A Threatened Miscarriage

Desmond’s frustration boiled over. He snatched Tessa’s fragile arm, his fingers digging into her skin like a vice, and dragged her toward his sleek black Bentley.

"Just do as you’re told!" he barked, his voice echoing sharply across the morning driveway.

Tessa stumbled, her heels scraping against the pavement. A wave of profound offense washed through her. The man before her was always cold, but he had never resorted to such raw aggression before Sloane Mercer returned to town. It all came back to Sloane. It always did.

She dug her heels in and yanked her arm back, breaking his bruising grip. She glared at him, her chest heaving. "Who’s the one that’s in the wrong here?!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "It’s you and Sloane!"

Desmond froze. His brow furrowed in genuine confusion. He stared at her as if she had grown a second head. He never expected someone as typically gentle and submissive as Tessa to raise her voice like that.

"Are you saying that I’m in the wrong for divorcing you?" he asked, missing the point by a mile.

Tessa let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "Ha! I don't even have the courage to say that! Since in your twisted eyes, I’m the cowardly, shameless thief that stole you from the woman you love the moment she went overseas!" She spat the words out, the rage and long-suppressed hurt finally spilling over.

Before Desmond could formulate a response to her outburst, the shrill ringtone of his phone sliced through the tense air. The sound snapped him out of his trance. He cast a dark look at Tessa before pulling the device from his pocket and answering it.

Tessa took a step back, rubbing her throbbing wrist. She turned her head, ready to walk away, when Sloane’s hysterical, sobbing voice pierced through the phone's receiver, loud enough for Tessa to hear.

"Desmond! I really don’t want to marry someone else! I came back for you!" Sloane wailed. "Why is Grandmama forcing me like this for Tessa?! Desmond, when I jump... when I end it all, don't blame her. Take good care of her just like how my grandmama and aunt want it!"

The line went dead.

Desmond’s face drained of color. Panic, raw and unfiltered, seized his features. He remembered Sloane crying the night before, threatening suicide. Without a second glance at Tessa, he spun around, threw open the car door, and vaulted into the driver's seat.

The Bentley’s engine roared to life. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal.

The massive vehicle surged forward like a bullet. Tessa, standing too close to the edge of the driveway, did not have time to step back. The powerful draft of the accelerating car caught her off balance. Her feet slipped on the loose gravel.

She pitched forward, crashing hard onto the rough concrete. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs. A stinging, burning sensation flared across her palms as the skin scraped against the gravel. She sat frozen on the ground, the morning chill seeping through her clothes. She stared blankly at the rapidly retreating red taillights of the Bentley, slowly bringing her hands up. Blood oozed from the deep scratches, mingling with the dirt.

She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to break down right there on the driveway. She took a shuddering breath, preparing to push herself up.

Then, the pain hit.

A sharp, agonizing cramp jolted through her lower abdomen. It was a vicious, twisting sensation, far worse than the dull ache from earlier that morning. She gasped, her arms wrapping around her stomach as she curled in on herself.

"Why is it so painful this time?" she muttered through gritted teeth. She convinced herself it was just an unusually bad period, exacerbated by the shock and the hard fall. Perhaps the fertility acupuncture she had been receiving at the private clinic was causing adverse side effects.

Gritting her teeth against the waves of cramps, she forced herself to stand. Her legs trembled, but she managed to stumble down the street and flag down a passing taxi, giving the driver the address to the hospital to fetch her mother’s medical reports.

The taxi ride was a blur of grinding teeth and cold sweat. By the time Tessa pushed through the revolving glass doors of the bustling hospital lobby, the pain had reached a terrifying crescendo.

The bright fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulse. The murmur of patients, the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum, and the intercom announcements merged into a deafening roar in her ears. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel. Black spots danced across her sight.

She took one step, then another. The floor beneath her seemed to tilt. The pain in her abdomen flared into a white-hot agony. She reached out, trying to grab a nearby pillar, but her fingers closed around empty air. The world spun out of control, and she collapsed onto the cold floor.

Chaos erupted around her. Voices shouted. Footsteps hurried.

Not far away, Dr. Nolan Pierce stood near the reception desk, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his crisp white coat. He heard the sudden commotion and turned his head.

"What’s wrong with her?" a bystander asked, stepping back.

"She fainted! Get a doctor!" another yelled.

Nolan’s professional instincts kicked in. He strode swiftly toward the gathering crowd. Two nurses were already rushing over, calling for a stretcher.

"What’s going on?" Nolan demanded, his authoritative tone parting the murmuring onlookers.

"Doctor Pierce," one of the nurses said quickly. "This woman suddenly collapsed. There’s no one accompanying her."

Nolan pushed past the last ring of people and looked down. His breath caught. Pale, motionless, and lying on the cold tile was Tessa Carlisle.

He didn't hesitate. Bending down, he scooped her limp body into his arms. She felt dangerously light, her skin clammy with sweat.

"Doctor, please wait," a nurse protested, stepping in his path. "We’ve already contacted the emergency ward. We have to follow protocol..."

"Leave this to me," Nolan commanded firmly, cutting her off. He adjusted his grip on Tessa and carried her rapidly down the corridor, heading straight for a private ward.

A sterile, blinding whiteness greeted Tessa when she finally fluttered her heavy eyelids open. The scent of antiseptic filled her nose. She blinked, trying to clear the lingering fog from her brain, and turned her head.

Dr. Nolan Pierce stood closely by her bedside. His usually gentle face was set in a severe, dark expression.

Tessa offered a weak, trembling smile. "Doctor Pierce," she murmured, her voice raspy. "I'm just here... for my mother's reports."

Nolan did not return the smile. "You fainted in the hospital lobby."

The memory of the agonizing cramps rushed back. Tessa shifted, feeling a dull ache still lingering low in her belly.

Nolan leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "Why isn't your husband accompanying you?"

Tessa looked away, staring at the crisp white bedsheets. Shame burned in her chest. How could she explain that Desmond had abandoned her in the driveway to rush to the side of a woman threatening suicide?

"He is very busy," she said quietly, hiding the bitterness in her tone.

"No matter how busy he is, he should at least have some time to accompany his pregnant wife," Nolan stated, his voice ringing with firm disapproval. "Not to mention you are physically unwell. It is not safe for you to be out on your own right now."

Tessa froze. The air in the room seemed to vanish. She stared at him, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"What did you say?" her breath hitched.

"You are pregnant," Nolan repeated clearly and definitively.

Tessa shook her head back and forth on the pillow. Hot tears instantly spilled over her pale cheeks, tracking down her temples. "How is that even possible? I am infertile. I took medicine for two years and nothing came of it. You must have made a mistake, Doctor."

Nolan frowned, watching her struggle to sit up. He reached out, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder, pressing her back down against the mattress. "Lie down and stop moving."

There was no joy in Tessa's face. Only raw, terrifying anxiety. The reality of the situation crashed down upon her like a tidal wave. She was on the verge of divorcing Desmond. She had accepted that he would go back to Sloane. But if she was truly pregnant, how could she proceed with the divorce? How could she walk away and let her child be born into a broken family, fatherless from the very start?

The mental anguish tore at her. She swallowed hard, desperately trying to mask the despair gnawing at her soul.

"What are you afraid of?" Nolan asked softly, his severe expression softening into concern. "You should be happy that you can still carry a child with your condition."

Tessa shook her head, pressing her lips tightly together. She could not tell an outsider about the tragedy of her impending marriage.

"Does Mr. Carlisle not want a child?" Nolan guessed, reading the grief in her eyes.

"No, that's not it," Tessa lied, her voice shaking. She grasped for an excuse. "The timing is just very poor. My mother is terminally ill, and I need to focus all my energy on taking care of her. I can't afford to be distracted."

Nolan straightened up. He knew about Vera's condition and understood the immense burden Tessa was carrying.

"We can arrange for a nurse to care for your mother," Nolan advised gently. "But right now, you have to take care of yourself."

Tessa slowly moved her bruised, bandaged hand down to rest flat against her stomach. "I am really pregnant?"

"Yes."

"But... I had bleeding," she whispered, confusion swirling in her mind. "I thought it was my period."

Nolan’s expression turned grim. He adopted his most professional medical tone. "That wasn't a period. Your body is very frail right now. What you experienced were the clinical signs of a threatened miscarriage."

Tessa's breath hitched again. "A threatened miscarriage?"

"If you are not careful, you will lose your baby," he warned.

A crushing weight of guilt slammed into Tessa's chest. She had assumed the cramps and the bleeding were normal. She had let Desmond push her to the ground. She hadn't protected the tiny life growing inside her. Tears welled up afresh, blurring her vision.

She grabbed the sleeve of Nolan’s white coat, her knuckles turning white. "Is my child okay? How can I protect my baby?"

Nolan looked down at her desperate, tear-stained face. She looked so vulnerable, yet the fierce, protective instinct of a mother was already blazing in her eyes.

"The bleeding has stopped for now," Nolan reassured her, placing his hand over hers. "But you must follow my instructions to the letter. You must avoid all emotional stress. Get plenty of rest. Take the prescribed medicine, including iron supplements for your anemia. And you must return to me for mandatory checkups. Because your condition is unstable, I want to see you every single week."

Tessa sniffed loudly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She desperately tried to hold back the cascading tears, her resolve hardening despite her broken state.

"Of course," she whispered, her voice trembling but determined. "Of course. I will do whatever it takes."

Seeing her shattered, vulnerable state, a deep sense of sympathy washed over Nolan. He slowly extended his warm hand toward her face. He wanted nothing more than to gently brush away the tears clinging to her red, swollen eyelashes.

His fingertips moved closer, crossing the short distance between them.

But before he could make contact, the sharp, heavy sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the corridor directly behind him.

His hand hovered, frozen just inches from her cheek.