Sidney stopped asking questions. She didn't cry or react otherwise, just lying quietly in bed, deep in thought. Jayson received the miscarriage meal his friend had personally delivered, opened the thermos, and carefully poured the contents into bowls, serving her the meal by hand.
"Drink some soup," Jayson gently brought the spoon to her lips.
Sidney shook her head, signaling that she didn't want to drink.
"How about some food? You haven't eaten in a while, you need something to regain your strength," he said gently.
Sidney didn't respond. She just lay there, turning her back to him.
Jayson silently explained to himself that she was still feeling down and didn't press her. He placed the bowl down and reminded her to eat it while it was still hot, then let her quietly face the wall and rest.
Sidney wasn't asleep. With her eyes closed, she could almost still feel the heat, the scorching temperature lingering on her skin. The pain in her finger had faded, thanks to the painkillers, but the numbness that followed was worse. She couldn't even feel the absence of her finger anymore. Beneath the covers, her fingers hesitated for a moment before gently brushing the layers of gauze wrapped around her left hand.
Everything happened too quickly, too suddenly. She hadn't had time to process what had happened. Now, lying in the hospital bed, the events of the past few days played over and over in her mind. She had lost so much—more than she ever thought she could handle. Each time the memories resurfaced, she felt as if she were teetering on the edge of falling apart.
Hearing the sound of Jayson leaving the room, Sidney began to silently cry. The tears she had been holding back finally broke free, spilling down her cheeks in a torrent. She curled up under the covers, her body shaking with quiet sobs. She had once been filled with excitement at the thought of becoming a mother, but now, she had failed to protect that child. The loss of her finger felt insignificant compared to the aching emptiness in her heart. She couldn't shake the bitter thought that those who sacrificed a child's life for their own grudges deserved nothing but death. She would have gladly traded her own life for the baby's, but she never imagined losing the child like this.
Jayson entered again. Sidney wiped her tears under the covers and pretended to sleep. She didn't know how to face him or what attitude to take toward him. In her heart, a voice kept telling her that losing the child today was all his fault, and a quiet wave of hatred began to rise. But she kept telling herself she couldn't hate him. They were married, and he was also heartbroken over the loss of the baby. How could she hate him?
The conflicting emotions made Sidney not want to face him.
Jayson went out to get hot water, placed the thermos on the table, and noticed that the food hadn't been touched. He couldn't help but urge her, "The soup is getting cold, come drink a little. You can't just skip meals like this."
Sidney didn't want to speak and kept her back to him.
"What's wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell?" Jayson noticed something was off and forced himself to turn Sidney around to check.
Her tear-streaked face and the sorrow in her eyes broke him. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if trying to shield her from the world. His hand gently stroked her hair, the softness of the gesture a silent attempt at comfort, but the weight of her pain left him speechless.
She let him hold her, but didn't hug him back. She seemed lifeless, like a doll. Jayson cupped her face, looked at her carefully, and said gently, "We can have another child. We'll be able to have children again."
Sidney finally looked up at him, but her eyes were cold.
She let out a bitter laugh before speaking, her voice rough, as though it had been scraped with sandpaper. "Any child we have won't be the one I lost. How can you say we can 'get it back'?"
Sidney's words left Jayson speechless.
After a moment, he finally spoke, "Once you've recovered, we'll hold a memorial for the baby, so their soul can find peace. They'll be in a better place, okay? Don't be sad. None of this was something we wanted." Jayson, already physically and emotionally exhausted, forced himself to comfort her, while also trying to comfort himself.
