An accident that never should have happened was caused by someone who never should have been driving my car, and it was all because of the man I once loved more than life itself.

Tears slid down my face silently, soaking the pillow in moments.

The nurse sighed and handed me a tissue. "We've been trying to reach your husband, but his phone keeps going to voicemail. Do you have contact information for any other family members?"

My husband. Zachary. The word jolted me from my grief like a shock.

Right. Zachary.

I needed to tell him what the woman he was so desperate to save had done.

My hands shaking, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. The screen was shattered but still worked.

I found his number and called. This time, he picked up right away.

"Cece? What is going on with you? I've called you multiple times, but you didn't answer! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" His voice was frantic, dripping with reproach.

I had no energy left to wonder if he meant any of it. I used every ounce of strength I had left to speak, forcing each word out, "Zachary, I was in a car accident. I'm at Ford Maternity Hospital..."

Before I could finish, he cut me off.

"What? You were in an accident too? What are the odds? Em got into an accident on her way back! I'm with her right now, dealing with it. She's terrified. Her arm is scraped up, and she's bleeding everywhere!" His voice brimmed with urgency and concern, but none of it was for me.

Her arm was scraped up, and she was bleeding everywhere...

I glanced down at the IV needle in my own wrist and my deathly pale skin. I almost wanted to laugh.

"Cecilia, how bad is it on your end? What did the driver say? Just handle things yourself for now and have a doctor check you out. I really can't leave here. Em's all alone. She doesn't have any family. It's heartbreaking. As soon as I finish up here, I'll come straight to you. Okay?"

His tone had that same unquestionable certainty. My problems could always wait.

At that moment, my heart died completely. I said nothing.

From the other end of the line, I heard Emma's delicate voice. "Zach, my arm hurts so much. The doctor said it might scar. I'm so scared."

Then came Zachary's gentle reassurance. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. Medical technology is so advanced now. A little scrape like that won't leave a scar. I had someone pick up that pasta from the place you love. He'll bring it over soon."

I could not listen anymore.

I hung up quietly. I opened my text messages and typed slowly, one letter at a time. Then, I hit send.

The message was brief: [We lost the baby.]