from spending my forever with you. I love you more than life itself. And yeah, this is crushing. It’s unfair. It’s devastating. But a life without you? That’s not a life I want. I’d give up everything if it meant keeping you.”
I start to cry again, but this time it’s different. Softer. Less wild.
“We weren’t planning a baby yet.” He continues, “But that day will come. We have three chances. And when the time’s right, we’ll take them. Together. But right now, we focus on you and on healing. One step at a time, baby.”
His voice is steady. Grounding.
And even though I’m broken, a piece of me wants to believe him.
My tears slow.
My breathing evens out.
And for the first time since the doctor spoke, I don’t feel like I’m drowning.
He wraps his arms around me when I nod, and I melt into his side. I let myself cry those deep, aching sobs that shake my entire body.
He doesn’t let go.
He holds me like I’m whole, like I’m not broken and defective beyond repair.
Like I’m still the woman he fell in love with.
And somehow, through his touch, through the warmth of his body against mine, I believe—just for a second—that maybe he still sees me that way too. I continue to cry into his shoulder until there’s nothing left. Until my tears dry and my sobs become soft, shallow breaths.
We don’t speak.
What is there to say?
I’ve failed him.
As a fiancée.
As a woman.
I can’t give him the family he deserves.
And no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, I don’t know if we’ll ever truly recover from that.
Yes, we have three frozen chances at a future, but they come with so many maybes.
Maybe the eggs will survive.
Maybe we’ll find someone willing to carry our child.
Maybe, just maybe, it’ll all work out.
Maybe it won’t too.
But who willingly goes through months of injections and hormones just to hand over the baby they’ve grown inside them?
And the thought of another woman carrying his child?
It makes my stomach twist in ways I can’t describe.
This feels cruel.
I don’t want it to be like this.
But I can’t see another way.
Somehow, I have to accept that motherhood may not be in the cards for me. And as much as I try not to think it, the truth won’t leave me alone.
Colt deserves to be a father.
And if I can’t give him that?
What hope is there for us?
***
A nurse comes in a little while later to explain the joys of impending menopause—hot flashes, anxiety, fatigue, sweating—all side effects of the hysterectomy. I’ll be starting hormone replacement therapy with daily tablets to trick my body into believing it’s not already fifty.
Basically, I now have the body of a middle-aged woman.
How appealing for Colt.
I didn’t think it was possible to feel worse, but when she leaves, I do.
This is too much for him.
He shouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit.
He’s young, successful, and at the height of his career. He shouldn’t be worrying about how broken I’ve become.
Colt sits with me, holding my hand as I stare blankly at the hormone therapy brochure, unable even to process the words on the goddamn page.
How did my life turn to this?
“Baby, what can I do? You look miserable,” he whispers, caressing my cheek.
I don’t look up. “I am miserable.”
Colt exhales, long and hard. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Colt—”
“It is my fault!” he snaps, eyes red and glassy. “I let your hand go. If I hadn’t, if I’d just held on tighter…”
He’s breaking, and I hate it.
I hate that he’s carrying this weight when he doesn’t have to.
“You didn’t do this,” I say firmly, tightening my grip on his hand. “It was an accident. I let go too. If you want to blame someone, blame the fucking fans who shoved me into traffic. But don’t you dare blame yourself.”
He shakes his head, tormented. “If we hadn’t gone to the concert… if I hadn’t been so desperate to get you back to the hotel… if I wasn’t so fucking f-famous…” his voice cracks, “… you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed, miserable and broken. I’m no good for you, Dee.”
Panic spikes in my chest.
No.
Not this.
Not now.
“Don’t you dare, Colt.” My voice is sharp, shaking. “You made me better. You are good for me. I wouldn’t have made it through this without you. Don’t even think about leaving me. We know what happened last time we tried that, and it nearly destroyed us both.”
His head lifts quickly, eyes wide. “No, baby. I’m not leaving. I’m never leaving. I didn’t mean it like that. I just… fuck me! I feel so goddamn guilty. I hate that this has happened to you. To us. If things had been different—”
“Colt, stop,” I say, cutting him off. “If you weren’t who you are, we probably never would’ve met.
And I would have lived a half-life. I was no one before you.
Just a boring, lifeless daddy’s girl, completely lost in who she was.
Completely clueless. You make me whole. We make each other better.
So, no more what-ifs. This is our life now.
Yeah, it sucks, but we face it together. That’s all that matters.”
He stares at me like I’ve just saved him. His eyes soften, brimming with everything he’s feeling but can’t say.
I don’t want to cry again, so I’m holding it in, but barely. I need to be strong for him. I need him to believe I’m okay, even if I’m not.
Colt leans forward, brushing his lips gently against mine. His kiss is soft, careful as if I might break. But even the lightest touch from him sends a shiver through me.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.
“I know. I love you too.”
He lies on the bed, and I curl into his side, needing his strength, his warmth, his heartbeat. We hold onto each other in silence, letting the weight of the day settle around us.
Usually, he sleeps in the spare bed the hospital provides, but not tonight. He refuses to leave me, and I need him close more than I need comfort. The bed is cramped, my leg is aching, but I don’t care because Colt is hurting just as much as I am.
I can feel it in the way he holds me.
So I hold him right back.
I have to be strong—for him.
It’s strange, the way grief loops. One moment, I’m convinced I am not good enough for him. Next, he thinks the same about himself.
But the truth is…
… we’re both broken.
And maybe that’s why we fit.
Still, I can’t help wondering—will I be enough for him now?
I stare out at the night sky, sleepless and hollow. The doctor’s words replay in my head, a slow echo I can’t escape.
My world tilted on its axis in one single breath.
I haven’t seen Mummy or Daddy today. And honestly, I’m relieved. I wouldn’t know how to face them.
How do I tell the people who raised me that the daughter they sent off into the world came back missing something she never even imagined losing?
I can’t even say it to myself.
How could I ever say it to them?
But the person I’m dreading most is Anna. She’s my best friend. I love her. I want to cry on her shoulder, tell her how my world has shattered.
But she’s pregnant.
And that fact? That’s everything I’ve lost.
Yesterday, she was here, glowing with excitement.
But today? Today, it feels like a lifetime ago.
And I don’t know how I’ll face her again.
Will I be able to meet her baby?
To hold him?
To celebrate with her instead of resenting her?
God, I hope so.
The last thing I want is to punish Anna for being happy because I can’t be. I wipe a tear from my cheek as the thoughts swirl faster than I can catch them.
Everything is different now.
For me.
For Colt.
For us.
Will we survive this?
Or will my brokenness be the thing that tears us apart?
Sleep doesn’t come easy.
Every time I close my eyes, I hear a baby crying.
Yesterday, I was blissfully unaware.
Today, I’m gutted and hollowed out in ways I never imagined.
It’s like my abdomen is nothing but an empty void, echoing with a loss too catastrophic to name.
A ‘vacancy’ sign flashing in red neon.
And I know it’ll never be filled.
I sniffle again, probably for the thousandth time, and Colt’s arm tightens around me.
“You awake?” he murmurs.
I nod, exhaling shakily.
“You crying?”
“Maybe,” I whisper.
He kisses my forehead and strokes my arm with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. “It’ll be okay, baby. I promise.”
I can’t speak. I just nod and wipe away another tear.
I don’t even know why I’m still crying. How are there any tears left?
It must be close to four in the morning. Colt’s soft breathing starts to soothe me. Just knowing he’s here, alive and holding me, that has to count for something.
Maybe… just maybe… we are strong enough.
His touch anchors me.
His scent calms me.
I belong to him.
With him.
And nothing will change that.
Letting my eyes finally drift closed, I surrender to the dark, allowing Colt’s love to carry me into restless, dreamless sleep.