Yawning, I crawl into bed. I can't remember being this exhausted in a while. I feel the bed shift, and I know he's climbing in. It's not comforting. I wish he'd leave. His hands wrap around my waist, digging into the flesh. It's painful, demanding. The only thing he wants from me resides between my thighs. He adjusts me, unconcerned that I'm unresponsive. I try to push him away, but my hands feel weighty. He's never been gentle, and he isn't now. I take it because that is what the other woman does. Why do I love this vile man as much as I do? He tugs my head back by my hair and whispers the angriest of things in my ear. I try to open my eyes, but they're too heavy. As the darkness takes me, I feel him enter me. I hear him growl, and I let myself drift off, away from this cruel man and his abuse I so willingly take.
It'scold when I pries my eyes open. The first thing I notice is that I'm not in my bed. I'm in a hospital room. Drip lines, and other cords attach my hand to a monitor. This must be a dream.
"Cohen," I call out, feeling the numbing effects of drugs in my system. I run my hand over my belly. It feels different. What the hell happened? "My baby." The words stick in my throat.
"Ms. Morgan." It's a voice I don't recognize. "I'm Doctor Finch."
I try to focus on the tall stranger in front of me. “Where’s my baby?” He’s blurry, fading in and out of my periphery. It looks like he’s floating. “What’s going on? Where am I?”
"Ms. Morgan, please try to calm down." He places a cold hand on my arm. I want to scream. I need to get out of this bed and find my baby.
“You’re in a hospital. You had to be brought in. You went into early labor,"" He pauses, and his grip on my arms tightens. It's unwelcome. "Your baby didn't make it."
"What? No. You're lying. Where is she?" The tears spring free, and I tug at the drip lines. Blood starts to spray everywhere. I try to sit up, but the pain in my lower abdomen is excruciating.
“Please.” The doctor pushes my shoulders back on the bed. “You’ve had a caesarean section. You need to stay in bed a bit longer.
"I want to see my baby." I yell.
“Of course, we can arrange that.”
Everything aches, but it's my heart that shatters in my chest. I feel a part of my soul slip away. I cry until my limbs ache. He injects something in my drip line, and it makes my eyes close of their own accord.
Cohen wasn't kind. He never visited me in the hospital. I didn't see him for the next month. He was off playing happy family with Sinclair. She had their first baby but couldn't even remember her pregnancy. But I recalled mine and had no baby to show for it. The icy skin of the baby I'd held when I came to again in that hospital stays with me.
But like a drug, I was addicted to the idea of Cohen and me, and when he returned to my bed, I thought we may have a chance. But after their second child, I realized that I had to take matters into my own hands.
I never noticed it at first, but the closer I got to Sinclair, and Willow, the more different they, seemed to be. Willow was sporty and not artsy like Sin. They couldn't have looked more different if they tried. Sure, Gracie looks like her father, but there are similarities she has with Sin. The same jawline and tilt of the head. Willow, on the other hand, reminded me of my mother. Their eyes were the same shade of blue. And so I did what any sane person would do. I took a DNA sample and had tests done.
I clench my fists when I think about it.
I knock at the door. "Go away," Willow yells. I sigh. She hasn't eaten. I watch her on the monitor, and she has figured out that there's something in her food.
“I can’t do that, Willow. I need to talk to you.”
“You’re a liar, a criminal. I want to go home. To my family.”
I don’t know what the plan is. I didn’t think that far. All I knew was that I had to get away and that I wanted her with me. I have to believe in time she will come to understand that I’m doing this for her own good.
“I’m none of those things. I wish you’d let yourself see that.”
“Are you crazy? Can you even hear yourself?” She bangs at the door. “You kidnapped me. My parents are going crazy looking for me.”
“I know that it’s hard to understand, but if you just let me explain.”
“Chelsea, I think we are way past that point. You’re fucking nuts.”
“I’m nuts.” I laugh bitterly. “You have no idea what your family is capable of.”
“Newsflash. They aren’t the ones with a kid locked in a room,” she spits. She starts to pound on the door.
“Stop that. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
"Then you'll have to come in here, and I'll get to scratch your eyes out with my good hand. Psycho."
I place a hand on the door, taking deep breaths to stop myself from losing it. She is a teenager, I remind myself. She doesn't know the things I do. But she will, and I want Sin to be the one to tell her. Everything is falling into place. But with that cop in Sin's life, I'll have to be careful.
See, Cohen, she didn't even choose you. When things got tough, she ran into the arms of another man, and you're out in the cold.
