Pain crashed over Ellana like a tidal wave, pulling her back to reframes. 

She groggily opened her eyes to find her self on a hospital gurney, medical staff working frantically around her. 

*Patient presents with blunt force abdominal trauma. We’re seeing, significant internal bleeding. She’s approximately eight weeks pregnant–we need to get her to OR stat and prep for emergency transfusion. But sir, all our ( negative reserves were allocated to the VIP patient per the board directive.” 

The attending physician immediately grabbed his phone. 

“Mr. Blake, this is Dr. Martinez at Mount Sinai. I understand you authorized the transfer of our entire blood bank for your emergency case. We have a pregnant trauma victim in critical condition who needs immediate transfusion. Can we get half those units back? We’re looking at potential fetal are maternal loss here.” 

Through her fog of pain, Eliana heard Milo’s voice come through the speaker, cold and decisive. 

“Not happening.” 

“Mr. Blake, I need you to understand–this patient is hemorrhaging. We’re talking minutes here, not hours…” 

“Listen carefully, Doctor. This is my hospital, and you work for me. Harper Lennox is my priority, and I won’t risk any complications with her treatment. End of discussion.” 

The line went dead. 

Dr. Martinez tried calling back, but Milo had already shut off his phone. 

Lying there, listening to her husband choose another woman over their unborn child, Eliana felt something fundamental break inside her. 

She pressed her hand to her cramping stomach, understanding with crystal clarity that even their baby–a child that had never asked to exist–wasn’t worth fighting for in Milo’s eyes. 

Maybe the baby knew too. Maybe that’s why it was already letting go. 

The next time she woke up, a young resident was standing beside her bed, charts in hand. 

“Ms. Hart, I’m Dr. Kim. I’m very sorry to tell you that despite our efforts, we weren’t able to save the pregnancy. The trauma caused a complete placental abruption.” 

Eliana’s hand moved to her now–empty womb. The baby that might have had Milo’s eyes and her stubbornness was gone. 

“You’re young and healthy,” Dr. Kim continued gently. “When you’re ready, there’s no medical reason you can’t conceive again.” 

Eliana turned her face toward the window. “No. There won’t be a next time.” 

“The other patient,” she asked quietly, “the VIP case–did she pull through?” 

Dr. Kim shifted uncomfortably, “Yes, she’s stable. Ms. Hart, I want you to know that what happened here tonight… it wasn’t right. But Mr. Blake has significant influence over hospital operations, and…” 

“I get it,” Eliana said, her voice eerily calm. “She’s very important to him.” 

More important than his wife. More important than his child. More important than everything Eliana had ever been or could ever be. 

After Dr. Kim left, Eliana pulled out the battered scorecard from her purse and wrote her final entry: 

“Chose Harper over our baby points” 

One hundred points. Comple 

No network available now. Please check your network. 

As her pen tore through the paper, she felt the last connection to Milo Blake sever completely. The woman who had spent three years trying to earn his love had died in that operating room along with their child. 

4.4% 

Chapter 

When she returned to their house late that evening. It felt like a mausoleum. 

Eliana walked directly to the study and retrieved the divorce papers from the bottom drawer. Her signature was steady–ste after them died tel 

years 

She placed both the divorce agreement and the completed scorecard on Milo’s mahogany desk, right next to the photo of him and Harper at their h school graduation. 

Grabbing her suitcase, she paused at the front door and took one last look at the life she wa 

leaving behind- 

His coffee mug still sat on the kitchen counter. His jacket hung on the back of his chair. The whole house still smelled like his cologne and broken promises. 

For three years, she’d kept this door open for him. Kept her heart open. Kept hoping. 

Not anymore. 

Eliana stepped outside and closed the door with a soft click, sealing off the part of her life where she’d been small and grateful and desperately in love with someone who’d never been available to love her back. 

She wasn’t that woman anymore. 

That woman had died tonight, and she wasn’t coming back.