Gone Quiet, Gone Love novel Chapter 13

The diary stopped there for a period.

Several pages were blank before Sabrina's next entry was dated the day of the miscarriage. The handwriting was chaotic, with some parts blurred by water stains.

"The baby's gone. He said he wouldn't have locked me up if I hadn't pushed Della. He told me that Della has a blood-clotting disorder and that the push almost killed her. He said he could make up for it.

"Nester, my love and life are worth nothing to you."

The final line on the page was pressed so hard it nearly tore through the paper, trembling with despair.

"I think… I really can't hold on anymore."

That was where the diary abruptly ended. The rest of the notebook was blank.

When Nester flipped to the very last page, a crumpled piece of paper slipped out. He picked it up and unfolded it to reveal an ultrasound report, dated exactly the day of the miscarriage.

There was a small, blurry shape in the photo. Below, it read, "Intrauterine pregnancy of approximately 12 weeks."

On the back of it were dried tear stains and a line of small, faint handwriting as if it was written with Sabrina's last strength.

"Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm so sorry for bringing you into a world where your dad doesn't love you."

Nester stared at those words, his eyes widening as his breathing gradually stifled. It felt as if an invisible hand had clamped around his heart and twisted hard, forcing him to bend over in pain and gasp for air.

What he felt wasn't guilt—it was a delayed, heart-wrenching heartbreak with pain so sharp that his vision darkened, and his ears rang.

He recalled the day in the hospital when Sabrina had lain pale on the hospital bed and looked at him with hollow eyes.

He had said, "After you're discharged, we can try for another baby."

She had said, "Nester, do you think there's any compensation that can make up for a lost life?"

He hadn't understood then, but now that he did, it was too late.

He sank to the floor and leaned against the cold bookshelf, clutching the ultrasound report and diary with such force that his knuckles paled.

He opened his mouth to call Sabrina's name, but no sound came out. Only sudden, uncontrollable tears fell in large drops and landed on the blurred handwriting, spreading into smudges.

Just then, his phone rang with a call from Della.

He stared at the name flashing on the screen and felt an intense annoyance for the first time. The face and name of a woman he had loved for years now seemed so repulsive and detestable.

When he declined the call, Della called again, but he did the same thing. And when she persisted, he simply shut the phone off.

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