My Composure After Divorce Became His Greatest Torment Chapter 07
I went to the clinic alone.
The doctor looked at me, her expression softening. “Ms. Ward, you look exhausted. Would you like me to connect you with our counseling services?”
“No, thank you.”
She didn’t press, just lowered her eyes to my first-trimester prenatal report. Her brow slowly furrowed.
“Are you absolutely certain you want to terminate this pregnancy?”
My heart sank. “Is there a problem with the results?”
She sighed and pointed to one of the indicators on the page.
“Your ovarian reserve—your AMH level—is quite low. After this procedure, it may become very difficult for you to conceive naturally again.”
A low buzz filled my ears.
I clutched the report, the paper crinkling in my hand as the words blurred before my eyes.
This might be my only child.
Almost instinctively, I took out my phone and opened Nathan’s contact. My finger hovered over the call button. Then I saw his face in my mind—the cold look in his eyes at the Newport gala as he silently ordered me to smile.
For Caroline. For the Prescott family’s reputation. He had sacrificed my dignity without a second thought.
And now I was supposed to hand him the authority to decide what I did with my own body?
I turned off the screen, looked up at the doctor, and said, “I’m sure.”