The Devil's Bride

Chapter 1: Haunted by her past

Megan's POV

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. You can no longer bear a child," the doctor announced, adjusting his glasses on his pointed nostrils.

My heart slammed against my rib cage, my breathing hitching. His words echoed in my head, my lips trembling. It couldn't be possible. There was no way I was barren. Richard and I had longed to have a baby, and this? This wasn't expected.

I tried to piece the fragments of the words the doctor said, but it made no sense. None of the words he said did. Sweat trickled down my temples. I tried to speak, but the words got stuck in my throat.

"Doctor, I think something's wrong with the report. I can't be barren," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

My vision blurred, and I fought hard to restrain the tears that threatened to escape. The beeping of the machines was muffled in my ears; all I could hear was the loud beating of my heart.

"There's nothing we can do, ma'am. Your womb has been destroyed, and you can no longer conceive," he said with a tone of finality, a sigh escaping his lips.

"But you are free to adopt a baby. You see, all hope isn't lost," he said reassuringly.

I slipped from my chair, my knee hitting the polished marble floor, tears flushing down my cheeks relentlessly. This was hell. Of course, his reassuring words wouldn't numb the pain I felt in my chest. Nothing would.

My gaze averted to Richard. He looked cold, his brow slightly lifted as if he'd seen it coming. He'd accused me of infidelity, and this was evidence. I wouldn't dare cheat on him; never thought of that. I extended my hand, and he shot me a glare, rising to his feet.

"We should be on our way now. Thank you," he said, maintaining a calm demeanor, which was unnerving. He shook the doctor's hand before walking out of the room, not even stealing a glance at my writhing form.

I swallowed hard, unsure if it was my sanity. I picked up the little shame left in me and stood on my feet. I could hear the doctor's voice in the background, but it was useless. I felt hopeless.

After everything Richard had done for me, this was the best way to repay him? I knew damn well how bad he wanted an heir.

"Richard," I called, forcing my way out of the crowded hospital. I tried to keep up with his pace, but he was fast. He walked to the parking lot and slipped into the driver's seat, patiently waiting for me to join him. At least he didn't leave me behind.

His grip tightened around the steering wheel, his jaw clenching as he zoomed out of the hospital. I stared at him, straightening my position. My breathing was shallow, coming in short, haggard gasps.

"I won't have a son," he muttered to himself, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I dried them up quickly. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, fighting hard to steady my breathing.

"I... I'm sorry," my words faltered.

"Sorry?" he asked rhetorically, his tone sharp. He was livid. "Like sorry could fix anything?"

"I sheltered you, made you who you are, and all you did to pay back all the good I've done is to be barren?" he accused bitterly.

My body wracked with sobs, my shoulders shrugging. I could feel the emptiness simmering beneath the fear of the unknown. I couldn't even look at him.

He pulled up at our apartment and walked out of the car, slamming the door. My palms were clammy, and I gripped the hem of my dress, beckoning it to suck away my fear. I pinched myself, praying, begging this bitter reality to be turned into a dream.