The surgery lasted only seven minutes, but to Isabella Swan, it felt like an eternity. The cold instruments whirled inside her, tearing away the innocent life from its warm sanctuary. The icy touch pierced her body, splitting her apart, and the pain threatened to suffocate her.
The machine seemed to revel in extracting the embryo, its noise increasing in intensity, echoing in her head like a relentless drum. Sweat beads formed on her forehead, tracing her face and soaking into her hair, dampening the operating table beneath her.
Yet, all this physical torment was nothing compared to the pain in her heart, the agony Edward Cullen inflicted upon her. His expression of disgust was etched in her mind, a blade and lava that destroyed her completely.
From the moment she could remember, she had loved him, but in his eyes and heart, there was no place for her. Even though they were married, their union was steeped in bitter resentment.
A sharp tightening in her abdomen signaled the machines departure from her body, leaving her hollow, a mere shell without a soul, helplessly closing her eyes.
Her heart-wrenching cries filled the operating room, unceasing, yet the people outside were indifferent, even deriving a cruel satisfaction from her suffering.
Finally, her screams subsided, and the doctor emerged, his demeanor a stark contrast to the coldness he had shown inside the operating room, now fawning as he approached Edward Cullen.
"Is everything taken care of?" Edward asked with a sidelong glance, his voice devoid of warmth.
"Mr. Cullen, rest assured that everything has been resolved," the doctor replied with a sycophantic smile, as if he had accomplished something remarkable.
The door to the operating room opened and closed again, revealing Isabella half-lying on the operating table, her face pale and streaked with tears, her lower lip bitten so hard it seemed to bleed. Her once spirited eyes were now tightly shut, tears still flowing incessantly.
Yet, Edward showed no sign of compassion, instead, a satisfied smirk played on his lips as he turned and left without a backward glance.
Isabella was left in a regular hospital room, with only a cup of lukewarm sugar water by her bedside, abandoned and uncared for.
The room was filled with chattering women and children, their noise unceasing, yet Isabella could not muster a sound.
The scene from the surgery was still vivid in her mind, the pain unrelenting, intensifying.
She placed her hand on her abdomen, seeking solace, but found no warmth in her cold hands.
A nurse suddenly appeared before her, impatiently slapping her and saying, "Hey, youve been lying there for an hour and still cant recover! We have emergency patients, and there are no other beds. If youre done resting, then get out of here!"
The implication was clear. Isabella struggled to get up, slowly putting on her shoes and shuffling out.
The pain in her abdomen was unbearable, like needles stabbing, slowing her steps, but she had no choice.
Her head was dizzy and pounding, and all she wanted was to go home and rest. Yet, she was dressed in casual clothes and without a penny...
The sky was gloomy, and a light rain fell incessantly, each drop hitting the ground and her heart.
The puncture on the back of her hand was still seeping blood, the surrounding area bruised and purple, but Isabella had no mind to care, slowly making her way into the rain...