Aliyah

The discharge papers in my hand felt heavier than they should have, like the weight of my broken dreams was folded between them.

Every step out of that hospital hurt, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. My legs trembled beneath me, and every jolt of pain reminded me of the baby I had lost… the miracle I had hoped would change everything. Instead, it had all been stolen.

By the time I stepped into the sunlit street, I felt like a ghost wandering through a world that had already forgotten me.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out with shaky hands, and I frowned when I saw that it was a message from Liam: "Where are you? Come home now and sign them. Don’t make me wait."

Just like that, my chest tightened. No, are you okay? No, I’m sorry, no mention of the child we lost. Just another command. Another reminder that in his eyes, I was nothing.

The taxi ride home was silent. I clutched the discharge papers to my chest like they were the last piece of me. My eyes blurred with unshed tears, and the streets outside the window looked unfamiliar, like I no longer belonged anywhere.

When the car pulled up, I saw them immediately.

Liam, standing on the front gate like a king waiting to banish his servant.

Sarah, with that smug expression barely hidden beneath fake concern.

And Catherine arms folded, already judging, hating.

“What took you so long?” Liam snapped as I stepped out, his cold eyes narrowing. “I have places to be.”

“I just lost our baby,” I whispered, barely able to speak through the lump in my throat. “Can’t you show me even a little kindness?”

“There was no baby,” he said flatly. “Stop living in your delusions.”

I froze. His words were ice, sharper than any blade. I reached for the papers, just wanting this nightmare to end. But he pulled them back.

“Not yet,” he said. “First, return everything that belongs to the Hemsworth family.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Yes, your clothes. Your shoes. Your jewelry. Every single thing the Hemsworth family ever gave you. You came to my grandmother with nothing, and you will leave with nothing.”

“Yes, leave with nothing,” Catherine echoed, her voice dripping venom.

A lump formed in my throat. “Liam, I’m bleeding. I’m weak. I just...”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Strip. Now!"

Wait, Is he serious right now? He wants me to remove my clothes and go naked here?

My knees buckled. “Please. Not here. People...”

“You have five minutes,” he interrupted. “Or I will have security take everything off you.”

I looked around. Cars were driving by. Neighbors were outside. People were already starting to watch.

But I knew Liam. He won't hesitate to call the security to strip me naked.

I started with the dress, the same one I wore this morning, thinking I would surprise my husband with the happiest news of our lives. Now, it crumpled to the ground in a heap of silk, just like my hope.

The onlookers began to whisper as they stared at me in horror, some even raised their phones for photos.

I was standing there in my bra and underwear, blood soaking the hospital pad, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“The jewelry, too,” Catherine said, glaring at me with disgust.

My fingers trembled as I removed it. I felt like I was peeling off parts of my soul. He also collected my phone and shoes.

“Sign the papers,” Liam barked.

I bent over the hood of his car. The pen felt like a knife in my hand. I signed with shaking fingers, each stroke of ink a silent scream from my broken heart.

“There,” I said, barely able to speak. “It’s done.”

Liam grabbed the papers, looked at me with cold satisfaction, and turned away. “Good. Now get out of my sight.”

I was left there, humiliated. Bleeding. Broken.

Gush, the humiliation was so unbearable. I wish the ground could open and swallow me.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hide. The crowd was growing. The whispers get louder. The stares become sharper.

Just then, out of nowhere, a warm jacket was draped around my shoulders.

“Easy,” a voice said, soft but strong. “You are safe now.”

I turned, and standing there was a man I had never seen before. He had warm eyes, the kind that didn’t just look at you, they saw you. His suit was expensive, his touch careful.

“I’m Wilson,” he said gently. “You don’t have to say anything right now.”

His kindness felt foreign, too real to be true. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Let me help you.”

He guided me to his sleek black car, opening the door for me like I was someone who still deserved dignity, without caring if I would stain his car with blood.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror, pale, bruised, bloodied, but in his presence, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

“Where would you like me to take you?” he asked as he started the engine.

I stared ahead. “I don’t know,” I whispered.

“Then let’s figure it out together,” he said. “One step at a time.” He said with a smile.

But then, I could only nod my head as I was beginning to feel dizzy.