Temptation | COMPLETED

Chapter 23

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A/N

This chapter is one of the shortest in the entire book. I thought long and hard about how I wanted to write this chapter because it is a very heartbreaking one.

WARNING:
This chapter is very emotional, if that might bother you in any way, please do not read it. I wanted to post a trigger warning but I cannot give you the details because it will spoil the chapter.

Read at your own risk.
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Have you ever seen a movie that shows someone waking up in the hospital after a terrible accident?

You must have.

That exact scene is in a ton of movies. It's an absolute cliche.

You know what I'm talking about.

In and out of consciousness, hearing snippets of conversations going on around them.

Eyes slowly fluttering open.

A few minutes of blissful ignorance before remembering what happened.

Hell, maybe they have amnesia and can't recall a damn thing.

Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but the movies got it wrong.

The moment my eyes flew open in this hospital room, I remembered everything. My hand flew up to cover my eyes as the fluorescent lights made my splitting headache even more unbearable. I saw my mom slumped in a chair next to my bed, peacefully sleeping.

That was two hours ago.

For two hours, I've been laying here silently crying. Because the pain that radiates throughout my entire body is completely overpowered by the feeling of emptiness.

I can't feel her.

It doesn't matter how still I lay with my hands at my sides, unmoving.

I can't feel her.

For the last two hours, I have been silently begging her to move.

But there's nothing.

I'm too afraid to look down, terrified of what I might not see. I don't dare move my arms, because then I'll be too tempted to touch my belly.

"Pl...Please move." I beg quietly through my sobs.

Tears pour from my eyes like a running faucet. I clamp my mouth shut to stop the gut wrenching scream that wants to break free.

I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

But there's nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She's not there.

My hands fly to my belly before I can stop them. There's still a bump, but it's much smaller than before.

Much smaller.

Donna said that Aurora is the size of a papaya now. Which is why when I look down at my shrunken belly, my first thought was

You can't fit a papaya in there.

And then I can't hold it in anymore. I take in a deep shuddering breath and I let out the loudest cry I've ever heard. I wrap my arms around my stomach and sit up, leaning all the way forward. Completely cocooning my belly.

But it's too late to protect her, because she's already gone.

"Courtney!" Mom jumps up from her chair and comes over to me.