The divorce papers were already flipped to the last page. Luther took them and signed without hesitation.
“Aren’t you going to read the contents?” Callista asked.
“Isn’t it just about adjusting the IVF plan? Honey, whatever you think is best, I’ll go along with it,” he said.
Callista watched him leave and couldn’t help but let out a bitter, mocking laugh. He was still claiming to do everything for her, even now.
She picked up the medicine that had been sitting on the coffee table for six days and swallowed it.
Her throat tightened with emotion as she gently placed a hand on her stomach.
“I’m sorry, my darling.”
She had given Luther so many chances, and he had failed to grasp even one. After packing her bags, Callista went to the hospital alone.
“You’re four weeks pregnant. The baby’s heartbeat is strong, and development is normal. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?” the doctor, Eve Lowle, asked.
“No,” Callista replied after a long pause.
“It’s such a shame. You went through so much after losing the last baby due to the wrong herbal medicine.
“You endured so much pain to conceive again—and now you’re giving up. It will be even harder to have children in the future,” Eve said with a sigh.
Callista froze, and her head snapped up. Her voice was hoarse as she forced the words out. “The last miscarriage… was because of herbal medicine?”
Eve frowned. “Yes, didn’t Mr. Spencer ever tell you?”
So, he had known all along. A buzzing sound filled Callista’s ears.
During her first pregnancy, Jane had sent herbal tonics every week, claiming they were for a healthy pregnancy.
The bitter concoctions were so hard to swallow that Luther had coaxed her through each dose, one spoonful at a time.
When the miscarriage happened, her body was so damaged that IVF became the only option. She had always thought the miscarriage was an unfortunate accident.
For five years, through six rounds of IVF and five failed attempts, Luther had watched her torment herself with guilt and self-blame.
He had told her it wasn’t her fault. But not once had he told her the truth: that the fault wasn’t hers.
“Ms. Caldwell, are you alright?” Eve asked while handing her a tissue, and Callista realized her face was streaked with tears.
“If you’re feeling unwell, perhaps take some time to think it over—”
“No need,” Callista said firmly while wiping her tears away.
“I’ll proceed with it.”
