I had done so much for him. Yet in the end, none of it mattered as much as a single tear from his new lover.
It felt like a blunt knife being driven into my heart, over and over again.
I propped myself upright and looked at the two of them wrapped in that tender little tableau. A bitter laugh escaped me.
"Should I be grateful to him? Grateful that for your sake, he terminated my full-term baby, secretly had my uterus removed, nearly killed me, and still graciously stayed by my bedside to wait for me to wake up?"
Beryl's tears fell like a broken string of pearls. She glared at me, stubborn defiance blazing through the wetness.
"Fine, it's all my fault! I'm the one who ruined you! Let me atone for it, then!"
She shoved Dennis away like a woman possessed, snatched the fruit knife from my bedside table, and drove it toward her own stomach.
"I'll cut my baby and my uterus out right now to make it up to you! Is that enough?!"
Dennis locked his arms around her, one hand clamping the blade. Blood streamed through his fingers. He lifted his head and fixed me with a stare so cold it could freeze bone.
"Veronica. Are you satisfied now?"