I screamed like one who had lost her mind. “Help me! Help! Help!” But the echoes of my own voice mocked me, told me how vain and useless I was.

Then came the weakness, my eyes drifting close, my body threatening to shut down from the blood loss. I knew I would die right there on this floor if I didn’t help myself.

So I did. Tears poured down my eyes as I dragged red strokes across the white tiles, finally reaching the front door where the intruder alarm button mocked me. Teeth gritted, I leaned up as far as my fingers would reach and slammed it into the red button.

Sirens wailed not quite long after and everything went dark. When I regained consciousness, I screamed for the doctors, yelling for my baby. And the fragile hope that had kept me sane was yanked from me. The doctor’s words echoed in my brain–I’m so sorry, Mrs. Havilliard, but we weren’t able to save the baby. I’m so sorry.”

“No…doctor…this can’t be true. Please do something. Check again…I swear my baby’s fine…” I held onto his arms, shaking my head as tears flew down my cheeks. But his answering sad nod fell my arms to my side. God! My baby. Gone. It did nothing. It was innocent.

A shout down the hallway snapped me out of my reverie and my eyes blinked, taking in the hospital room and then tracked down to my wrist where an I.V was hooked and then to the card held between my fingers

–Happy Anniversary, my love. Rest well and return home soon.

Those were the only words scribbled on the card. A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. He didn’t even know. He thought I was in the hospital for some elaborate bed rest. He didn’t know I’d lost our baby. I could bet my right arm he wasn’t even the one who picked out the flowers. My favorite flowers were tulips and he knew this. He must have sent his assistant or something.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and angry as I ripped the card into tiny pieces. I dragged my knees up to my chest and hugged myself tight as the tears burned a hot track on my cheeks. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? Why didn’t my husband care?

When my eyes grew too brittle for tears, I unfurled and sat up on the hospital bed. With trembling hands, I picked up my cell phone and dialed the number he worshiped more than anything, his office line.

After a few rings, the call went through and I didn’t wait for the voice on the other end to speak before I whispered. “I want a divorce, Rhys.”